It’s the holiday season—again—and first up is Thanksgiving. Does this hustle-bustle season mean we writers lay aside our writing? I hope not. Besides the need for some of us to spent time cooking, or traveling great distances to visit family and friends, as writers, in addition to carving turkey, we still need to carve out time to keep the pen moving across paper or the fingers clicking over keyboards. I urge us to give ourselves even ten minutes every day to focus on some piece of writing. No matter the calm or chaos surrounding us, keeping creative juices flowing is our life’s sustenance.
Given the holiday, our writing might mean scribbling a list of our thoughts about thankfulness. It may mean shaping an essay that’s rested in a drawer for years. It could mean jotting down ideas about people and places we experience over the turkey holiday weekend. Whatever we write, let’s work to make it real, not sappy or sentimental or overly sweet. We might even write about something we’re NOT thankful for.
What I’m not thankful for
For one thing, I’m not thankful for any trace of meanness I notice in myself or others. That doesn’t mean not being stern or firm when necessary. Expressing serious opposition to something or a strong opinion is a far cry from being mean. Meanness is cruel and often vindictive. It’s uncalled for, in my opinion, because surely, we can find other ways to express strong opinions without it. We can seek to express ourselves with thoughtfulness and clarity. Consider the following view on this topic. On the wall in my writing room is a bulletin board with a scrap of paper printed with a powerful quote by Andre Dubus, author of First Books. Part of the quote goes like this, “… for at the desk a writer must try to be free of prejudice, meanness of spirit, pettiness, and hatred; strive to be a better human being than the writer normally is …”
We may not live up to ideals like this every minute, but we can strive to. If and when that stuff Dubus warns us against shows up in our writing, we can carve it out easily enough with a knife called editing.
Make Thanks-giving, Write-giving
We can’t give what we haven’t got. Annie Dillard, in her book The Writing Life, ruminates on giving everything we do have when writing:
“One of the few things I know about writing is this: spend it all, shoot it, play it, lose it, all, right away, every time. Do not hoard what seems good for a later place in the book, or for another book; give it, give it all, give it now. The impulse to save something good for a better place later is the signal to spend it now. … Something more will arise for later, something better. These things fill from behind, from beneath, like well water.”
Writers Giving to Writers
One thing I admire about the Florida Writers Association is that members try hard to put its motto into practice: “Writers Helping Writers.” Creating blog posts like this are one way to do it. I’m honored to be a regular contributor to the FWA blog (since March 2018), and, if you are an FWA member, I encourage you to consider participating this way, too. Maybe you saw the recent post inviting more members to apply to do this. If it calls to you, go for it. It’s a rewarding volunteer job you can do right from your desk.
Happy Thanksgiving and happy writing!
Niki Kantzios
Thanks for your inspiring thoughts! I love your quote from Dubus. Surely putting ourselves in the heads of others (our characters) should make us better, more empathetic people.
Charlene Edge
Dubus inspired me all the way through writing my memoir, and now, every day at the desk. I love what you said about empathy. After all, isn’t storytelling–and reading–a way to put ourselves in another’s shoes?
Ken Pelham
Great advice!
That quote from Annie Dillard about not stashing away good ideas for later is a good ‘un. I’m guilty of that and I should trust that I’ll come up with something else for other parts of a story when the time comes.