Finding Tribe

By Linda Caradine

Everyone knows writing is a solitary pursuit, right? Well, yes and no. While the actual heads-down churning out of words must be done alone, being a writer does indeed take a village. Many aspiring writers (and some experienced ones) try to bypass this truism and wind up feeling frustrated, lost, or discouraged. Without feedback, how do you know if your idea is a good one or whether you’ve captured exactly what you meant to say? If you intend to write for others, you can’t operate in a vacuum. Trying to do so misses the point and will leave your work feeling flat and lifeless.

I’ve found classes and writing groups to be great ways to dip your toes into the pond. I once took a class from a well-known screenwriter who paired up participants for an exercise. I happened to be partnered with a like-minded woman who would become one of my very best friends and writing partners (Cheryl, are you out there?) She and I went on to take several trips together, both near and far. As a result of those trips, I wrote a series of essays that I’m compiling into a book, while she cooked up an online tourism website that provides essential information for travelers. Neither of these projects would have been possible if we had just stayed in our rooms writing.

When it comes to one-on-one writerly relationships, a critique group is probably the best and most productive way to connect with other writers. Often held in someone’s home or a cozy neighborhood coffee shop, they are excellent venues for reading your work and receiving valuable input. As an added bonus, you also have the opportunity to make lifelong friends — friends who “get you” on a very basic level. And that’s something that doesn’t happen every day.

I have personally taken part in many types of author get-togethers over the years, and I can honestly say that most, if not all, of them have helped improve my writing. There’s something inherently beneficial about immersing yourself in the writing community. These experiences broaden your horizons and introduce you to new expressions and deeper layers in your writing. Sometimes, when you’re feeling like a lonely artist, they can renew your soul.

Depending on whether you live in a bustling city or in a small village, the opportunities are out there. For several years, while my then-husband worked as a journalist, we did quite a bit of relocating from one place to another. Early in his career, I found myself plopped down in the middle of a rural Iowa farming community. I was sure I would never find a writing group to join or people with whom I could relate. So, I tentatively placed a notice in the little 4-sheet newspaper next to the ads for free barn cats and used tractors for sale. My phone started ringing off the hook from writers of all stripes who were hiding in plain sight.

From all the callers, I pulled together a clique of six individuals who I thought would be compatible in our writing goals and asked them to join me in my small living room for an informal inaugural meeting. I don’t know why, but six always felt like the perfect number for a writing group. Our personalities were diverse enough to be interesting and yet similar enough to work productively for our two-hour stints. There would be enough time for everyone to read and receive feedback without going on too long.

For that first meeting, we socialized for an hour over cups of steaming coffee before getting down to business. Nerves and formalities out of the way, we wrote up a few rules and decided on a format for our meetings. We were all excited to bring structure to our writing lives after dithering along on our own for months or years. The promise of new beginnings was in the air.           

The group did go on to collectively see many published pieces. That made it a huge success for all of us, and the group continued on long after I had packed and moved away. I repeated my search for a writing group in every new city, and I eventually always found what I was looking for. Once in Portland, I found my tribe through the Poets and Writers database.

I am now finalizing the draft of a psychological thriller. My latest group meets twice a month at one member’s house, and I have to say, it’s been absolutely essential to my writing process. Without their feedback, my thriller might have fallen flat. Now, I’m ready to submit my manuscript to agents.

You are a writer. Don’t hem and haw about calling yourself one. As such, you’ve got to do what is necessary and what best furthers your goals. Don’t be shy. Don’t be lazy. Don’t be antisocial. You’re not really so busy writing that you have no time to spend with other writers. And, if you are, you’re doing yourself a disservice.

Just as Socrates famously said that the unexamined life is not worth living, I would posit that unexamined writing is not worth reading. The very act of writing assumes that you want to have something of significance to say. We write because we want to be heard, and no one wants to be known as the author of something that is false or inconsequential.

Give yourself the opportunity to shine. Invite people into your process. Share your results. It will add a whole new dimension to your work and will make you some lifelong friends. There are so many rewarding ways to find your tribe, at least one of which will suit your personality and writing style to a tee, that you will be glad you took the plunge. So, by all means, continue to write in private – but then put your best efforts into the spotlight where they belong.       


Linda Caradine is an award-winning Oregon writer whose fiction and nonfiction have appeared in The RavensPerch, Free State Review, Cobalt Review, Lindenwood Review, and other literary journals. Her memoir, Lying Down with Dogs (Unsolicited Press, 2024), won or placed in multiple national book contests, including recognition from the Independent Authors Network. In addition to her writing, she manages a nonprofit animal rescue organization, an experience that informs much of her work. She has completed a novel of psychological suspense, which was a finalist in the Pacific Northwest Writers Association contest, and is currently at work on its sequel.

William KenowerComment