Friends in Far Places

I’ve moved around so much that my friends are all over North America and I have no one local to go for coffee with and commiserate about life. I miss this type of interaction, and envy those who have it. My neighbourhood is not conducive to making friends (2.5 acre parcels, no sidewalk, traffic). I tried to make friends with a local writer, but it kind of fizzled out and I don’t know if that was my fault or hers. As in, whose turn was it to make contact and schedule another coffee date?

So, I was really happy last week that I was able to meet up with my Slack friends, whom I first met at my book launch last June at Nipika Resort, an off-grid set of cabins near Kootenay National Park.

At Nipika, we hung out, talked books and read books, walked on the trails (watching for bears), and gave feedback on each other’s writing. At the time, my book had just come out, Erin was working on the proposal for her second book, and Mel was trying to decide what her next book would be about. Nia was working on a few essays about nature and people, and Kim was working on museum exhibits.

We all helped each other out: we each read the beginning of Erin’s proposal and offered feedback, we brainstormed with Mel over topics that might interest her for her next book, and we read Nia’s essays to help her find the ending (she says she always writes past what should be the ending). We learned loads of things from Kim’s discussions of her museum exhibits, including how to represent First Nations with respect and consideration.

So, when we had the opportunity to meet up again, everyone enthusiastically agreed. This time we met in southern Ontario, near Kingston. Kim has an AirBnB that we could all stay in.

Once again, we all helped each other out. I’m finalizing a book proposal I had an idea about last year.  Erin is halfway through writing the book whose proposal we commented on last year. Mel is shopping around a proposal for her next book that we briefly talked about last year. Nia is putting together a proposal based on an idea we had last year. And Kim continues to work on museum exhibits, including one job I passed on to her.

It’s been a great group for generating ideas and putting plans into action.

But it’s not just that. We share personal successes and failures, family and health issues, dreams and aspirations. No topic is too personal, and everyone is supportive and caring. We carry this support over to our Slack group, but it’s most evident in our get-togethers. Everyone brought books to share, life problems to solve, and stories about writing and the creative life.

It was a hugely relaxing five days. We started with coffee (tea for me) on the deck overlooking the water. Then moved back indoors for breakfast. Mel cracked open a puzzle that she finished on her last day there. We sat around and talked through lunch and into the afternoon. I had to nap for a couple of hours every afternoon but I didn’t get FOMO—I felt like I was just taking a break and would slide back into the conversation when I got up. We talked deep into the night, not realizing the time until someone started yawning and we all followed suit.

While there, we watched the full moon rise from Kim’s dock, reflecting off the water like a path not taken. I was waiting to hear a loon—it would have completed the picture. I was sad to leave, but we all have “real” lives to return to. I’m looking forward to next year—Vancouver Island 2027!