Some mornings I wake to the world on fire, and the last thing I want is to read a novel.
Some mornings I wake to the world on fire, and ALL I want is to read a novel.

Hello, my friends~
Whenever events become particularly ugly outside our doors, the question arises: How can we talk about books when the world is a dumpster fire? Further implications weigh the question down, however it’s phrased, whether you ask it of yourself or you’re confronted by someone else:
· You’re wasting your time.
· Books/reading/writing aren’t important.
· You should engage in something useful—protesting, writing elected officials, convincing people to vote—to “fix” whatever went wrong in the world that day.
I encounter writers who apologize before they mention their new book release. Reluctant to share their gorgeous new cover art on social media. Scared that they are spending too much time promoting themselves when there are “more important things going on,” and that readers will hold it against them. And it breaks my heart, because these are writers who work endlessly at their craft, who have struggled for years to acquire whatever level of success they have, and who understand they need to keep their name and their titles in front of people somehow to continue to sell books. They’re talking about their dream—something that should fill them with joy—in terms that make them sound almost ashamed.
Here's the truth: The world has always been on fire.
Sometimes it’s a bunch of little brush fires, and sometimes it’s an enormous conflagration. But there’s always a war or two, some famine, a few dictators, civil rights getting trampled, tragedy and heartbreak, because this is what humanity does. Read your history books. The difference now is the 24/7 news cycle and the wonders of the internet deliver all those flames directly into your living room. We watch the world burn daily, live and in color. But we cannot let it stop us from living our lives.

If you love to read, if you love to write, those are the parts of your life we’re fighting to protect. And yes, there are many fronts on which to fight, but it’s no good winning those fights if we have no art or beauty surviving on the other side. On the days I wake up yearning to read a new book, there need to be new books for me to read—and I want a way to learn about them, ways to discover something to fit my mood.
How can we talk about books when the world is burning? We can because we must.
There’s no one right way to self-promote in times of elevated strife. Set yourself a loose set of rules and be careful about your wording. Be prepared to pull social posts for a day in case of horrific events, but otherwise be considerate and keep going. Balance promotion with outward engagement. Boost other voices—it can be easier to promote others than oneself, and it all comes back around. If possible, note what about a work feels timely or appropriate in the moment: political or social relevance, or simply a wonderful break from the high-stress expectations of the real world.
Read and write as a form of protest.
Talk about books that help inform about whatever events you’re concerned with: immigration, climate, fascism, equality, constitutional law, etc. Boost authors who are facing censorship and book bans. If your local school bans something you haven’t read, get your hands on a copy and read it, then donate it to your library, or a little free library, so others can access it too.
Balance your activism with your creativity.
Don’t weave them inextricably 24/7. No one can function in a world that is all stress, all the time. Instead, find a way to insert it here and there. Actions you take on your own, action where you contribute to a group, action through your art—pick one or rotate through, but allocate set hours or a day of the week for activism and keep the rest of your time for your own creative efforts. Figure out what percentages work best for you. And let that change based on how you feel, and the temperature out in the world.

Funnel your emotions onto the page.
Feeling angry? Heartbroken? Frustrated? Use it. You can read and write to escape what is happening out there, but you can also read and write to make sense of it, to determine what you think and where you stand, and to share how you feel and think. Consider all the writers whose words help us better understand major world events, either during or after: Anne Frank, James Baldwin, Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn. Confront the situation on paper, not just with marches and phone calls and donations. Those latter actions are still important, but words are powerful. Words can persuade. Clarify. Use your words.
Free speech is always in danger.
Journalism is under attack. Truth is under attack. Books are under attack. Authors are under attack. And it’s not all political. The humanities are undervalued. Liberal arts majors disappear from universities with every budget cut. A.I. is coming for your writing-related job. So, talk about your books. Discuss what makes them unique and special and human. Recommend your latest great read. Speak the truth into existence. Fact-check diligently so you aren’t part of the problem. Fight the war on the battle ground, but maintain the creative life and world you’re fighting to save in the first place.

And when burnout comes for you, as it will, walk away from the streams and the feeds and the flames, and remember that art provides respite, too. Take the breaks you need.
Stop apologizing for wanting people to read your hard work, for wanting to sell books, for wanting to keep your dream alive. Strife and success can coexist. Let yourself be joyful and share that feeling, allow it to spill over. The world needs your joy.
Thanks, as always, for joining me here and reading. I’d love to hear what you’re doing to keep your writing/reading momentum alive in these difficult times, so feel free to comment. In the meantime, wishing you a good week and I will see you in the next one. 🥰 Happy writing!
I really needed this today — not only for the outer world being on fire, but for the heartbreak in my own home. It may seem like nothing compared to everything else (interesting how that phrase spilled out of me automatically even though I just read your post on how we shouldn’t be ashamed of our own lives!) but one of my cats has just been diagnosed with asthma and heart disease. We spent a whole week bleeding money to get him stable and figure out what was going on and now the treatment options are sparse and difficult. There’s a great weight over my house. We are going to lose him, probably sooner than all his older cat siblings, and it feels almost impossible to sit down and write. How can I when there are endless things to do to care for him? I feel like I should be dusting the house 24/7. And that’s just one creature among billions who are suffering, one awful thing among thousands of other awful things. And yet last night my partner gently reminded me that the most compassionate thing I can do for anyone in our home is to write. Because everything else inevitably follows with more ease.
Thanks for sharing this. 🤍
Exactly the post I needed to read today. Been having the toughest time talking about my books while the world is on fire! And I also need the reminder to stop doomscrolling and escape into a good read for a bit.