Women, Words and the Wild Ride of WFWA

Writing is hard. Not “ugh, my bangs are uneven” hard, but “I-just-bared-my-soul-and-now-strangers-are-judging-it” hard. Yet, here I am—willingly walking into the fire, laptop in hand, words in my heart.

This past year, I took my writing from the safety of my laptop to the wild world of WFWA (Women’s Fiction Writers Association), where women with big stories and even bigger dreams gather. I went to my first pitch event and, let me tell you, nothing humbles you faster than trying to condense your entire book—your soul!—into 60 seconds. It’s speed dating with people who hold your future in their inboxes.

But here’s the thing I learned: the women I met there? Powerhouses. They weren’t just writers—they were cheerleaders, therapists, and warriors in lipstick. They understood the late-night editing tears, the “does this scene work?” spirals, and the bravery it takes to hit “send.”

For women, writing often feels like rebellion. We’re told to be quiet, to keep it polished, to smile more and bleed less. But at WFWA, I met women who embrace the messy truth of their stories, and who reminded me that even when writing feels humiliating or impossible, we’re not alone.

Sure, I left with bruised pride (and a list of edits longer than my grocery list), but also with a fire in my chest. Because this isn’t just about books—it’s about voice. About daring to be seen.