Reveling in Writers

Attending a writers conference is like dropping yourself into a hive of bees. Everyone is buzzing around frantically looking for someone to pay attention to them, to find someone to connect with, to find an agent or editor to give a thumbs-up to their dream. But it is also a swarm of bees working together, working to create something, to fashion a hive together.
I love hanging out with writers. They’re like my real family, the people who get it, who get me. Most of them are crazy, of course. Some certifiably nuts—or are we all nuts for embarking on this stressful, yet sometimes joyous journey?
As I walk the halls, people buzzing around me, I feel an incredible energy. Creativity oozes from the passers-by and I feel inspired just moving along with the crowd. I relish in the short conversations with these folks who have similar goals. They are all ages, ethnicities, and genders (although always more women—is it because we are more social creatures?) Our lives are all different, yet the same.
I suck up the energy and hope to store it like a bees store honey for later when I’m alone writing and feeling stuck, or thinking all my writing is crap. So later at home, when my teenager is crabby and wondering why mom is off to another writing event, I’ll recall those memories of energy and revel in the fact that I am a writer and I’m not alone in this crazy, frustrating, miraculous pursuit.