Light in the Darkness and Beware of Literary Fits

So, the news lately has been discouraging, the world seems in turmoil, the coming holidays seem less cheerful, and the writing world seems crazy as usual. (Re: Ayelet Waldman – but I’ll get to that in a bit.) And the holidays can be a depressing season in the best of times (see: Charlie Brown Christmas special.)

You may have seen that I was encouraging donations to Ferguson’s library during the riots. Bad stuff was going on all around them, and their response was to stay open despite the danger to themselves and the library, to look after the kids, put on the teen programs, create a haven for those who were looking for shelter. And that is being a light in the darkness. To reach out and help when others are harming. That is something I aspire to do, though I rarely achieve it.

In personal/non-national-international news, I’ve been a little discouraged this holiday season. Could I say why, or if it’s something specific? No, I’ve been at this writing thing for a little over a decade, I have a fourth book coming out, and I’ve had many good things happen over the years, but still, I’m feeling tired of rejection and failure and trying hard only to be frustrated. My health is still a bit of a challenge (still being evaluated for MS with no real answers yet, ditto autoimmune stuff, and the usual winter bugs and minor injuries) but not as bad as it has been, so I should be counting my blessings. Which I swear, I have been trying to do (see my two previous blog posts for proof.)

I have to say I have to have a little sympathy Ayelet Waldman, a seemingly – from my perspective – very lucky writer (married to Michael Chabon, lives in Brooklyn the super-expensive epicenter of all things literary, books reviewed in the New York Times) – who had what can only be called a Twitter fit recently when she wasn’t listed in the NYT 100 Notable books list. Now, why would a writer who has been handed so much success be so upset by such a little thing that she would whine about it on Twitter? You may well ask (I mean, besides being a very entitled person, let’s just assume that, but the point is not to be mean, it’s to try to have empathy, right?) But here’s the thing – a writer, however successful, always feels like the next thing for them is being dangled just out of their grasp. I’m not saying we should take to an all-caps freakout on Twitter, of course – although it might make Twitter way more fun to read. That’s not being a light in the darkness. But I was a little amused when I read her tweets and thought to myself, there are times I’ve felt like saying those things, at least under my breath, in private. But she doesn’t seem to realize, when she tweets about pouring her heart and soul into her work and not getting her “due” recognition, that…Honey, we’re ALL pouring our hearts and souls into our work, we ALL feel we could use a little luck, a little recognition. That is the plight of ALL writers. I was happy for my friends who got NEA grants, sure, (I mean, who can be mad when folks like Ellen Bass, Major Jackson, Sandra Beasley and Mary Biddinger get good stuff? They’re nice! They’re deserving and good writers!) but was I also a little frustrated and discouraged (and pissed at all the wasted time that particular grant application takes) that my third (fourth?) consecutive try was rejected? Sure! I’m human! That stuff gets to me. Rejections get to me. Bad book sales get to me. I’m a writer who feels all the stupid small pangs, even when another part of me is thinking “Did they ever get back those kidnapped Nigerian schoolgirls?” (Answer: no, not most of them.)

There is injustice in the “real” world and in the smaller, more petty literary world. To ignore that fact would be perilous. But what can we really do? What can we do to make the world a little brighter, a little lighter, to make the cold less fierce and the long dark nights (starting at 3:30 PM here nowadays) less menacing for ourselves and for others? Can we call and encourage someone else, go volunteer or donate something to make someone else’s world safer, luckier, better? My husband has an app on his phone that simply shows a flickering candle, which some people think is a funny app to have, but I understand. I think, yes, that’s what we need, in this world, another candle, another flickering, unsteady flame.