When I set out to learn about my mother's bridge club, the Jewish octogenarians behind the matching outfits and accessories, I never expected to fall in love with them. This is the story of the ladies, their game, their gen, and the ragged path that led me back to my mother.So I found a fuck buddy. And by that I mean a writer who I trust and with whom I’m exchanging pages. Thirty a month. The first of the month, like the rent and electric. I wasn’t exactly looking for it, but through the blog, yes this decade-old screed from my heart, brought the baby Moses in a basket to my door, or was he still clinging to the reeds of a river, or before that when cuneiform figures were pressed into tablets of warm clay. It’s exhilarating and scary and good to have a cross in the snow where better men than me have searched the tundra and were buried. Good to have a furry hood. We’ve only exchanged once so far so but it was hugely encouraging and helpful. And while I’ve always believed in the solitary, solipsistic, narcissistic, self-aggrandizing, glorious solitude of writing, this is nice.
Do you have a writing buddy? If not, can you find one?
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Betsy Lerner 
I have a wondrous, beautiful writing buddy. I too found her on this decade-old screed from your heart. I am so very grateful to you both.
I have a wondrous, beautiful writing buddy. I too found her on this decade-old screed from your heart. I’m so very grateful to you both.
Very difficult, even to find a paid coach to work with after the Floyd murder when the subject is a “dead Confederate,” not named Lee or Jackson. And this work isn’t a celebration of the “Lost Cause.”
No. I could probably find one, but I don’t know if I want to. There are a few people I’d trust to be honest, but a lot more I’m not so sure about. It would be a mutual commitment, so that’s also part of my hesitancy.
When they used to say buddy up in school I was always afraid I would be the odd one out (not that I’m odd. I’m so not.) But anyway, it’s just me. No editor. No coach. No soulmate. Could use one of those.
Happy you have a buddy you feel comfortable with. That’s a rare and wonderful thing!
I don’t have a writing buddy, but I have a group that I’ve known and loved and worked with (on and off) for maybe 20 years that I can go to for a good critique. Once I get more research done and can write intelligently about the subject, I’ll probably get back with it.
Like MikeD. I could probably find one, but I’m not sure if I want to.
Yes. Jesus, how do the rest of you deal with the anxiety? Self-soothing only works for so long.
“Do you have a writing buddy? If not, can you find one?”
No, I have no writing buddy. I do not know if I could find one. I suppose I would have to look in order to find out. I don’t know that I will.
But now I turn, for a few moments, to the topic of the fuck buddy. You knew I would. Fuck buddy, as you may know, is a term from the pre-AIDS gay demi-monde. In those days, many were the frisky lads who might have a fuck buddy or two or five. It was difficult for a straight guy to get himself a fuck buddy. I had one partner I could comfortably characterize that way, but all the other straight women I knew bristled at the idea of being referred to as a fuck buddy. They took it to be a disrespectful casting of their intimate desires and delights.
These days, I ain’t got no buddy, and I don’t give a fuck.
Hi. I do have a writing buddy for my novels and plays, the latest a musical. I also belong to a wonderful playwriting group with seasoned playwrights and actors. It’s taken me 50 years to find them and well worth the effort.
No. Not for 20 years. The last one I had said my writing was great.
That’s when I realized she was lying.
Yes, I do. Two gems from this very blog. Thanks to Betsy.