Finding a Writing Community
By Sarah Josephine Pennington, written April 2024
I’d never given much thought to finding a community of writers when I was younger. In middle and high school, I always had friends who wrote. We’d share work back and forth, emailing or instant messaging poems and stories while conversation flowed over MSN Messenger, or we’d pass handwritten work folded into tight rectangles during class. When I left home for college, I lucked into a vibrant university writing community, falling into easy camaraderie with students in the workshops I took, sharing work freely at open mics and in the campus literary magazine. Everywhere I looked, other folks were just as in love with words as I was, and writing as a community was a given.
After I left those workshops, though, that sense of community was slowly lost. All those beautiful writers still wrote or wanted to write. Some of those friends went on to publish (and what wonderful things they published!), while others wrote for their own enjoyment. When I’d see members of those former writing communities, we’d talk about projects we were dreaming up, but somewhere along the way that life of words became harder and harder for me to maintain. Once my course work was done, I worked two jobs while still plugging away at graduate school and in the few hours I had left, I couldn’t make myself pick up my pen to create. Instead of enjoying the creative ideas I’d once turned into poems, I felt plagued by them during those times when my hours were so confined, and eventually writing became more of an idle thought, something I wanted to do but something that I always put on the back burner.
Eventually, the pace of my life slowed, and I was able to start writing again. I recommitted to writing, spending hours in my favorite coffee shop polishing old work and crafting new worlds. My writing expanded, and I moved from only writing poetry to moonlighting as someone who wrote fiction and memoir. I felt a pull and tug in my soul between genres and tried my best to spend time with them all, watching my poems grow and swell, sometimes into prose forms and sometimes blazing paths into new shapes. I conjured characters, giving them names, and watching their paths across the page, holding my breath to see what they do next.
As much as I loved being back in the world of writing, though, something felt off. Writing needs community. It’s a common enough refrain, repeated in every workshop, but without the structure of a degree program, I felt adrift.
How do you find a writing community outside of academia?
Louisville is blessed with a thriving public library system, and one branch hosts a rotating cast of artists-in-residence. About the time I was getting my writing feet wet again, the library was offering a free series of workshops from a local author. I convinced a friend to accompany me, and we set off, not realizing those meetings would be the start of a new community. Inspired and armed with generous resources, I began sending out work for the first time in nearly a decade. I soon had my first acceptance, an enthusiastic response from a journal I’d long loved. In true writing fashion, that first acceptance was followed by innumerable rejections, all of which made the publications I managed even more sweet. Even with that success, I was still left with a desire to find more community—I wanted folks just as committed to writing with whom I could share my wins and losses, and bond over theirs.
While there are some open writing groups in my city, either the topics felt off or their meeting times didn’t work. I was also afraid. Even though I was sending some work out, I was petrified of showing my work to anyone. I felt rusty and dusty, and while I thought I was doing good work, I wasn’t yet ready to share it in person. Getting a rejection sent to my email felt safer than listening to supportive comments in person. I just wasn’t ready.
Unable to find a purely generative space, I met with a nonprofit in my neighborhood that runs a local used bookstore and pitched the idea of a monthly generative meeting that would be open to writers of all levels and genres. I’d been volunteering off and on since they opened, and I was thrilled when they agreed to help with my group. Together we came up with a rough structure—a queer affirming space, open to all, and catered to those in our neighborhood. I would host the group, creating monthly prompts and providing time for socializing so that the members could meet other local writers without the pressure of sharing work with strangers. The nonprofit would share meetings on their social media accounts, and their volunteer manager kindly agreed to make fliers. The first Writer’s Gathering drew more than a dozen attendees, all hungry for community. A year later, the group is still strong with a core group of dedicated community members. In fact, the group has solidified enough that we’re expanding to have a separate workshopping circle in the coming months for folks interested in sharing work.
Since that first meeting, I’ve also been lucky to find community with an assortment of other folks, including people I’ve met through in-person and online workshops, some of whom have served as generous readers. Earlier this year, I signed up for The Stafford Challenge, a year-long commitment to write a poem a day, named after the prolific writer William Stafford, who maintained a daily practice of writing and journaling. While I’ve failed at writing a daily poem, having other writers to share work with has kept me writing more than I otherwise would have—and my randomly assigned small group includes some of the most enthusiastic writers I’ve ever had the pleasure to meet. Our biweekly zoom sessions keep me accountable, ensuring I have dedicated time to write and pushes me to share. I’ve also found community in online workshops and social media groups. While my writing life looks different than it did in college, the communities are no less rich, providing wonderful support, encouragement, and camaraderie.
Tips on finding writing communities:
Check with your local library. Many libraries host dedicated times for writers to gather, and if yours does not, staff may be open to starting one.
Go to pen mic nights. Many coffee shops and other small businesses host occasional or regular nights to share work, and these are wonderful ways to find other writers! Even if you’re nervous about sharing, showing up and meeting others costs nothing. You might luck into someone who has a group open for membership or find someone you can write with.
Seek out local, open book clubs. Many libraries, bookstores, and community organizations host book clubs with open (anyone can join) memberships. Any place literature is loved is a potential space to connect to other writers.
Attend online workshops. Many small presses like Yellow Arrow Publishing host online programming, like workshops and virtual retreats, and these can be great places to meet other writers with similar interests.
Join The Stafford Challenge in January. Having a commitment to write can be so helpful. Programming for 2024 has included social media groups, voluntary small writing and workshop groups, and monthly presentations by prominent poets.
Start your own community! If you have a large circle that includes a lot of writers, it’s possible to find other people with your shared passions. If you don’t know enough folks personally to form a consistent group, reach out to places in your community where people gather and with good social media presences. Many coffee shops, bookstores, libraries, and community groups allow the community to schedule events, and some will even do the advertising for you.
Remember:
Be brave and vulnerable. It’s hard to face possible rejection, but there’s everything to gain by staying in contact with folks you’ve met in other writing spaces. Ask friendly folks you meet for their social media handles or email addresses. The only way to find a writing community is by being brave enough to seek one out. Not everyone you meet will be part of your writing journey, but you won’t know until you take those first steps.
Don’t take things personally if your favorite writing community goes quiet. Everyone has busy lives, and sometimes folks with the best of intentions fail to stay in contact. It’s natural for communication to wax and wane. Having multiple outlets for writing in the community can be helpful.
Sarah Josephine Pennington (she/her) is a queer writer and artist from Louisville, Kentucky, by way of Appalachia. Her writing has recently appeared or is forthcoming in Still: The Journal, The Anthology of Appalachian Writers, and riddlebird, and has been supported through a residency from the Kentucky Foundation for Women. Her art can be found on Instagram @SarahJosephineCreates.
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