Writing is a solitary path. Often it’s just me and the book, staring at each other over the keyboard. Not all of us are meant to follow solitary pursuits, and as a writer I find myself in a group to remind me why I do it.

It’s cold here in Iowa. So cold it feels like we closed the Midwest for a time. No one seems to be talking about much else, whether someone had to go out or not, and when there might be school in the future, and how we might go to school until when we miss this many days.

Luckily, we live in modern eras where we can do it all online if we must. We connect on a daily basis through apps and we can video chat and even – like last night – run meetings watching someone else’s screen for a tutorial on something new. (I got a crash course in canva!)

There’s more to a group than just the writing for me, though. It’s also about keeping up the momentum on my book, which has stalled, and reminding myself that there are reasons to pick it up again. They remind me they want to read it, and they make me remember what I love about these characters.

I keep thinking, this week my kids will be back in school and I can focus on my book. Maybe that’ll be done in June, too, when the landscape’s less a frozen tundra. Winter’s never been my favorite. I experienced it through the front door as I let people in or out, but I didn’t venture into it. Maybe next time.

Since I had extra kids, I pressed them into helping me organize my games. I found the pinkest deck ever:

If there’s a pinker deck, I hope I never run across it. I’d feel compelled to buy it for my daughter, who fell in love with this one.