Get Out of the Shire

Creative Friendship, Writing in Oxford, and You

In case you don’t have time to read the whole post, here’s what you need to know: 1) Joe Bunting and I are hosting a writing retreat in Oxford this summer, and 2) early bird discounts for my live seminar in April expire at the end of the day.

I met my good friend Joe Bunting on the Internet. After admiring each other’s blogs for the greater part of a year, he and I helped my boss-at-the-same and his eventual father-in-law write a book. It was the start of something wonderful.

One afternoon in the middle of that project, Joe told me of a website he was launching, and I was instantly jealous. Not long after that, we took a road trip together to Chicago to attend a conference, and it was there that I met my first publisher.

So it went for something like the next thirteen years.

Since then, Joe and I have seen each other experience our own successes and challenges, the necessary ups and downs of the writing life. We’ve encouraged each other to stay true to our values and pursue our biggest, most audacious dreams. We’ve gone on multiple trips together, stayed in one another’s homes, and watched each other’s kids grow up.

At times, Joe and I have been quite close and other times pretty distant (the latter usually due to my own insecurities). When we drifted, he was kind enough to reach out and rekindle the relationship, and I was willing to admit I didn’t have it all figured out.

Over the course of our friendship, each of us has taken our own turns at standing in the spotlight. And for a good while, I foolishly thought I had more to offer than receive. But that’s not how real friendship goes.

These days, I just watch Joe go and try to keep up. He is one of those people who is so talented and intelligent that I have to be careful how much time I spend with him, because he reminds me of all the things I wish I were better at. That can be a hard thing to face, sometimes—a person who reminds you of your own potential.

Which is a pretty good definition of what I simply consider “creative friendship.” We all need folks in our lives who gently, and sometimes not-so-gently, nudge us in the direction of what we are capable of.

Yes, it’s good to have family members and friends who don’t care what we do for a living or who we are to the public. But it is also necessary to have a few artists for friends. These aren’t always easy relationships to manage, but they are essential to the life of any creative professional.

A few months ago, my wife and I hosted Joe for a night at our house. While he stayed with us, we all went to see my son perform in an outdoor concert. There, while sipping spiked hot chocolates, I randomly shared an idea with Joe for a book I might someday write.

“You need to do that,” he said in an atypically demanding way. Joe is not one to freely offer unsolicited advice.

I nodded. “I know…”

“No, you don’t. You need to write that book now. You know who would publish it. You know they’d do it. You just have to contact the editor, tell them the idea, and make it happen. Here, I’ll even give you a title for it…”

He did. And it was a pretty good one. Then, over German food that night, he helped me brainstorm my way out of a tough financial pickle while we scarfed down sauerkraut.

Joe is that kind of friend, the kind who shows up when you need it, won’t leave when you push him away, and tells you what you must do even when you are too stubborn to want to see it.

So it should not have surprised me when I off-handedly suggested to this man that while he’s in England for the summer we should do a writer’s retreat in Oxford.

Less than a week later, he had already booked a venue and started selling tickets.

Once again, I had to catch up with Joe.

Perhaps, it’s no coincidence that the place where my friend and I are hosting an in-person writing workshop is the same site where the authors C.S. Lewis and J.R.R. Tolkien found each other

These literary giants became acquainted with one another not when they had both achieved worldwide respect and fame for their contributions to the English language—that came later. Rather, the two young professors bonded over a vulnerable exchange of poetry, offering private writings to each other as a way of saying, “I have more to offer… but does anyone care?”

Indeed, they did.

And thus began an iconic friendship spanning the decades and leaving a literary legacy for future generations.

In many ways, the story reminds me of those early days when Joe and I shared our blogs with each other, like a secret we hoped others would discover. When you are just starting out, even re-starting out, it helps to have a kindred spirit who can resonate with what you’re trying to do. It’s a comfort to find another voice in the wilderness willing to encourage that spark within, gently correcting where needed.

When Tolkien shared the first few chapters of what he was then calling The New Hobbit with Lewis, Lewis told him over lunch: “Tollers, don’t you know that hobbits are only interesting once you take them out of the Shire?”

I suppose the same could be said of any writer. My life, and my work, only gets interesting when I step out of my comfort zone. I have to keep taking risks, keep pushing beyond the known. Which was why when Joe texted me this morning that the retreat was already selling out (after only announcing it yesterday), I had to tell him in no uncertain terms: “I’m in.”

Sometimes in life, things move quickly. Far too often, they don’t move at all. Not because things aren’t happening, but because we are still in a place too secure to see the action—much less get in on it. Often, it takes the vision of a friend to help us imagine new possibilities. I’m grateful I have that in Joe.

And this is what I hope our workshop and retreat does for those who attend it. You can read more about it here. Just don’t delay. Joe isn’t one to wait around for someone to get their act together. I know from experience that if you want to be part of the next big thing, you have to get out of the Shire.

P.S. We have a total of sixteen spots available for the Oxford writing retreat. As of this morning, that was down to twelve. I imagine they will go quickly since it’s coming up in June, so try not to delay. To register, all you need to do is sign up and pay a deposit. Important dates and details including location and schedule are all available here.

P.P.S. Today is also the early bird deadline for my upcoming seminar in April called The Fundamentals of Short Form. The price for the online course, the live seminar, and the coaching spots all go up at midnight tonight. See all the details here.

If you have any questions about the above, just shoot me an email.

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© 2024 Jeff Goins
548 Market Street PMB 72296, San Francisco, CA 94104
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