After a recent book signing, a young writer stayed behind to pick my brain. (Yes, there's more than sawdust in there). Talking with her was delightful because her enthusiasm was catchy. She reminded me of my early days of writing--when I couldn't wait to get the words on paper and see the world I created come alive. She was the same. She had all these words and ideas rushing out and her love of the paranormal ran along the lines of my own stories. We shared thoughts and ideas and laughed alot. Before she left, we exchanged E-Mails, though I think we both realized that our huge age difference insured that we had nothing in common (outside of writing) and probably would chalk this up as a nice interlude between writers.
Imagine my surprise when a couple of weeks later, she E-mailed me, thanking me for taking the time to sit and discuss her writing with her. An unlikely friendship has developed since then. A mutual admiration society, between the old and the young. She wants to write more than anything in the world and I remember that feeling as if it was yesterday--because it was. I still have the passion for putting words onto the paper and creating worlds that defy imagination, even though it's been fifty years since my first awful attempt at writing a short story. She's young and her writing is young, but she has the guts, determination and courage to keep at it. That courage and passion binds her and I in ways that transcends the human concept of time.
We are part of the sisterhood of writers who love the magical and the mystical. If there is a werewolf, a witch, a vampire, or a modern day psychic, we're there writing it. And of course, if the characters defy all the odds and fall in love with each other along the way, we are doubly blessed by the writing Gods.
Yes, I'm old compared to her, but her E-mails comfort me. They assure me that no matter how many generations pass, young people will still be drawn to writing. And in this day and age of instant gratification, that assurance pleasses me to no end.
