Author Friendships

Back in November 2020, I received some unexpected and unwanted news about a project. While writers are accustomed to the ups and downs of our chosen profession, some knocks hit harder than others. This one knocked me flat. My first calls were to authors Lisa Barr and Camille Di Maio. After listening to their sage advice and collective support, I hung up, not wholly recovered, but feeling understood and heard. And while I remained unsettled, I knew I had something of real value, the gift of author friendship.  

These relationships didn’t come easily. They took years. When What We Leave Behind released in 2012, I was a self-published author living in Miami, FL, far away from New York City’s literary hub. I was an island, an anomaly, wondering at times, where I fit. When the Miami Book Fair came to town, I wasn’t asked to speak on a panel, yet I was asked to introduce the authors on the panels. Lauren Oliver. Emma Straub. Paul Levine. James Grippando. After one such panel, a charming woman in the audience, the author of Moral Infidelity, approached me. She had struck up a conversation with my husband (I’m sure he accosted her), but we hit it off instantly. She asked me why I wasn’t on the panel. I didn’t have an answer. She encouraged me to ask for more. She still does. 

That was 2015. Rebecca Warner took a chance on me, on friendship, one that typifies the fragile, elusive world of a writer, the need to disappear at times and then get close. Real close. Close enough to share vulnerabilities and battle scars, to be as equally supportive when big things happen. I am fortunate to have wonderful friends in my life, but the friendship of my fellow authors is a rare breed.

No one understands the writer’s life other than a fellow writer. No one understands the introvert putting her heart and soul into the world for others to poke at. The endless hours alone. The rejection. Creating an imaginary world where characters are friends, your dreams theirs. Or the joy that comes from a book that soars. There’s something about our world that goes beyond the day to day. It’s a thread, connecting us in such a way that only those hunched over a computer can relate. With Rebecca, and those who would follow, I no longer felt alone.

Just as each book slowly takes root and grows into something meaningful, so, too, did my connection to the author community. Little by little, I was invited into Facebook groups, connected to authors by Fairy Godmothers Andrea Katz, Suzy Leopold, Ann-Marie Nieves, Zibby Owens,  Jamie Rosenblit  Lauren Margolin and introduced to some of my idols at in-person book events. Sure, there was a hierarchy. Doors opened and closed, but for the most part, the author community was warm and welcoming. We are soldiers, sisters on the frontlines, and we’d been an opportunity to connect in the most beautiful, cerebral way. For many of us, it was an I get you moment. 

When Barbara Bos suggested a piece on author friendship, I considered what drove these connections, what was at the very root. And just as I write authentically and from the heart, the friendships I’ve cultivated in this industry were based on that same foundation. Every introduction was made with graciousness. Never over-stepping. Always thinking: how can I help? Because that’s really the very core of all this.

Most will agree, supporting our fellow authors is easier to do than hawking our own books. We’re the last people looking for attention. We’re the ones who want to dive inside our stories and hide. We foster these friendships because we understand the sheer madness of it all. We know what it’s like to get that deal, that awful review, to go through endless amounts of edits, or the satisfying thrill in hitting a list. We do it because there’s really no other way. We’re family, and when one of us hurts, the rest of us feel the sting, and when one of us soars, we can’t help but to cheer along the sidelines.

I’ve been fortunate enough to have met online and in-person some amazingly talented women who share this belief. No matter how busy we are, we stop what we’re doing to read each other’s books, to blurb and review, we share the stage together at author events because it’s about us not me. We travel across cities and state lines to attend each other’s book events, ensuring there’s always a friendly face in the audience.

We’ve lifted each other up, we’ve celebrated each other’s milestones, and we know all about our partners and parents, kids and families. And our pets! We’ve shared wine and memories and mutual respect. And when Publisher’s Marketplace announces the news we’ve been waiting to hear, we’re the first to share our congratulations. As authors, we’ve shared every high and low together, been as fragile as a person can be, providing unconditional support. Our journeys have connected us. These women, always supporting, always rooting us on, always understanding what it means to be a writer. Always showing up.  

Two days after I’d called Camille and Lisa with my news, there was a knock at my door. Oh how I love the sight of deliveries outside my window. That day there were two. Was it the treats I bought for my dog? The new Lauren Willig novel? It was neither. Instead, a case of Milk Duds and a case of Goobers. My author girls knew my favorite writing snacks. They knew I’d need fuel for the major edit I was about to begin. I assumed they were in cahoots. They were not. They each acted independently and were just as surprised to hear about the coincidence. When I texted them with my heartfelt thanks, the layers were deep. The understanding. The kindness. For knowing what we need from each other. Camille laughed. “Some friends you have!” she said. “A Goober and a Dud.”

Well, I’ll take my goober and my dud. If you’re lucky enough to find yours in this crazy, sweet business, you won’t need anything more.

Tags: featured, women writers

Category: Contemporary Women Writers, How To and Tips