Louise Penny explains the perfect reason writers write (and 4 other thoughts)
Writing wisdom from Vonnegut and Miles Davis, Louise Penny on why she writes, re-watching The West Wing, and the unluckiest man in the Bible
Happy Friday! I compiled a few takeaways from January. The days aren’t quite as cold now in February, and if you’re like me, you’re just begging for spring to get here quickly. Looking at our backyard I’m already feeling the itch to mow the grass. Wild onions everywhere!
The Overlooked Reason Writers Write
I listened to an interview with mystery author Louise Penny in which she details life as a writer and the inspiring kinship she has with her fans. But this quote is what struck me.
“The writing became a harbor. It became solace. It became a world I could control.”
Penny’s husband was diagnosed with dementia in 2013 and passed away in 2016. She was his primary caregiver. When she referred to her writing as a place of harbor and solace, it made sense. But calling her writing “a world I could control” floored me.
That’s exactly what it is. When you’re writing, you choose what happens. You create the world. You shape it, mold it, make it bloom, and destroy it. You control it.
Because we have no control over anything, the chance to control one thing is indeed a place of solace.
For Justus, All Bets Are Off
My ambitious goal of reading through the entire Bible in one year is going well so far. But I’m reading larger chunks each day and journaling on them less, so it’s challenging in that I don’t know if I’m taking away as much as I used to.
Still, passages like this from Acts 1 make me pause.
So they nominated two men: Joseph called Barsabbas (also known as Justus) and Matthias. Then they all prayed, “O Lord, you know every heart. Show us which of these men you have chosen as an apostle to replace Judas in this ministry, for he has deserted us and gone where he belongs.” Then they cast lots, and Matthias was selected to become an apostle with the other eleven. (Acts 1:23-26, NLT)
The Bible doesn’t give us much on this Joseph/Barsabbas/Justus fellow. This loser is limited largely to this passage. I had to re-read these verses a few times to understand. He lost out on a place of eternal honor because the casting of lots didn’t go his way?
It feels unnatural. It feels unfair. It feels a whole lot like life.
While some scholars think he might be Barnabas or someone else later in scripture, all we know for sure is he was the odd man out. He was left off the team.
It made me think of a scene in Friday Night Lights. That just happens to be the only book I finished in January (yes, I am already drafting my “I failed my Goodreads challenge again” post for January 2025).
In this scene, three coaches from three teams are meeting at an undisclosed location. The purpose: to determine which two of the three teams would play in the Texas high school playoffs.
Permian and Midland Lee flipped heads. Midland High flipped tails. Midland High missed out on the playoffs.
It’s somewhat funny that a guy is left out of being one of Jesus’ 12 disciples because he lost a coin flip. Or a casting of lots. Or a brutal best two-of-three in paper, rock, scissors.
It makes me wonder: if the day ends and I’ve received no accolades or trophies or invitations to a special group, will I still serve my Lord with my whole heart?
Find the Silences
Another book I began in January is Cody Keenan’s Grace: President Obama and Ten Days in the Battle for America. Keenan was a speechwriter for Obama during his presidency. His book focuses on ten key dates in the administration.
It’s a wonderful read if you’re into the craft of speechwriting. Keenan talks about at one point Obama nudging him to not try and make every sentence in the State of the Union speech a 10. He told him to do like jazz legend Miles Davis did and “find the silences.”
There’s wisdom in writing in a way that flows and keeps the reader engaged. Switching sentence lengths, upending usual metaphors, or injecting humor at unexpected moments.
Writing Wisdom from Vonnegut
Solid tip from Kurt Vonnegut:
“When I used to teach creative writing, I would tell the students to make their characters want something right away- even if it’s only a glass of water.”
Makes sense for any fiction writer. In the process of editing my book, I’ve realized my pacing is off because I’m not driving the story along based on what the characters want.
But I also think this advice works for non-fiction work (including content marketing). Positioning your writing based on what the reader wants from it can bring clarity and sharpen your focus.
Comfort Food For When You Hate American Politics
I have a few different text threads on my phone where I banter with friends about politics. Our views differ on some things, but we all agree that American politics has seen better days.
To escape all the noise of election season and each side telling us how terrible the opposing side is rather than giving us ideas filled with hope and substance, I’m binging The West Wing. Again.
It’s the fourth time I’ve watched the show all the way through. Why? Because it’s brimming with hope and bipartisanship. It’s funny, it has likable characters, and paints a picture of government that, while still fractured, shows men and women in power can work together for the greater good.
In season 1, the bipartisanship of President Jed Bartlett’s administration is showcased when a blond female Republican obliterates a male Democrat speechwriter on TV.
After this interaction, the mood from some among the fictional White House staff is to rib Sam Seaborn (of course) but to brush it off as an annoying Republican landing a few quips attacking the administration on education reform.
But the (fictional) president goes on to hire Ainsley Hayes, acknowledging that while she might play for the other side, she’s smart and can help them.
The show might be 20 years old now, but stories like this give me hope that one day our elected leaders can look past party loyalty and genuinely work with those who bring different opinions to the table. It’s a concept that made our nation great.
Foolish of me to hope we can have that again. If not this election, perhaps the next.