Yesterday I met Faith, a lovely fellow blogger who has been my pen pal for years. I have a drawer full of snail mail letters, and we’ve known each other for a long time, but even though we live in the same state–we’d never met before!
We went to a Starbucks at the grocery store and talked about things that it usually takes a writer to understand. I think the person at the table next to us was giving us strange looks. Editing was a dominant topic, then bad books and Rick Riordan, and I think we talked about characters cussing and hair dying…it was epic and totally random.
Every time I meet a friend who’s also a writer, I notice how different we are. We see the world in a deeper way; those doors to the unknown? We’ll go to all lengths to open them.
I appreciate my other friends who don’t write as well, but…it’s just different. They wouldn’t care about a lot of this stuff. They’d probably get bored hearing me go into a rant about my novel. Which is okay–when I say rant, I mean it. I can go on and on, then feel bad because I’m doing all the talking and the listener is too nice to admit I’m boring them.
If you can sit down, listen, and actually be interested–then you’re just awesome.
It’s a blessing to be able to meet all these people. I definitely have some of the greatest friends!