September is the new January

an invitation to the Silent Scribble - a co-working session for the shy, the introverted, the neurodivergent and other folk who'd rather not have to talk on Zoom

Hello there, and welcome to another letter - a special welcome to the new faces, thank you for joining the fray. Writing is my job - it’s the only way I earn a living these days (I’m virtually unemployable at this point) - so if you’d like to help keep the dream alive, consider becoming a patron (paid subscriber), buy one of my books or buy me a cuppa. If financial support isn’t currently within your means then why not leave a comment, share my work, become a free subscriber? We writers can be fragile creatures - a kind word of encouragement is the stuff of life for us, so never underestimate the value of that. Thanks for being here - you’re so very welcome!

Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash

As I write this, there’s an impending sense of rain; the sky is a moody and indecisive shade of black and blue and there’s a strange, uneasy sort of wind blowing. Every once in a while, it gusts, as if huffing out a sigh of frustration. Will it, or won’t it? The forecast says it will, and quite voluminously, but weather forecasts these days seem to be more a guideline than a firm eventuality. There’s a steady hum of crickets and grasshoppers (the cicadas have gone mostly quiet) and the silence-before-the-storm of cars bringing children to the school around the corner is a pleasant one. When we first viewed this house before buying it, I immediately took a dislike to the busyness of the road. To be fair, by some standards, it’s not that busy - three times a day, perhaps - but when the hum of a distant tractor has been your only mechanical noise for seven years, more than the occasional car passing by is ‘busy’. Still, like blackberries, the return of the crows and the shifting light, the thrice daily up-tick in traffic tells me that September is here.

I love this time of year. Love it. Absolutely my favourite. And no, not because of pumpkin spice lattes or decorating for Halloween (I don’t partake in either of those). For me it’s about good sleeping weather and darker mornings, both of which contribute to a lightness, a relief from the weight of summer with its humidity and too-muchness that tends to peak in August. It’s about needing a cardigan and socks in the morning and being able to work in the garden in the middle of the afternoon. It’s goldfinches on thistles and sparrows in the sunflower patch, wasps on raspberries and an eager eye on the impending apple harvest. September is a month of fresh air and fresh energy, when my creative juices start flowing again and I start scribbling in notebooks with optimism rather than with half-hearted litanies of whinge about how hot it is.

Yeah, I kind of love September.

A while ago, I had an idea. It was borne of the value and companionship I’ve had in online co-working spaces, specifically writing sessions, and the fact that Zoom fatigue is a Thing. I loved those spaces, and they also exhausted me. As a neurodivergent person, Zoom gatherings in general, tire me out. So many squares! So many faces! How to keep track? A barrage of social information all at once! What is my face doing? I could turn off my camera, but perhaps that would be rude? Is it rude? I don’t want to be rude. Then, having to ‘say a word or two’ afterwards, or before? So many wonderful and also tremendously exhausting conversations!

At one point, I belonged to a creative community where we had co-writing sessions almost every day. It was amazing! Truly brilliant. And it burned me out. Hard.

BUT! It was amazing and I was able to show up regularly for my work and write many words in the best of company.

Surely, I thought to myself, there has to be a middle ground. I have a novel to write and I would really love the company and the accountability. I meet with my writing group every Friday and, for most of the summer, that Friday morning session has been the only time I’ve worked on my manuscript. It’s been the difference between no progress and a little bit of progress during a time of year when zero is the usual amount of writing I do.

A little bit is definitely more than zero.

So this is what I’m proposing:

The Silent Scribble - an online co-writing space where we don’t speak. We come in, give a quiet wave, perhaps a ‘hello’ in the chat, then get to work. No eye contact required, no navigating awkward pauses and unintentional interruptions -just the benefit of the company of kindred writerly souls. At the end of the allotted time (an hour works well), we wave goodbye and sign off. Perhaps, once a month, if we felt like it, we’d have a not-so-silent session where we could chat about our work and other writerly things, but that’s a ‘maybe’ and entirely optional.

What do you think?

It’s a special kind of magic that runs through co-working spaces. If you’ve never experienced it before, you might be amazed at what you can get accomplished. I’ve written five books in no more than an hour a day. Imagine that! It’s something to do with the company, the accountability, the way seeing others focus inspires our own. I’m sure there’s some scientific explanation, but I’m going with magic.

One hour, a couple of times a week. Even if you don’t work on your writing project (which can be anything - this isn’t just for writing novels!) at any other time, think of what you might get done in an hour!

To start, I’m going to offer up two different days/times. I need to be mindful of my own capacities and don’t want to over-commit (I’m still learning to trust myself in this regard) so here’s what I’m thinking - I’ll open up a Zoom room on…

Mondays at 1pm EST

https://us06web.zoom.us/j/83377097145?pwd=S0tx0abMp3hzmLjfLXhhQfQZVArn7p.1

Wednesdays at 8am EST

https://us06web.zoom.us/j/82076608531?pwd=z6vl4zB3fejwtot4gb74JlaI5jnApO.1

I’m open to doing an evening/weekend session (EST) but that will be by request so, if you fancy doing it but those times don’t work, let me know.

There’s no charge for these sessions - my wonderful patrons (paid subscribers) are helping to keep all of my work accessible to everyone - but you’re welcome to throw a few coppers into the hat to help towards the cost of the Zoom subscription, if you’re able.

One way or another, I’ll be in that Zoom room working on my manuscript. Even just thinking someone else might show up will get my butt in the chair, though it would be really fabulous if I had other people to work with¹.

Keep me company?

I’m aiming to start September 16th…see you there?

~m. xo

ps. Questions? Comments? Suggestions? Leave a comment or drop me a note.

pps. I’m going to make a separate post/page and pin it to the front of my Substack page with the day/time/link for easy access.

pps. feel free to share this post…the more, the merrier - after all, we don’t have to talk 🤣

1. This is me conquering the ‘but what if no-on shows up’ fear. I’m risking being a Billy No-Mates (as my friend Helen would say) and that’s fine…the world won’t end and I’ll get some words written.