Community, Craft, and Service: My Work with RIRW This Month

A reflection on the Rhode Island Romance Writers (RIRW), the people who’ve shaped my experience there, and what I’m carrying with me into this month’s work.

Why community matters (and why I’m grateful). Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about what it means to be held by community. Some of that comes from my writing creative/health journey world, some from the organizations I support, and some from the writing spaces where I get to be both student and contributor. When you’re building a creative life—especially alongside real-life curveballs—having people who understand the work (and the person doing the work) matters more than I ever realized.

About RIRW—and my role

Rhode Island Romance Writers (RIRW) is a place where writers come together for craft, encouragement, and the kind of practical support that makes the writing life feel a little less solitary.

I’m not a romance writer, but I joined RIRW because I wanted to learn, to be around people who take storytelling seriously, and to find a steady creative room to return to. I serve as co-editor of the monthly newsletter, and it’s become more than a role on a list—it’s a way to listen closely, to amplify member news, and to help shape a shared record of what this community is doing and becoming.

Each month I share a few behind-the-scenes updates on what I’m working on. This month, though, I want to pause and name something that’s been sitting with me since January: I lost someone who had a real impact on my writing life—Gail, whom I met at a Rhode Island Romance Writers retreat. A close writing friend (and longtime writing buddy) invited me to attend. I hesitated at first (new rooms can be hard), but I’m grateful I said yes.

Gail—who was president at the time—welcomed me with a warmth and professionalism that settled my nerves almost immediately. We talked during breaks and again later that evening after most people had signed off. The next month I attended the Saturday meeting and became a member. And over time, my respect for Gail only grew—not just for what she did, but for how she did it: with steadiness, generosity, and a clear-eyed honesty about the realities of the writing life. Gail also encouraged me to step into service. She asked me to take on the newsletter editor role—a two-year commitment that will end in June. Her passing in January left many of us stunned and grieving.

On my own health journey these last two years, “legacy” and “transition” have become words I return to again and again. They’ve changed how I measure time and how I make choices. They’ve also made me more willing to share openly—especially when something matters.

After talking with my co-editor, I proposed dedicating the March newsletter to Gail by inviting members to contribute a remembrance. We refined the idea, brought it to the current president and board, and received their full support. What I expected to be a straightforward project grew into a 100+ page journal/magazine honoring Gail—one that is now close to completion.

There’s a particular kind of tenderness that comes with gathering people’s words about someone they loved and respected. Creating and Editing this issue has felt less like “putting together pages” and more like making space—carefully, intentionally—for a community to grieve and to celebrate the imprint one person can leave.

Completing this tribute has been both a privilege and an honor. It’s also been a quiet reminder that creative work can be a form of care. I’m grateful for every contribution, for the trust people placed in me with their memories, and for the support that made it possible to leave behind something lasting in Gail’s name.

This month’s project update

For this month’s list is a mix of deadlines and heart-work. Some items are administrative, some are creative, and some sit in that in-between space where you can feel your life changing even as you keep showing up to the page.

  • RIRW: Final edits and production steps for the Gail tribute journal/magazine (100+ pages) created from member remembrances.
  • Collaborative Cancer Care ONCOLOGUE Forum: Final preparation as the event approaches next month.
  • Upcoming Collaborative Cancer Care Anthology (December release): Early planning and coordination (I’m leading this project). I know one more thing for me to do. SMH
  • My novel + “accessories”: Delivering materials to my editor by the end of the month. And I’ve begun rewrites for book two.
  • Substack: I’ve launched a Substack and will be sharing more of my transitional/legacy journaling—free to subscribe. . https://lmichelleauthor.substack.com/

Closing

My health journey continues—with twists, turns, and now a new doctor added to my team. Some days I feel strong. Other days I move more slowly, listening to what my body is asking of me, and letting that be enough—just for this moment, just for this day. And that’s okay. I’m still writing. Still finding space to create. Still practicing the kind of hope that looks like showing up, one page at a time.

If you’re a writer whose craving community (or simply curious about what RIRW offers), I’m always happy to share more about what I’ve learned there. And if you’d like to keep up with these monthly reflections and project updates, feel free to connect with me on LinkedIn and follow along on Substack.

L’Michelle

Image by beasternchen from Pixabay