A terrible thing

I'm not going to talk about it

Dear Writer,

Well…. fuck.

A terrible thing has happened this week.

I’m not going to talk about it, because it is what it is, and talking about what it is doesn’t change anything.

Also, there are lots of people talking about it who know more than me, so I don’t plan on adding my dumb voice to the cacophony of unqualified people screaming into the void this week, analyzing what has happened as though there is any real sense to be made of it.

But like I said… I’m not here to talk about that.

I’m here to talk about us.

I’m here to talk about writers.

As with most things, we have a choice. We can give in to fear, and panic, and catastrophizing, but the fact is… we don’t know what’s going to happen, and whenever we imagine a dark scenario, we experience it as though it has happened. We feel the stress and panic of it happening, as if it has actually happened, because imagination is powerful, and it doesn’t have an interest in distinguishing reality from fantasy. 

When we do indulge in this dark fantasy of the future and live it as though it’s our current reality, we diminish our strength and reserves to deal with what actually happens, when it actually happens.

But for all the things I don’t know and don’t understand, of which there are many, let me tell you what I do know:

Now is when readers need you most.

When times are dark, people need stories. They need meaning. And in the same way you experience catastrophe when you imagine it, they will experience what you create for them.

When things are scary, they can escape into your world and live in it for a while, and get what they need from that world.

That doesn’t mean they only need writers of fluff and distraction, of which I am proudly one. They need all stories, every story. They need fluff and distraction, and they need to read about horror and darkness. Those stories almost always end with the end of that horror and darkness, and that is something many people will need to be able to envision in the coming years.

The Lord of the Rings was written during World War II and the years leading up to it.

It was how JRR Tolkien processed his feelings about World War I, which he fought in, and the new war, so soon afterward, in which his son went to fight. For many of the days Tolkien was working on those books, he did not know if his son was still alive.¹

Tolkien was a linguist; he just wanted to study language, and teach it, and not live a life constantly under threat from evil men doing terrible things for stupid, selfish reasons.

Instead of falling to despair, though, Tolkien wrote, and what he wrote has touched and inspired millions of people. That story is still powerful to this day, because it touches on the realities of the darkness of the human soul, which has sadly retained its hold on many of us. For our anniversary, my husband and I curled up and watched the entire trilogy, and were both amazed at how apt an allegory it is for the massive ball of fuckwittery that is humanity today, some 80 years later

And look… your story may not be The Lord of the Rings.

Very few are.

But that doesn’t mean it’s not important.

Your story will probably not be made into Oscar winning movies. You may never walk a red carpet, or make a boatload of cash, or touch the hearts of millions.

If any of that happens to you, that’s a lottery ticket coming in, and that’s great.

But all that is not your story’s job, and you need to be sure to never let any amount of money or success or accolades occlude your clarity on this.

Your story’s job is to be the one story that one reader needs, at the time they need it.

Maybe your story isn’t an allegory for the darkness and hope of humanity. Maybe it’s funny. Maybe it’s intriguing. Maybe it’s romantic, or sexy, or dark.

These are all things the human soul needs, and if your story reaches just one human soul, and gives that one soul exactly the story they needed at exactly the moment they needed it, then you have succeeded beyond all reasonable measure.

The world always needs storytellers, but they need them more in times of darkness than at any other time.

You are the army of creatives this world needs right now, and your job is just to keep going.

Not to keep going without pause. If you need pause, by all means, take a pause. I am.

But after that, you get up.

You keep going.

You keep writing.

You keep creating.

Because creativity is how the human soul sings.

And right now, more than ever, we must not stop singing.

Everything,

L

1. Just so you don’t fret, Christopher Tolkien survived the war, and lived a long life.