I started my application to book inc’s Memoir Incubator at the end of 2023, the rattling clack of my typing echoing in the sparse living room of my new apartment.

It felt serendipitous that my new town had a thriving writing community, and I thought I was a shoo-in because of my magazine editing and creative nonfiction workshops I’d taken. That is, until I hit a term I’d not encountered before: 

“What does it mean to be a literary citizen?” the application asked.

It seemed self-explanatory. Writers supporting other writers.

However, it felt so formal, like homework and a huge responsibility at a time that I didn’t feel I had much to give, especially in the writing department. I moved to a small town in New Jersey to slow down after a lifetime in a hectic, professionally focused city. 

I routinely posted my favorite reads on my Instagram profile to my couple of hundred followers, but couldn’t really picture myself doing anything else. I didn’t have a Goodreads account, couldn’t recall ever leaving a review, and certainly couldn’t imagine making an account on an antiquated WordPress literary website to comment on my favorite essays.

Besides, I read for pleasure first and foremost, never as part of a syllabus, and even if I curated them for myself. Case in point: the magical realism reading list I painstakingly researched, recruited another writer to join, and then abandoned.

So, what’s changed since then?

Well, I finished my memoir manuscript alongside 10 other writers in the incubator, and then met dozens of other writers in Project Write Now’s programs, and so many of them are debuting their books, landing agents, and one is even in talks for a movie deal.

I can’t say for sure what I answered in my application to the Memoir Incubator, but I can tell you what I learned in the years since joining them.

When you sit by another writer working toward completing a 50,000-word manuscript, you learn together what it means to be working on a labor of love. You learn through her stories that hope can survive amid grief and systemic injustice, or that any woman can be redeemed through the power of love and her commitment to recovery.

This powerful collective of writers and their devotion to the craft has become an inspiring force in my writing and my hopes for it. And I would do anything in my power to support them, including becoming more disciplined about reading, reviewing, and raving about their work and my own.

I’m still discovering what it means to be a good literary citizen, but the most important step on that journey has been joining a writing community. They have become the scaffold to my rich writing life, and, in the spirit of doing just that, here are a few things I’m doing to promote my friend’s work:

1. I’m challenging myself to read all of book inc’s debut authors. I’ve ordered five of the ten books so far, read two, reviewed one, and am posting about them on IG as I read.
2. I’ve decided to buy several copies of these books as Christmas and birthday gifts for other readers in my life. Since I know the authors, I might even be able to get a nice note for my recipients.
3. I’m buying from local and indie bookstores, and I even created a Bookshop page where I can recommend these authors, track whether I help sell any to my network, and potentially earn a tiny affiliate stipend if anyone purchases through my page.
   
4. I (finally) made a GoodReads account. My first review was for our program director’s debut memoir, Sober Mom. I gave her book a glowing review, not because I know and love her, but because the book was excellently written and powerful. I’m committing to taking reviewing seriously.
   
5. I asked my local public library to order these books. I learned that these book requests need approval and budget allocation, so it’s something I’ll need to check on next time I’m there.
   

It won’t lie and tell you that being a literary citizen isn’t work. It is, and it requires more creativity and planning than you’d think, but it is nourishing to a writer’s soul.