Say the word "networking" and people make faces - sour lemons topped with lime zest faces. The whole idea of networking, meeting people so we can do business with them, feels ick to most people.
If you’re a creative, networking feels even grosser, though. Why? Mainly because we have this ideal that we will succeed (or not) in our creative work based on the quality of our work. Smacking us in the face on a regular basis, however, is that getting published, winning an audition, or landing a gallery is often about who you know as much as what you can do.
When people say that, I sense that it’s with a feeling of despair. But we have a lot of control over who we know. In case you’re thinking, “that’s rich coming from a woman who seems to know a bunch of people,” remember that when I landed arrived in Edmonton in July 2021, I knew exactly five people. Three of them were flying with me.
Lucky for me, If there’s one thing I know how to do - it’s meet people.
How to Meet People
As far a I can tell, there’s no way to talk about this without just sounding a bit weird. I’m a people meeting machine because I have been the new person time and time again. I moved to Chicago as a stay-at-home mom, ditto for Nijmegen, and more or less the same here. And that’s just in my married life. Without a school or job to land in, I’ve often had only time, curiosity, and my own personality to rely on for creating community.
Today, I have a wonderful writing community and friends in Edmonton these days. To my surprise, I seem to “know people” despite being fairly new in town.
Let me tell you how it works, a sort of case study about how I got to know Jenna Butler, one of Alberta’s particularly valuable literary treasures. It’s the story of strangers to friends with a little detour through the Valley of Cringe.
In October 2023, half way through my year of pretending to be a writer, the Alexandra Writers’ Centre newsletter announced “Telling our Deep Stories,” 4-hour online workshop offered by their writer-in-residence, Jenna Butler. My receipt is dated the same day as the newsletter and that’s because Jenna mentioned Annie Lammott and Nathalie Goldberg in her workshop description. Nathalie Goldberg’s Writing Down the Bones was one of the first books about writing I owned.
In my journal the morning after the workshop, I wrote that it was excellent and that Jenna is a skilled teacher. I emailed her a thank you note. A few days later, she was in Edmonton for an event at Daisy Chain Book Co and I was there.
From my morning pages the next day:
Another session with Jenna Butler and oh my - how my brain has craved that kind of interaction - that kind of conversation. Part of me absolutely came alive. I don’t know how to get more of that in my life except to keep writing my newsletter. And find a way to stay in touch with her…
The email I wrote after that event was signed, “President, Jenna Butler Fan Club.” She didn’t reply and who can blame her? Few sane people respond to messages from the Valley of Cringe.
Escaping the Valley of Cringe
But in June 2024, we crossed paths again, this time at the Writers Guild of Alberta annual conference. I gave her plenty of space. The last thing I want to do (ever) is force my acquaintance on anyone. People are busy and have their own priorities. I respect that.
But, then Jessica Johns gave a deeply moving talk about what it meant to be in treaty. Her talk left me overwhelmed with emotion, deeply aware of my settler status in Canada, and confused about how to reconcile it with my immigrant experiences. I stood up and Jenna was at the table behind me. She looked as moved as I was and (with her consent) we hugged. I think we both needed it.
Maybe I wasn’t so cringy after all.
A month later, I was working on an article and I sent a questionnaire link to Jenna along with a few other writers I’d met. In October, I attended the LitFest session she hosted with Tanya Telaga, and just said hi. This was when I learned she was reading my newsletter (Hi Jenna) and nearly died.
Writing was hard for a few weeks after that because I was deeply aware of wanting to impress her (and the rest of you, of course). It took some work to push that particular shitbird off my shoulder.
Then a couple weeks ago, I saw on Instagram that Jenna would be MacEwan University’s writer in residence. Jenna doesn’t live in town, so this was my opportunity to meet with her, which I did last Tuesday.
It was awful in the sense that I was so nervous that instead of sleeping the night before, I stayed up until 2 am trying to not feel panicked. Then, instead of preparing to chat with her and talk about my question, I just continued to quietly panic all morning until we met for coffee after lunch.
How did the coffee go? Well, we didn’t have coffee. What had great conversation. She listened to a lot of anxiety ridden writerly rambling and gave me some great advice. I left feeling great and believe me, I’ll be back in her office next month.
Creatives Need Networks
All of which is to say - in the longest possible way - that we are in control of who we know. That networking doesn’t have to be creepy, that getting to know people takes time (it’s been a year and a half since my first interaction with Jenna and we just had our first one-on-one conversation), and that people are more forgiving of your awkward emails than you think.
People hate networking for all kinds of reasons. They are introverts or feel defensive and self-critical. They feel like they need to prove themselves, to demonstrate their worth as a conversation partner. A lot of that comes from going about networking thinking the goal is to establish exchanges. There’s a different way to look at it - a curiosity-based approach that allows you to be your (sometimes cringy) self and still make meaningful connections.
The most important thing to remember is that it never includes talking about what you have to offer.
Do you have networking stories to share? Drop them in the comments!
If you’re in Calgary this weekend, attend my Networking Sucks workshop at the Alexandra Writing Centre on 18 January from 10:30 - 12:00. It’ll be interactive and fun, I promise.
Read Jessica Johns’ essay about about Kombucha as Treaty for a glimpse of how incredible she is!
Does networking in the Canada Post queue count?