Last week I heard Erica Jong on the Diane Rehm show. She’s written a book about writing called Seducing the Demon: Writing for My Life. During the interview she talked about writing being something she has to do, otherwise she would go insane. It’s a calling, she said. I do know that I get a little nuts when I don’t have a chance to get my thoughts down, and I’m excited to have explicit permission to do so this week (and someone to watch the Divine Miss M while I do).

The workshop began last night with dinner and introductions. Many people here have been published extensively—heck, the senior editor of Christian Mainline Liberal Magazine is here. (Poor woman, she’s here as a participant but has already been asked repeatedly by a few frustrated writers to explain the intricacies of the magazine’s editorial policies.) Meanwhile, I am the youngest one here, and an unknown, and it’s great; there’s no way for me to compete so why try? Just have fun in my liminal space between writing and mommying.

At dinner I ended up sitting next to my small-group leader (Young Episcopal Memoirist) and a member of my group. I recognized the group member’s name from the thick packet of essays we’d received in the mail, but I couldn’t place his work. I had just introduced myself when he said, “Were you the one who wrote about your father dying right before your daughter was born? Wow, that was powerful!” He then proceeded to quote sections of the piece back to me. Young Episcopal Memoirist chimed in with a couple bits that struck her. I was shocked. I really did mean it when I told someone recently that my writing aspiration is simply to be read—however and whenever that happens, whether I’m ever published or not. I received confirmation of that within five minutes of this thing so I think I can pretty much relax about any sort of “goals.” It’s like preaching—every time I preach I am so touched by the gift of listening that others give to me. It’s the greatest act of hospitality, but very humbling—there are so many things for people to give their attention to, one wants to do everyone one can to be worthy of that attention.

Actually, my piece will be the first to be critiqued this afternoon. I’m very intrigued to know why she chose mine first, but it’ll be nice to get it out of the way. And I’m curious to see whether people will be more tentative because it’s the first one. I hope not. I’m hoping for kind honesty.

I’ll let you know.