In the last edition of this newsletter, I wrote about anticipating the various ways 2024 will be difficult, so to balance things out I want to talk about hope.
The other day I had this thought: The Lucy Variations in 2013 might be the last time I publish a book into a world that wasn’t completely preoccupied with its own survival. Then I looked up 2013 and all the things that happened that year. Oh yeah. It was bad then, and it’s bad in some similar and different ways now.
If writing fiction sometimes feels dumb with so much going on, promoting a new book feels even dumber. Then I remember some things Flannery O’Connor said:
“I’m always highly irritated by people who imply that writing fiction is an escape from reality. It is a plunge into reality and it’s very shocking to the system.”
And another thing…
“People without hope not only don’t write novels, but what is more to the point, they don’t read them. They don’t take long looks at anything, because they lack the courage. The way to despair is to refuse to have any kind of experience, and the novel, of course, is a way to have experience.”
I’d love to talk to Flannery and have her say more about what she means by experience, but knowing her she’d stare at me through her thick glasses and tell me that if she could have said it any more clearly, she would have.
Here in 2024, I might say it like…it takes courage to enter into the experience of the other, or the enemy, or the pain and complication of others, or a story that may not turn out the way we wish or may scare us with its truth. But the refusal to try is a kind of despair, a giving up on the idea of common humanity or the reality of a shared fate.
Because I’m researching a book, I’ve mostly read nonfiction this year, but in movies I’ve loved The Holdovers, The Starling Girl, Minari, Marcel the Shell with Shoes On. Each of these movies does a beautiful job of showing humans (or shells) in their complicated glory and distress. These are stories about people trying to reach each other, trying to do better in their attempts to give and receive love, and that gives me hope.
Here’s where I plug Kyra, Just for Today. It’s out as of today and available for purchase (or maybe at your library) along with the paperback of A Song Called Home.
You can read the full jacket summary here, but I’ll focus on this:
“With sensitivity and candor, acclaimed author Sara Zarr tells a heartfelt, personal story about finding hope in even the most difficult places, and love in even the most complicated relationships.”
Yes, that’s marketing copy, but it’s an accurate description of what I aim for and what matters to me as a writer.
Not to sound like public radio during pledge week, but if you care about these kinds of stories too, and want to help ensure there’s still a place for them in the world, a purchase helps so much. I’ll put some buy links at the very bottom of this newsletter.
Revision and Hope
All stages of writing feel like acts of hope, but revision might be the most hopeful of them. Revising means you believe in the possibility of change and growth. Revising means you care enough about your story to work at it and push yourself past the limits of what you thought you could do.
I’d love it if you joined me for The Art of Revision with Image Intensives. This will be a hands-on, MFA-style workshop where we use your pages to talk about all the things that go into crafting a piece. All levels are welcome!
Other ways to work with me: the Lesley University Low-Residency MFA program (we are in the application-reading period!) or one-on-one.
Solidarity and Hope
Today is Super Tuesday, which would not have been my chosen publication date if I’d had a choice! In my mental preparations for 2024, I’ve pondered how after a chunk of years during which I’ve been very enraged about politics and ideologies, I’ve found that my anger has taken more than it’s given me. Righteous anger at injustice is good as a catalyst for taking positive action, until it turns into festering cynicism.
American democracy and pluralism are in actual jeopardy, and not being engaged is consequential. But so is how we engage. Ideological puritanism has gotten us nowhere, and I’m finding hope these days in moving on from that and looking for solidarity and good faith wherever I can find it.
Where are you finding solidarity? Where are you finding hope? I would love to know.
⭐️ “[Shows how] children pay the price of living in families where alcohol is abused. Authentic and heartbreaking, but hopeful.” - Kirkus, starred review
⭐️ A Junior Library Guild selection
(Available in hardcover, ebook, and audiobook.)
The King’s English or Weller Book Works (These are my local stores, and you can ask them to call me and have it signed or personalized for you!)
Your local indie bookseller, your local B&N, your favorite ebook app, Audible, Libro.fm, etc! Or ask for it at your public library.
The Inbox Variations is the monthly-ish newsletter of author Sara Zarr. Find out more about Sara and her books at www.sarazarr.com.
Elections come and go, but novels about people struggling to create a life of hope for themselves and others carry me through every season. Bless God for such folk as Flannery and Sara.
Committing to creativity gives me hope. So I thank my stars that this newsletter arrived at this moment on this day at when the very thing I didn’t know I needed presented itself. Signed up immediately for revision workshop. I’m now a Thing with Feathers.