My first writing group — back at the very start of my transition to being a writer — was in Alice Springs, Australia. Such groups come and go — when they survive for long periods, it is often on the wings of one energetic person. The person you depend on to show up with the keys to the building, who always shows up with enthusiasm and new pages. The person who accepts you and welcomes you when you are new, and whose history is long enough that when someone else new comes to the table, you learn it is actually someone returning.
For our group, Meg Williams was that person, and more. She was a note-taker, and idea-maker. She was an ex-teacher working on a trilogy of middle-grade books. She was lovely, and though we hadn’t corresponded for a decade, when I learned she passed away last week, it pierced my heart.