In These Rooms

On Al-Anon, Recovery, and the Creative Process

Six months ago today, I walked into my first Al-Anon meeting in a classroom at a nearby Episcopal church. I had no idea what to expect, but several people I trust had gently suggested that I might try it, and eventually, I had to.

Al-Anon Family Groups exist to support friends and family members of alcoholics. We practice the same 12 Steps as those in Alcoholics Anonymous, with only one minor word change in the twelfth step. The essence is the same; we are recovering from how alcoholism has affected our own lives.

I didn’t expect to write about Al-Anon here, but it’s already become a big part of my spiritual foundation. I see how studying the 12 Steps and 12 Traditions, attending meetings, reading the literature, and working with a sponsor can help me shift away from my writing fears.

Progress, not perfection.

—Al-Anon Slogan

But back to this newsletter. I’m writing a novel. I wasn’t MFA-trained to do that, although I’ve attended plenty of workshops, read plenty of craft books, and subscribe to the paid Substack newsletters of some of my favorite writers. I hang on their every word! Although I feel nervous about what I’m doing both here and in my manuscript, I’m compelled to “keep coming back” to the various rooms where I write it, just as I keep returning to the meeting rooms of Al-Anon. Somehow, I know that writing this newsletter will help me with my novel in progress, and my ongoing recovery.

In Al-Anon, anonymity is essential. At each meeting, we remind each other, whom you see here, what you hear here, when you leave here, let it stay here.

This is also what I’ve learned about my work in progress. I am not telling you about my story right now, even though I have lots of characters, scenes, and settings. So don’t ask, okay? If I tell you about it, I’m violating something sacred, a promise that I’ve made to myself that I’ll write this. And if I tell you about it, my brain will think I have already done all the work.

Recovery and writing a novel are like a car wash. It’s messy at the start, and you can’t see where you’re going, but a process is indeed unfolding. And hopefully, there will come a point when the windshield is clear(er) and I can see where I’m headed, at least far enough ahead to take the “next right step.”

If someone you love has a drinking problem, consider attending an Al-Anon meeting. Here’s the meeting finder.