I Found Community and Acceptance at a Zibby Retreat
It was a space where I could be vulnerable, and share the ideas I’d been turning over and over in my mind for years
By Swampy Hawkins
Let’s make one thing clear: I am not the target demo.
I’m a 53-year-old hetero cis male writer who began the year with aspirations to connect with a more literary community and finally write a book—and it took me this long to find my people. As it turns out, all I had to do was show up at a bookish retreat in Charleston, and there they were: a cohort of writers, readers, librarians, and creators.
I’d also booked the retreat for the chance to hear my sober sister, the incomparable Laura Cathcart Robbins, share her stories and talk about her fantastic book Stash. I was already a huge Zibby fan, but when I learned Laura would appear at one of the Zibby Retreats, I knew it was perfect for me—with one tiny catch.
This was no ordinary retreat. This was a gathering of fierce, welcoming, intelligent, interested, and engaging women. And each and every person I encountered was more fascinating than the next. The fact that they were all women and I was the only man is hardly worth mentioning. That isn’t even the point.
This event was a getaway for book-loving, like-minded, generous spirits to connect and inspire each other. It was a collection of humans who all seemed genuinely interested in sharing. The weekend mood was infectious and energizing; I immediately knew I wanted to be a part of it—and I knew I belonged. I was made to feel that I belonged. There wasn’t a moment of awkwardness or alienation for me at the retreat. Just new places to explore, new people to meet, new stories to share.
The other retreaters welcomed me and took an interest in my writing projects, asking important questions, offering helpful suggestions and endless encouragement. Anything was game and nothing off limits. I was floored. It was a retreat unlike any I’d ever experienced, yet everyone behaved as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
I didn’t know what to expect when I booked the trip, but I hoped for inspiration, connection, and community. I got all of that and so much more. But most importantly, I found acceptance.
For as long as I can remember, I’ve always been more comfortable in the company of women: my many, mostly female, friends are a testament to that fact. I credit a healthy relationship with my mom, the invaluable influence of my gay dad, and a lifelong distrust and disdain for the patriarchy. I have plenty of male friends, too—mainly of the creative/sensitive sort, but despite my imposing bikerish appearance, I’m deeply connected to my feminine essence. Situations like this retreat are where I feel most safe. I’d much rather discuss books, music, food, our kids, and fashion than sports, fishing, cars, or the Roman Empire. That’s always been the case, and I prefer it that way.
The first session of the weekend was a revelation. On the dais at the stately and inviting Charleston Library Society, three brilliant authors shared their experiences, creative techniques, frustrations, and victories, all conveyed with joyous, side-splitting humor and lots of love and kindness. At the same time, we lucky audience members enjoyed their wisdom and a delicious, light lunch, followed by a meet-and-greet book signing with the authors, who were even more engaging one-on-one.
The weekend’s remaining sessions were more like conversations. Accomplished authors like Laura Cathcart Robbins, Joanna Rakoff, Mary Otis, Tina Wells, Megan Tady, Mary Alice Monroe, Gervais Hagerty, Zibby Owens (of course), and others openly shared their experiences and techniques while patiently answering every question and then joining us to share fabulous meals and an occasional Uber ride back to the hotel.
We talked about books, walked, shopped, laughed, and ate biscuits.
Then we did yoga with Tara Stiles. Have you ever met a beaming ray of light and calmness in human form with a wicked, quick, and kind sense of humor? Halfway through our first conversation, I felt like I’d reconnected with an old, trusted friend.
I didn’t know what to expect when I booked the trip, but I hoped for inspiration, connection, and community. I got all of that and so much more. But most importantly, I found acceptance.
Speaking of friends, Zibby was engaged and involved with every aspect of the retreat. Her welcoming spirit and enthusiasm for all things bookish came together to make the experience a joy for everyone involved. Walking between independent bookstores and chatting with Zibby was a highlight in a weekend filled with highlights. She really is a fantastic listener. Shout out to Graça and Sherri and all of the Zibby Retreats staff. They are all the hardest working, loveliest, most dedicated, and most encouraging people I’ve ever met.
I didn’t realize how much I needed this community, a space where I could be vulnerable to share the ideas I’d been turning over and over in my mind for years. I was not only safe but encouraged to pursue subjects and stories I’ve kept locked inside for too long, not out of fear but out of lack of context. No one in my life showed me the power and importance of storytelling at this level. I’d looked for similar literary events by and for my male peers, and they don’t seem to exist. If they do, they’re typically Hemingway-inspired bonfire and bourbon gatherings for only the manliest of male writers. No thanks. I don’t know who my audience is, but I now know that they’re out there. Even if it’s just my new retreat friends, that would be enough.
I want to thank this inspiring community for welcoming me to a place I’d been seeking out for so long and didn’t know existed. I’d list them all by name, but the list would be too long.
My work has improved (thanks to my daily accountability group which I found at the retreat), my community has expanded, my mental health has benefitted, and I’ve become an unlikely evangelist for all things Zibby. Bonus benefit: I’ve read more books since the retreat than I read all of last year.
This is the power of the Zibbyverse: “Here’s this great thing I want to share with you, created by this awesome person I want you to know. And if you like that, you’ll love this!” There’s a seemingly limitless supply of this uplifting enthusiasm, and it’s yours for the taking.
One of the most humbling and flattering outcomes of my experience was having several of my new friends ask if I planned to attend subsequent Zibby Retreats and then have them express genuine disappointment when I said I couldn’t make it to Miami or Solvang. I was initially worried I’d be viewed as an intruder or interloper who didn’t belong, but my friends repeatedly reassured me that I was now part of the family and a positive addition to the community. That’s not a “me” thing; that’s “this kickass community” thing.
It’s possible that you already know these things, and all that I encountered might be unsurprising to you. But if you’re new here, welcome. I think you’re going to love it.
I clearly do.
Swampy Hawkins is an Atlanta-based writer, husband, and dad of four interested in deconstructing gender norms and exploring neurodivergence. He’s working on his debut novel about life with a gay dad.