Writers Anonymous: The Problem

That was what Mibba had told himself after walking out from that meeting some months ago. It had seemed like a rather outlandish idea to him at first - the original murmur of his self-posed suggestion having been more of a joke than a serious proposal, but after some thought, he caved in. The Writers Anonymous meeting may have been a waste of his own time, but he had to admit, the others that were in that meeting with him – Fan Fiction, Cecilia Wattpad, and Penny Quizilla – were a unique combination of souls.

He experimented. He wrote about all the possibilities that he could create, all the different scenarios he could put them into. He recorded down meeting notes that had never actually happened, scrawled down Penny, Fan, and Cecilia's imaginary progress and plunders – gave their characters time to realize that they, too, didn't have a problem.

And one day, just for the heck of it, Mibba went strolling down familiar pathways towards the recreational center where they held the meetings, hesitantly climbing a staircase towards the double doors of the building, and eventually finding his way to the room he had sat in with those three other personalities.

“Mibba?”

Hearing his name, he turned on his heel cautiously, and his stomach seemed to fall a bit when he noticed it was Lorraine, the person in charge of the Writers Anonymous meetings. She hadn't changed much – she was wearing the same drab business suit attire and had her brown hair in that overly tidy bun, but for some reason he could tell something was different about her and the aura she gave off. The previous time they had seen each other, she had been so eager to get him into the group, to rid him of his problem, but today, she seemed more peaceful than pushy.

Clearing his throat, he nodded, “Lorraine.”

She smiled when he seemed to recognize her. “Well, I certainly didn't expect to see you here today, Mibba.”

“Neither did I.”

“What brings you here today?”

“Nothing, really. I just was wandering around the area and thought I'd stop by. How are the meetings going?”

“They're not.”

“What do you mean?”

Lorraine smiled as she began to explain vaguely, “Well, there's no real need for them anymore.”

“Does this mean...” his voice trailed off almost glumly, his gut hoping that he was wrong as he continued, “Fan, Penny, and Cecilia gave up writing?”

“Not at all. Actually, I think you leaving did them some good.”

“It did? But didn't you think that we had problems for writing?”

“Mibba, there's not a problem with people writing. I never did correct you when you said you didn't have a problem in the meeting, did I?”

“Then... what were these meetings even for?”

“Well, it varies for each person, but I'm sure that Fan, Penny, and Cecilia each had their own individual reasons for attending the meetings. I know that your parents were the ones who reached out to the group to make you come, I even spoke with them about it. Your mother is especially proud of you for your writing, it's just that she wanted for you to get out more.” She recalled with a fond smile. “She told me, 'Mibba is my favorite author, and I know that writing is his life, but he spends all his time with his notebook or laptop. I want him to experience the things in his life that he can do right now. I know that he lives to write, and I'm proud of him for it, but I don't want for him to write to live.'”

“My mom never told me that...” he muttered softly, in awe over how much she thought of him and a little guilty over feeling so upset with them for sending to the meetings in the first place.

“You or the others never had a problem,” Lorraine continued, “and I think when they saw you leave, they knew that too. The group started coming less and less, they would even bring me some samples that they'd written because they were so proud!” The ends of her mouth curled up as a laugh escaped her throat. “Although I think Fan did it just out of smite on occasion.”

“I can see him doing that.” Mibba agreed.

“I'm sure they're doing well, though. And I know that they're doing what they love. Are you?”

“Of course,” he nodded. “Between you and me, I actually wrote something about my time here, but it's nothing special and pretty short.”

“Publish it.” Mibba's mouth hung slightly open as he stared at Lorraine in shock. “It may be 'nothing special' to you, Mibba, but to others, it might just be something they need to read. There's no harm in submitting it to a publisher.” Lorraine's cellphone began to ring, a colleague attempting to get in touch and she immediately noticed the call. “It looks like I've got to get back to work, Mibba. It was nice seeing you again, though. I hope you will consider it – publishing your work.”

Mibba stared at Lorraine's figure heading off down the hall till she disappeared into another corridor, his body and mind never having been in such a tranquil state before as he came to a decision.