I don’t know how I got so lucky/blessed whatever you want to call it to have such a great community of writers around me. Most of them are in the ether of the Internet but some of them I know in the flesh but most of all it gets to me that community doesn’t mean what it used to mean. It’s no longer based in geography.
Which means I’m sitting in a forest in northern California which thankfully is not in flames yet this year while my girlfriends in Portland or the Bay Area or Alaska or the Midwest or the back East as we say are at their kitchen tables and we are there for each other. What a great world is that!
People say crap about the Internet all the time. How it’s making us more isolated and more anti-social. I don’t buy any of this. The community within makes me feel more connected, less isolated, and more encouraged.
I mean don’t get me wrong; as a writer I scroll through feeds and think WTH with this article?! I hope no one got paid for how shitty this is on a regular basis. The Internet can certainly be a discouraging place for writers of substance. Especially when you go to submit and essay to somewhere and they say ‘writers should be under the age of 35.” Ouch. And fuck you, you 20s something turd.
But over all since I live in a rural community where racism runs like sap down a tree, where societal expectations of women are pre-first wave feminist, it helps to have sisters of substance a click a way. So I don’t want to hear anymore about how social media is killing the planet. It’s not. It’s saving many of us who might be dead without the connection of the like minded and the few.
Community and family is what we make of it. I made mine here.