So maybe 5th time is a charm, and I’ll be able to actually utilize the words I have been using since I first took pencil to ruled notebook page many decades ago. I’ve been trying to write this essay for several days and nothing seems to come out right. Words are clunky, thoughts are half formed and my mind is scattered and distracted. I guess the reality is that most of us average joes, (and aren’t we all just average joes, really?) are struggling with the fact that this moment in time is unprecedented. My questions are: how do I meet this moment creatively, compassionately and courageously and how do I continue to write my stories in a world that is crumbling? Crystals? Prayer? Rosary beads? Cold plunges? More fiber?

All of the above?

I listened to an extraordinary podcast the other day when I was traveling for work. I put on Rich Roll, who is one of my go to podcasters when I want to do a topic deep dive. His guest that day was Anand Gridharadas, journalist, bestselling author and all-around smart dude.

The upshot is that I was treated to two hours of some of the best conversation I’ve heard on how the dehumanization of certain groups of people permeate every part of our culture. Two points were made that struck a chord with me:

1. The dude four doors down with the offensive bumper sticker isn’t really your enemy, it’s the people manipulating us into hating and dehumanizing one another.
2.  There is nothing more American than allowing Americans be who they are.

Now I’ll get to the point of this rambling essay. My apologies for the long preamble, but there’s a reason I mentioned the podcast, I promise. Anand is first and foremost a writer. He talks about how he let this moment in history swallow him in outrage and it impacted his writing and his career trajectory. He had strayed from what he felt his purpose for writing was—to tell the human story in whatever news story he was writing about.
This got me to thinking about my own writing and the stories I want to tell. What do I love to write about? What am I actually good at? And will my writing make any sort of impact at all in this moment in history?

When there is so much pressure in the indie world of writing to write what sells and write it yesterday, I long to tell stories about complex women in complex moments in history. If those stories are scary, so be it. If those stories are poignant, a little bizarre or even include a little magic or spying or murder, so be it.

I also love to write essays about my own experiences and how my own joys, heartbreaks, successes and failures connect to the larger web of humanity. So I’m going to do that too.

How do I do this when the outside world is so incredibly tumultuous and stupid? I guess by reaching in and ripping out one word at a time, seeing my own challenges as a part of something larger—the difficulty that all writers have at times to express themselves creatively in a world gone completely crazy. Maybe by alchemizing that crazy into something true and beautiful.

Join me, won’t you?