All my life I’ve been attracted to weird things. And all my life I’ve been very much aware that other people think I’m weird for being attracted to those weird things. Sometimes it’s that I can’t help but be drawn in by all the different facets of human darkness. Sometimes it’s that I get interested in a subject that seems complicated and obscure, and extremely boring, to others. But whatever my latest passion is at the moment I can be sure that it’s not something that a whole lot of other people understand.
National Novel Writing Month has something for writers of every personality type. Tight deadlines for those who work well under pressure, well-deserved admiration for those who thrive by having their talents recognized, and the freedom to work with or without an outline, according to individual creative taste.
Last week I listened to the Saturday morning Dharma Talk from the SF Zen Center by Rosalie Curtis. The subject of her talk was sangha, which in its simplest form means “community.” Curtis mentioned that her favorite definition of sangha is “a community of people who come together to do something good,” which I really liked. It resonated with me because the moment I started thinking about community, I started thinking about writers. Specifically, I thought about how I meet with my own little sangha of writers on Thursday nights, but also how I’ve recently joined larger sanghas of writers online in the past few months.