Far Flung Friends

A few odd years ago I was an actress. I lived in Manhattan and I had a wild group of acting friends with whom I acted ... wildly. When I packed my bags and climbed on the LIRR (no jet planes for me!) and returned to the old homestead, I gave up the dream of footlights and the roar of the crowd. What I hadn't expected was that my friends would give me up, in return. But of course, I'm always learning new things. Once I arrived home, my life was absorbed into the lives of others, for nigh unto 11 years. I catered, I curried, I fetched and toted. My grandmother passed away at 99, my baby brother was accepted into a group home for mentally retarded adult men and moved, and I was left alone with my Mother. My day job, which had initially offered me cerebral stimulation evolved into a static, moribund exercise that gave me no fulfillment or joy whatsoever. It was during a time of aching loneliness that I felt my urge to write resurface. I'd tried my hand at it in the late 70's, that time of Woodiwiss and Rogers and Small. But my creative energies were fed, instead, into performing, and I ceased even reading romance, instead filling my library with drama and theatre books. Once home, having abandoned, and been abandoned, by friends, I returned to my love of books of all other sorts, and romance - which had blossomed and matured and grown into a complex world of genres, was re-discovered. I attended the RWA nationals in 1996 or 97, and again in 2003. In 2001 I'd rejoined the New York City chapter on September 9. Fate stepped in and I never heard from them again. But my enjoyment of the 2003 convention led me back and I rejoined in 2005. In 2006 I was entreated to run for a Board position which, in my naivete, I did, assuming that as an unknown I would wallow in obscurity and be absolved of the responsibility. Not. I was an only-ran and here I sit before you the Secretary of the Chapter. But my involvement fomented an obsessive eagerness with all things RWA. And all things writerly. In June I joined the 6 on-line special interest chapters that appealed to me. This month I joined all the remaining chapters and have discovered what a wonderful world this counfounding internet can be!
From Alaska to Texas to Australia and New Zealand. New Jersey next door, and upstate mere miles away, I have gathered a group of friends that I have never met, but with whom I share the bliss of romance and writing. We kvetch, we cajole, we commisserate and complain. I've been seduced by Betty and her volunteering vigor. I've been swept away by Amber's enthusiasm. I've bowed to Maggie's entreaties and leapt into the fray with Carmen, and Vonna, and templarlady and JJ. Every day I rush to my emails to see all the news. I never fail to find another request to volunteer, and invariably I fold under the gentle pressure and the promise of comradeship and community. I enter contests when the entries are needed. I judge when there are no others. I'm the President of one chapter, an election committee member on another. I work on membership panels, and by-law committees, as a PR rep, and a member liaison. I help with workshops, and loop patrol and I offer up my knowledge whenever I'm asked. Whether public or private and with generosity and vigor, these ladies and gents have welcomed me into the cyber bosom of the community of romance authors. Not un-published, but pre-published. Not just published, but multiply published. Award winners, and still-striving, paranormal world builders and Christian storytellers. Easy to talk to, and quick to rile. Laughers and talkers. Defensive and defenders. Loving and caring and rowdy and stern. I have come to know a thousand people, and every day I await the emails that will introduce me to a thousand more. I read their work and they read mine. We laud one another and extol the virtues of love. We joke about Depp and we lust after Jackman. We are smart and funny and knowledgeable. We share, we donate, we support. But above all, we write.
These are my cyber friends. I don't know their voices, their sizes, their ages. I've never seen their homes, or shared coffee or margaritas. I do know their books. I've seen pictures on sites and I have heard tales of their lives. But despite the miles between us, the continents and countries, they are my friends. And they have been more true than the old friends that shared meals, and days, and gifts and space.