Lonely Writers Club

'I never considered myself a writer.' This is how Austin introduced their latest Public Record on Metalabel: Lonely Writers Club. Of course that resonated. I never considered myself a writer neither. And even though for Austin, everything apparently changed from 2019 onwards, I still don't consider one myself. That being said written, I did notice (and experience) the power of writing myself. And I did try a few times in the past to grow that side of me.

I got goosebumps while reading this:

Writing is how ideas are spread. Writing is a forcing function to sharpen our own understanding of a subject. Writing changes people’s minds and clarifies our own. Writing can make a dent in culture.

I know this is true. It reminded me the birth of a recent food company based in France I now proudly use every month at least: Omie. Christian [Jorge - previously Vestiaire Collective & Arianee co-founder; among other stuff] started to write on medium his why [🇫🇷] behind his newest project and that's how he met his then co-founders, Coline, Josephine and Benoit. Talking about making an impact.

On the other side of the spectrum, I'm sharing my life with a naturally-gifted writer - A Wander Woman - who has always written something somewhere; be it diaries [every kind], notebooks, blogs, newsletters; both in french and english [maybe some spanish or portuguese I don't even know].

While growing up, I viewed writing more like a school assignment. I didn't enjoy it that much. It obviously changed when I logged online for the first time. And even though I didn't treat my online activity as 'writing' - in retrospect, that was mainly what I was doing. I comically tried to maintain some kind of writing habits. Back in 2015 - on this very space - I blogged 'back to writing'. It has obviously been a struggle ever since. 'Go back to writing' has been part of my resolutions list every year. In June 2020 I tried to articulate more why I wanted to write. And naturally, at the very end of that year, I made it one of my goal [again] for 2021. Since then, I published twice: january 2021, then february 2021, then... nothing. Well, at least, nothing here. I did write from time to time on other publications.

I shared Austin's feeling so many times: I felt stuck. Imposter syndrome was running in full speed. So I joined Lonely Writers Club.

[...] a new ephemeral peer group for writers providing creative mutual support. A space where interested people can transform their writing practices, collaborate with others, and create writing labels with people who share similar interests and visions.

We met for 3 weeks online, every wednesday for around 1.5 hours. It ran during the second half of September. What has been the impact on me? I think I've found some healthy motivation and a community of peers.

In more concrete terms:

Overall, I feel rejuvenated. And I'm still trying to grasp the full impact of a question thrown out during one of our live session: What would my life look like if I put writing first? 🤯


Objet du jour

Randomly, I finally found last month my old pencil bag. And to my surprise, I re-discovered a few pens I received and used in the past. Like this Diabolo model from Cartier. Full story engraved for eternity with Objet.