Diary of my Creative Writing PhD. Creator of Literary Events, Literary Talks and Creative Co-Producer of Stories at the Storey, North West Literary Salon and Characters in Motion/Off the Page Writing Development Performed Workshops.
Developer of If These Words Could Talk
Monday, September 19, 2011
According to their website, blog and
Tweets, the Beehive
Baltimore is an active community of writers sharing space to
increase productivity and decrease cost. It’s a classic formula, a proven
formula and financially, it makes sense.
It makes sense socially too.
The Hive is located in a cluster of
offices, within a trendy, multi-purpose warehouse-esque modern building.
I picture writers, painters,
sculptors, and dancers engaging in discussion, debate, and coffee laced with
crème and conversation.
I don’t picture writers writing,
painters painting, sculptors sculpting or dancers actually dancing.
And, I’d like to.
For the past few weeks, I’ve been
planning a visit to the Hive to see just what co-working is all about. They are
virtually locatable. I found their website; read their blog, and followed their
tweets. I can find the Hive on a map, online, on Google Earth. I can @Beehive
them, email them, or comment to a blog.
What I can’t do is call them.
Social networking, word of mouth,
and an online presence, keeps them plugged into the community they likely want
But what about me?
How do I cross the communication divide?
I can’t pull out of my coveted
parking spot on P2, drive the 3.5 miles in potential rush-hour traffic, and
search for a parking spot in the parking garage I’m not sure they have, if I
don’t know they will be there when I am.
I could email them and set up an
appointment, I could DM them, or even Tweet—but, I won’t.
I will continue to search for a
number to communicate in a medium I’m familiar with through a terrain in which