I spent a beautiful day watching my good friend (and good writer) Megan marry the man of her dreams, and also got to see a larger crowd of MFA co-alums than I have since graduation. Once the bride had departed, we stood outside the church and chatted about what we were up to. It turns out I am writing more than I thought I was. I’ve got three things I’m puttering with at the moment (a “proper” story, the kind of thing I’d submit for workshop; a exploratory finger into zombie fic; and a just-for-me Doctor Who thing based on a dream I had that is meant purely for fun). It was good to hear myself listing them aloud. I’m not sure I would have realized I actually do put in semi-consistent writing time without the experience of sharing that news.

I do want to say a quick word about Megan: She is one of the more dedicated writers in my graduating year, regularly submitting and polishing her work. It’s both inspiring and guilt-inducing, in the best way. Megan also has a knack for hope in her work that I sometimes have a hard time with. It’s easier, in some ways, to write stories where everything goes wrong. It can turn into the perfect negative of the Mary Sue: flawed people never achieving a true resolution at all. Megan’s characters have real problems and real interactions, but she can find ways to happy endings through them as well, which is harder and braver than it first appears.

It’s probably this attitude that has also led to the group of friends she has. I was invited to the pre-wedding festivities, and quickly realized friends from grad school, college, high school, middle school, and even earlier were represented. I was also happily surprised by how welcoming and generous all of these friends turned out to be. I can’t help but feel that Megan’s own generous spirit and eye for hope and happiness is what helps her keep these friendships so strong. It’s a good quality for love as well as fiction.