✦ Community
The Furies
A creative collective for humans who write, or who aren’t writing but wish they were.
✦ Community
A creative collective for humans who write, or who aren’t writing but wish they were.
If you’ve ever looked at what you were writing and thought — why can’t I see myself in these words? — you’re in the right place.
I’m Maggie Langrick, founder of Wonderwell, a Wayfinder life coach specializing in creative recovery, and the author of Writing From Your Essential Self, coming from Shambhala Publications in June 2027.
I want you to know that your most powerful writing — and your most gratifying life — are closer to you than you think. You don’t get there by clever calculation but by living and writing from your inner truth. Out in the world, even in some corners of the literary community, we are not taught to trust that deeper truth. So I created the Furies as a mutual-aid society dedicated equally to personal growth and creative liberation.
We are here to wake ourselves up and walk each other home.
The Furies is a creativity collective. We gather, we do the inner work that fuels our best writing. We take regular, meaningful steps toward the writing we have always wanted to do, in a space that is safe, nonjudgmental, and alive with the pleasure of creating together. Online workshops and in-person events are announced to members first. Inspiration comes by email to support you in between. And right now, it’s free to join.
Here’s what I believe, and what this collective is built on: writing is not primarily an intellectual activity. It is an instrument of the soul. Through it, we come to know our essential self — the self that exists before the social conditioning, before the wounding, before the limiting beliefs we adopted just to survive. Writing is how that self makes its nature known to us. It is a treasure map of your inner landscape. A path to your divine assignment. A mind-meld with other human beings across space and time.
You don’t need to have a project on the go to join The Furies. You don’t even need to think of yourself as a writer.
Each of us was born a free being, creative by nature and spiritually awake. Culture — conformity, the pressure to be palatable and sensible and small — tries to separate us from that essential self. We feel it in the writing we abandon, the stories we decide are too weird or too personal or too uncommercial to bother with. We feel it in the cultural moment we’re living through right now, where the forces that want humans quiet and compliant are having a very loud few years.
Many of us are feeling numb, disoriented, doing our best to keep our heads up and our hearts open while everything moves too fast and costs too much. In that state, we abandon the very thing that might save us: our creativity. Writing will anchor you in your own sanity, your courage, your worthiness — in the face of whatever is coming.
The antidote isn’t giving in to grief or rage, though grief and rage can fuel beautiful works of art. The antidote is conscious community centered on joy.
Joy is our most potent magic elixir. It’s the satisfying joy of writing the honest thing rather than the safe thing. The restorative joy of slipping out of the shackles of inhibition and insecurity. The nourishing joy of feeling held by people who really get you. The expansive joy of being surprised by your own growing capabilities.
Whether your writing is personal, political, practical, or poetic — your voice is needed. Creativity and genuine human connection are the best antidotes to powerlessness we know of. Sanctuary, especially these days, is not a luxury.
This is the joy we protect together, fiercely and warmly.
If you read this page and feel a gentle pull to be part of this group, that feeling is your sign. The Furies is an expressly inclusive space. Anti-racist, LGBTQ-inclusive, neurodivergent-friendly. You are not an asterisk here. You are the point.
If you think you might want to belong here, you already do.
So here’s a funny thing about the name. I didn’t actually choose it — it came to me one morning last summer as I was waking up from a dream. “Create a group. Call it The Furies,” said the voice in my head. I didn’t even know what the Furies were, so I looked it up.
Turns out, I had summoned something real. Or maybe it summoned me.
In Roman mythology, the Furies — the Erinyes — were the goddesses of righteous reclamation, which is to say they showed up when something sacred had been violated. They weren’t vengeful, exactly. They were just unwilling to let an injustice go unaddressed. They answered to no one. They were ungovernable in the best possible sense — ferociously, righteously free.
They are also, as it happens, the oldest myth we have of women refusing to be silent about what matters.
When I read that, I felt it in my whole body. Because that’s her, isn’t it? That’s us — feelers and healers and defenders of all things sensitive and beautiful and tender. The one who longs to live, and write, with her social mask off. That’s who I made this for. That’s who we are.
Once a year, The Furies come together to write in an inspiring space. In May and June of 2026, a small group of us spent two weeks coliving in a 16th-century house in the heart of Arles, in the south of France. And I mean coliving — not a hotel, not a retreat center where everyone scatters after a lecture is over. We cooked together in a shared kitchen. We took our morning coffee to the rooftop in our pajamas. We wandered the old town and explored Roman ruins. We ate too much cheese, and laughed late into the night. And in between all of that, we wrote.
It wasn’t a boot camp, but a lightly guided adventure. There was morning meditation, writing labs a couple of times a week, reading circles, one-on-one coaching sessions. But mostly there was freedom — unstructured time for each writer to work at their own pace, explore Provence, sleep, think, wander.
The magic is in the mix — the living-together part is inseparable from the writing part. When you’ve shared meals with someone, when you’ve hugged each other good morning at 7am before anyone’s put their face on, you relax into a different kind of honesty. And that honesty goes straight into the work.
This is community. Independence and companionship in the same breath. Everyone doing their own thing while holding each other.
We’re not ready to announce dates yet. But we’re already collecting names. Members hear first, pay less, and get dibs on the first spots to open up. If you want this experience, raise your hand.
Join the Residency Waitlist →
The Furies is free to join. When popup sessions are announced, members hear first. When the residency waitlist opens, members get first dibs. You’ve been alone long enough with your creative life. We aren’t complete without you. Will you join us?