During the first six months of Lobo Luna’s existence as a writing community, the activity was constant. New members were joining and introducing themselves. I was busy finding moderators that would support my goals for the community. I worked on new content for members to discuss. Members talked about what they wanted from the community and what they felt they could offer.

The community was founded with sharing the love in mind. I’d been following the writing business, a few authors, and four small presses for years while I finished up my degree in accounting. I wanted to write but felt I didn’t have the time. Instead, I spent any free time I had getting to know some talented writers and editors. I got involved in promoting their work. I encouraged them at every opportunity. I did this because they were so involved with bringing up the new writers. I was one or at least fancied that I would be in time.

By the time my college career drew to a close, I knew that I wanted to establish a community that would connect experienced writers with new ones. I wanted to share what I had learned and encouraged other members to do the same. I was also able to empathize with those just starting out. I could pin point things that they might need to learn to help them. Our more experienced members offered anecdotes about their career paths and the struggles they still faced. Story placements were lauded. Interviews were conducted. Reviews were posted. The critique for short stories never really got off the ground, but poetry, while unexpected, flourished on Freewrite Fridays.

The community opened its virtual doors in June of 2008, the day after my last class. By fall of the same year, workshops in the community lost participation. The prompt activities were not drawing the crowd they once had. There was less discussion in comments on posts. The crickets had come to Lobo Luna.

As a new moderator and new writer, I panicked. I was concerned that I wasn’t doing enough to meet the needs of the members. I took the responsibility very seriously. I would post an entry asking what could be done to return the community to its previous fervor. Traffic would increase for a few months and then fall away again. Lather. Rinse. Repeat.

When the writing community turned one, there was a surge in membership and activity. I mentioned to the members that I was intent on making the community work for them. In discussions with them about the crickets, a couple of the oldest members mentioned something very important, “It is a writing community. If we are quiet, if the crickets are singing, that’s a good thing. Hopefully, it means we are writing.”

That lesson really hit home for me. So much of what I do in my writing life is filler for what I should be doing, writing. The community is still active. I post when I have something to say. I try to remember to post when I learn something new about my writing. I hope what I am learning helps others. I just want to encourage them to keep trying. I do find myself less involved with my usual internet activities; I’ve grown quiet as I strive to write. This year is all about words on the page. I welcome the crickets. I am grateful for them.

The day after my last class, I opened Lobo Luna.

M.G. Ellington lives in Greensboro, NC with her family. By day, she crunches numbers. By night, she plays with words. She is also the founding moderator of Lobo Luna, a writing community, and Long & Short of Fic – Reviews, a fiction review community, on LiveJournal.com.