Writing Wednesday: Finding a Writing Community with the Writers Association of Northern Appalachia
My first professional writing conference ended up giving me just the sense of community--and the inspiration--that I needed at this stage of my writing journey.
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Whew, it has been a wild couple of weeks of writing stuff! For this week, I want to highlight my experience at the Writers Association of Northern Appalachia Conference, which I had the distinct honor of attending and presenting at this past weekend. It was so joyful and affirming to be among so many other talented Northern Appalachian writers, right in the heart of Wheeling, a city that remains near and dear to my heart. I couldn’t have asked for a better first professional writing conference experience.
From the moment I walked into the Scottish Rite Cathedral, I knew that I was among my people. To be sure, it took me a few moments to get my bearings, since I tend to be a bit shy when I’m in a new social setting. However, the more the day went on and the more conversations I had with those who had gathered there–whether my fellow panelists, the conference organizers, and just random people who happened to live near my parents–the more I came to realize that this was exactly the space that I’ve been craving and needing since I first decided to set out on this fiction writing journey in earnest.
And let me tell you: there were some powerful words this weekend. On my panel alone I got to hear some remarkable nonfiction from the likes of Laura Dennis and powerful poetry from W. Scott Hanna, Laura Dennis, and Carrie Hohmann. When I tell you that it was really an honor (and quite humbling!) to be in the midst of such talented writers, I’m not exaggerating. Hearing their extraordinary words and stories, many of them drawn from their own life experiences and those of their families, was a timely reminder of just how powerful words are and how we as writers often dig deep into our psyches and our hearts to bring forth our words, whether in prose or verse, fiction or nonfiction.
Once I finally overcame my shyness, I ended up being rather surprised by just how easy it was to chat up complete strangers. In addition to my parent’s neighbor–and you can imagine my surprise when I learned that there was a fledgling writer not five minutes from where I woke up that morning!--I found many other connections that I hadn’t been expecting. There was the delightful queer couple that I talked to while manning the book table, both of whom were also fans of speculative fiction. There was the lovely trans woman that I spoke with, her presence a powerful reminder of how trans and queer folks have always been a key part of Appalachia, on both the ridges and in the hollers. There were the young folks forging a writing community in the Pennsylvania wilds and so, so many more.
All of which is a long way of saying that this was a space that engendered both a sense of belonging and a sense of being among my people. The fact that this was all taking place in Northern Appalachia, a region that continues to have a strong hold on my heart and my mind, just made the whole thing even more special. This region is such a rich part of broader Appalachia, and it is exciting to see it finally getting the recognition it deserves.
Before I go on, though, I have to be honest about something. I’ve spent most of my adult life running away from my Northern Appalachian identity and upbringing. There are a lot of reasons for this: my general angst and ambivalence regarding whether I am, in fact, an Appalachian person; my angst about being a queer Appalachian person; my anger and frustration with the political direction that Appalachia, particularly West Virginia, has taken in the past couple of decades. I could go on, but you get the general idea. I exist at the intersection of several different complicated identities, and it can sometimes be hard to get them to coexist peacefully in my own mind.
It’s thus appropriate, I think, that I spoke of the unique power that comes from writing queer love stories set in Appalachia. Northern Appalachia, like the broader region, is often seen as antithetical to queer life and love, and I’m doing what I can to push back against that, to show that those hills and hollers have the same capacity to cultivate queer and trans joy and love as anywhere else. Indeed, there’s a remarkable queer strength in Northern Appalachia, and that when those of us from the area cut ourselves off from that, we cut off a key part of ourselves.
This conference reminded me that there is a unique power in place, and one of the things that I appreciated most about this conference was getting a firmer, richer, and deeper understanding of just what Northern Appalachia is and how it connects with and differs from the other regions that comprise Appalachia as a whole. At this point, I need to give a special shout-out to Dr. Christina Fisanick, one of the main architects of both the conference and the recognition of Northern Appalachia as its own subregion with its unique identity and challenges.
Look, I don’t want to say that I was fangirling, but the truth is that…I kind of was. I’ve known of Christina for a while, of course, thanks to some mutual acquaintances from Northern Appalachia, but there’s a difference, though, between knowing someone in a general sense and actually seeing them in person. It certainly helps that she is the spirit of grace and Appalachian warmth, and it certainly helps that we both grew up in Marshall County, West Virginia. She made me feel so warm and welcome, and it’s thanks to her–and her very moving presentation about her students and their use of digital storytelling–that my first writing conference was the pure joy that it was.
This conference was also a valuable reminder, one that I desperately needed, that I’m a writer, damn it, and that I need to start acting like it, that I need to stop acting as if my novel is the product of a hobby that got out of control. Strange though it might seem, it’s taken me a while (far longer than it should, really) to accept that my fiction is worth being taken seriously. I know that I’m not the only indie author out there who has this similar feeling, particularly those of us who took the indie route after failing to make any headway via the traditional route. Going to a writing conference, as it turns out, helps immeasurably in this regard. When it’s one that’s set in your backyard…well, that just makes it all the more special.
Suffice it to say that this was a truly remarkable and exhilarating writing conference. It’s the kind of event that made me fall in love with being a writer and writing all over again. I can’t wait until the next one!
Now comes the part where I point out that you can buy my queer romance debut, Country Road Romance, at a number of fine indie bookshops and major retailers. I’ve included a list of them below, so if you’re so inclined, and if you haven’t bought it yet, please consider doing so.
The Buzzed Word (MD)
Romance-Landia (MD)
Capricho’s Books (MD)
Bethany Beach Books (DE)
Browseabout Books (DE)
Booktenders (WV)
The Inner Geek (WV)
Four Seasons Books (WV)
Plot Twist Books (WV)
Love Stories OKC (OK)
Signed copies are also available on my website.