Y’all, it’s been a year. Again.
I’ve finished my grading and sent off the last of my work emails. My brain is a little lump of jell-o at the moment, but I wanted to leave you all with a thought about the end of year threads popping up again on twitter and elsewhere. Even if you’re not on twitter (good for you!) the desire to count up your accomplishments and account for yourself can be really strong this time of year. This newsletter, and the PANK column that preceded it, are kind of obsessed with these questions: what does productivity mean in writing? what’s the relationship between counting and having a rich writing life? what kinds of measurements can move us toward our big goals?
This year, here’s my take: let’s count it all.
I’m ending my year by counting up everything—the pieces I’ve published, the work I’ve put in, the pitches that didn’t go anywhere (and the ones that did!), the books I loved, the things I learned. It’s easy, especially as the year ends, and especially when you’re surrounded by evidence of other people’s accomplishment, to focus on what you haven’t done and where you’ve fallen short. So much of the end of year count can either be transparently self-promotional or self-flagellating. Instead, I’d suggest you take a minute and count everything you’ve done.
What’s brought you joy this year? What have you learned? What are you proud of?
This year, here are a few of my favorite things:
middle grade books I’ve read with my kids, especially The Wild Robot by Peter Brown and Pax by Sara Pennypacker (both recommended to me by amazing booksellers at two of my favorite independent bookstores, White Whale in Pittsburgh and Inkwood Books here in New Jersey)
teaching my college students online was mostly grueling, and I was thrilled to return to in-person (with a mask and vaccine mandate) teaching this fall. but I loved the teaching I got to do this year with adults, including a poetry manuscript workshop with Blue Stoop and a nonfiction forms workshop for Murphy Writing.
I wrote about making mom friends for Romper, and I wrote about poetry book contracts for The Millions. One thing I’ve learned this year is that so many of the things that seem hard and intimidating, from pitching to interviews, are actually really learnable.
A little note: through the end of the year, LSU’s entire catalog is 40% off. You can pre-order my new book, Pocket Universe—and while you’re there, take a look at their whole poetry catalog.
What’s on your list? What’s brought you joy this year? What hard things have you done?
Writing and talking about writing with you all has been one of the genuine joys of my year. I’ll see you in 2022.
I’d love to hear from you. You can always reply to this email, comment below, or find me on twitter (@nancy_reddy) and instagram (@nancy.o.reddy).