“One does not discover new lands without consenting to lose sight of the shore for a very long time.” Andre Gide.
That quote, one of my favorites, speaks to the necessity of risk—courage to leave behind the safety of the familiar—in order to grow. As authors, we soar highest I think when we push ourselves away from the familiar. Readers crave fresh perspectives, unique storylines, and unfamiliar settings. Experimentation is a great teacher.
But as rewarding as discovery may be in our writing, losing sight of the shore in our personal lives can unsettle. As I prepared to leave the USA two years ago, apprehension tempered the excitement. What would life be like in Brussels? What about my writing? A new continent and city would certainly provide fresh material. But writing is lonely, an occupation often pursued in silent refuge. In Chicago, I found a cure for isolation. I joined, Off Campus Writers Workshop and The Barrington Writers Workshop, the city’s two oldest writing groups. The bonds formed with fellow writers fulfilled me, personally and professionally. Camaraderie was only one benefit. Members inspired and motivated, helping me to become a better writer.
Surfing the Internet from the security of my Chicago home, I found the Brussels Writers Circle. The website was informative and welcoming. With a very favorable first impression, I dashed off an email of introduction. Upon receipt of David’s reply, I felt comforted. A safe haven awaited me on that distant, unknown shore.
Within a fortnight of my arrival, during the dark, drizzly evenings of early January, I made my way to La Maison des Crêpes on Tuesdays and Le Falstaff on Thursdays. The first tour de table of introductions allayed fears that I was alone. All of the writers had made their way to Brussels from some other shore, near and far. Many had even crossed another frontier, language. BWC members for whom English is not their native tongue amazed me.
Weeks turned into months. BWC didn’t disappoint. Among the writers, I found the same dedication, resourcefulness, imagination and support that endeared me to the colleagues left behind in Chicago. Similar passions, I guess, drive those who yearn to write. We have a need to tell stories, stir emotions, and share truths.
And maybe even more important than providing a place to hone my craft, the writers of BWC offered friendship to Jim and me. That social outlet allowed us to adapt much quicker to our Expat life. Once settled, I could focus on writing.
And, I’ve been very productive. While living in Brussels, I self-published two novels, Jell-O and Jackie O and None Shall Sleep, and nearly completed the initial draft of my next project, a memoir. Throughout this time, BWC members offered encouragement.
Perhaps that explains why so many BWC writers are published authors. Sessions provide a safe forum. I felt comfortable experimenting with non-fiction and poetry. Honest critique based on trust and respect explains BWC’s success. The opportunity to co-chair Tuesday night sessions pleased and honored me.
Jim and I both hoped that we could have stayed in Brussels longer, but a life open to adventure knows few certainties. A new job for Jim within the Nielsen Company takes us back to Chicago. As for me, I plan to take a playwriting course to turn two ideas into dramas.
Things are starting to disappear from our home as our departure date nears. A barbecue grill, vacuum cleaner, blender, even Jim’s car. Of course this is merely stuff. We’ll miss many things about Brussels. But most of all, we’ll miss the people, especially, our many good friends of the Brussels Writers Circle.
As Jim and I prepare to leave Brussels, we face resettlement with a mix of apprehension and excitement. Yes, we have come full circle. But we return richer people because of our experience. And, I’m a better writer because of the Brussels Writers Circle. Thank you, BWC.