In a common-around-our-house scenario, my husband nodded slightly as I summed up the plans for our stay-close-to-home vacation: visit our son for his birthday, spend a couple of days in Brown County, attend opening day at the State Fair, mosey over to my brother’s downtown Indy apartment. I very casually concluded the vacay itinerary with this: “Then on SATURDAY, my writing partner Linda and I are going to St. Louis to meet up and hang out with three of our other writing partners. We’ll come back on SUNDAY.”
“You’re going WHERE? To do WHAT?” To be sure, I now had my husband’s undivided attention.
“Linda lives in Indy (well, close) and she says it’s not that far… only like four hours to St. Louis.”
His forehead wrinkled in disbelief or shock or concern. Who knew?
“Really, she said it’s only four hours, that’s not that far.”
His eyes still fixed on me. “And you’re coming back SUNDAY?”
“Umm, yeah. We’ll have dinner with them Saturday night, hang out, have breakfast Sunday morning then head back.”
Deep sigh, from head-shaking husband.
I felt the need to explain further, to defend our much anticipated road trip. “You know, since three of our group will be there–they write spec and fantasy, you know, so they’re going to this conference called Realm Makers.” I rushed on, searching for just the right words to adequately convey the greatness of this opportunity. “Linda and I write contemporary–that’s why we’re not attending the conference. BUT we want to go see the ones who are going.We haven’t been together since the 2013 conference in Indy…”
“Oh, fine.” His gaze drifted back to the TV but I detected an ever so slight, continuous shaking of his head.
Of course he didn’t “know”. How could he? He’d never met any of my writing partners. He didn’t have a grasp on how close we’d become. And probably of even greater significance, he’s not a writer. The whole writers-need-other-writers thing that we all firmly, unequivocally believe held no meaning for him.
I hoped Linda’s husband would be there when my husband dropped me off at Linda’s. I thought he might benefit from even a few minutes of “Can you believe this crazy scheme our wives cooked up?” commiserating. Upon our return to Indy, he and Linda’s husband did get a few moments to banter about the craziness-of-our-wives. Before they asked the inevitable, “Was it worth it?”, Linda and I, almost in unison, announced that it was INDEED worth it. Absolutely. Without a doubt. So very worth it.
You’d never have guessed that nearly two years had lapsed since our last group meeting as we meshed like we spent time together every day. And while we had a totally awesome time, we deeply missed Karen, Vanessa, Cynthia and Loraine.
Truthfully, even us Scriblerians don’t fully understand the depth of our connection. How eight women and one guy who have yet to all be together in the same place at the same time have developed such a strong, deep and lasting bond can only be explained as a GOD thing. While our candid critiquing of each other’s work has challenged each of us to become better writers, our relationship goes way beyond the craft of writing and the dreams of publication. We share praises and prayer requests, heartaches and triumphs, dreams and longings unrelated to writing. We may never fully comprehend the ties that bind us together but we accept it, we believe in it and we love it.
I dream of the day we can all be together in the same place at the same time. And how awesome it would be if our spouses could join us to witness first-hand the amazingness of being a Scriblerian.
Until then, my incredible writing partners, carry on!