And by the way I wanted to point out that Kindred is not science fiction. You'll note there's no science in it. It's a kind of grim fantasy.
I found that it wasn't so oddball to like music and poetry and visual arts they're kindred spirits.
Happiness is a sunbeam which may pass through a thousand bosoms without losing a particle of its original ray nay when it strikes on a kindred heart like the converged light on a mirror it reflects itself with redoubled brightness. It is not perfected till it is shared.
It's part of a writer's profession as it's part of a spy's profession to prey on the community to which he's attached to take away information - often in secret - and to translate that into intelligence for his masters whether it's his readership or his spy masters. And I think that both professions are perhaps rather lonely.