2024 year ended rather abruptly for me when I drove to the airport at 6 a.m. the Monday after Christmas to drop off our last house guests, my son, Davis, and his wife, Kyra. He was traveling back to Portland, Kyra was making a stop in Salt Lake. My heart fell, as it always does during this task in the dark times of year.
The sweet vibrations of our two-year-old granddaughter, Nora, echoed in my head. “What’re you doin’, Netti?” What, indeed.
During her weeklong stay, she’d inhabited all our spaces, as two-year-olds are inclined to do, but mostly, hugged our hearts and entrenched herself in the kitchen like the rest of the guests. The question of “what I’m doing?” (I hear in her voice) struck me after I circled past the Departures carousel. By that time, a small drop of sunlight bounced around the dawn. That little spark of gold carried me home, back to my soul space, my writing desk, relit my fire that had sizzled down to embers during the past month.
If I’ve been absent online, in impromptu gatherings, or quiet in email and texting replies, I’ve been present in my actual writing. Library books stacked high are primarily reference books for work (800 pages about Italy’s three mafias, cookbooks on foods from the New World like corn and chocolate, or agate hunting on the Oregon Coast).
And any fiction books attempted to digest left me with an attention-deficit ache.
Maggie Smith, the poet, writes: “You want a door that you can be on both sides of at once.” Of course, writers desire this. One side that requires the socialization aspect, the people who pick you up, who disrupt your day with a funny meme, or haul you to the finish line. The other requires utmost discipline to complete a work, start an anew. I’ve been in the latter and relishing in that deep time to soften into my own words.
As media outlets push us to evaluate, and we ourselves trend toward as well, the notion of a New Year gives us time to check back, check in, check forward. The Washington Post offered an exercise to determine your “nudge” word of the year.
I like the term nudge. Kind of like a pinch to the cheeks to pink up the coloring in one’s face, or my mother elbowing Dad whenever he snoozed in the church pews. Nudge originated from a variety of settings: Norwegian from nugge, meaning to push or rub. Old English from cnucian, meaning to knock, Yiddish from nudyen, meaning “to bore.” (I’m okay with this one too). It also refers to a theory developed and promoted by Richard Thaler and Cass Sunstein in 2008. “The theory is based on the idea that people can be gently encouraged to make better decisions by using small, practical stimuli, or "nudges". Also, I’m in love with the elephant book cover, as it dovetails into my next point.
So, what one word can I tell myself, as a reminder of goals for each day, as a writer and as a person?
My word was “evolution,” which I found oddly accurate and comforting.
Following my trip to East Africa, I grappled with a number of sentiments around being human: First, that humans are actually the caged animals—by our thoughts, our rules, our limited capacity to understand, while the wild animals roam free, moving according to intuition unspoken to us. Second, we are mere specks on this earth, our time short, and one might also say our impact is too. Third, the African ancestors and wild animals that roamed during ancient times there were truly the firsts upon the earth. And finally, upon hearing the voices of a choir in rural Tanzania, I was struck at how their tones were not angelic in any way, but much deeper, a reflection of something below the pews and tile floors of the church. I called it the voice of the land.
Amazing now, how I can articulate so many sentiments that I didn’t have words for early on.
Evolution.
Upon my return home, I struggled to maintain relationships, my writing fell into a sort of malaise too (though I wrote 30 journal entries about Africa, I couldn’t weave their disparity together). Something inside of me needed to break open. This I believed, was, in some part, the ego. A need to control my output, in whatever form that took socially, professionally, emotionally.
Part of this downfall I attributed to the acceptance of my latest manuscript with a publisher back in early spring. Eventually, after months of wondering, I severed ties, due to the lack of initiative on behalf of the editor. If I needed to wait, I wanted to be on my time and with the end product a result of my creative intent and vision, and not that of a publisher.
I exchanged that prestige for the chance to honor myself.
Evolution.
And now, I’ve given myself permission to say, the manuscript has only improved since. I await corrections from an editor, due early February. With next steps involving design and publication work to be determined and announced.
One of my mentors at Women Writing for (a) Change recently asked, how I might become involved again in the new year. For years, I’ve partnered with a number of creative writers, educators, and outlets. Last year’s travels, the discomfort that settled in me after, kept me awash in my own backwater. You’ll see me swimming in fresh water this year, out in a wider variety of settings. Partnering, not always in the writing field, but writing adjacent.
My husband once said “you write best about loss.” I used to agree, believe it myself. As I review what has transpired in my life, it’s evident my writing examines what serves me or how my words can serve someone else. That’s the highest achievement we can attain, the best of ourselves we can give.
Evolution.
When all else fails as a freelance journalist or creative nonfiction writer, I will finally pursue another novel attempt. Many failed ones must lie in the drawer to achieve this. I’ve checked off that box.
Years ago, Mark and I traveled to Oregon on a wine tasting trip. We visited Argyle Winery, known then and now for its sparkling wines. As we toured the tank room, Mark noticed a six-pack of Miller Lite in the corner of the dank room and asked the winemaker about its presence. The winemaker’s eyes sparkled to match his precious liquid, as he said, “It takes a lot of cheap beer to make a good sparkling wine.”
Writing is like that too.
Evolution.
Here’s to your evolution and mine and ours together—no matter the form.
Up and coming:
Feb. 5 - Caring for the Caregiver writing experience, Alois Alzheimer Center. 1 – 3 p.m. Email: amjwick@gmail.com for details.
Feb 12 - I will be introducing and leading a Q&A for As If You Will Remember is “an interdisciplinary artistic response to dementia’s multi-faceted and increasingly prevalent sorrows,” developed in part by my colleague, Pauletta Hansel. Fundraiser for Giving Voice Foundation. More information coming soon.
Feb 25 - Caring for the Caregiver writing experience with Pauletta Hansel and Annette Januzzi Wick. Giving Voice Foundation. Virtual. Free. Continues with three other sessions. Sign up here. 10 - noon.
March 12 – Lloyd Library. My husband and I are pleased to support the Lloyd Library as they present this program on breast cancer in conjunction with two renowned physicians, Jen Manders, breast cancer surgeon, and Julie Specht, a breast cancer oncologist, from The Christ Hospital. Visit link for details coming soon.
April 1 – National Italian American Foundation, Ambassador magazine: NIAF on Location: Cincinnati. Visit: https://www.niaf.org/. Details coming soon.
April 1 – Edible Ohio Valley newsstands – The Charms of Cornmeal, Profile: Reka Butchery and Delicatessen. www.edibleohiovalley.com. Link coming soon.
April 16 – Caring for the Caregiver writing experience, Alois Alzheimer Center. 1 – 3 p.m. Email: amjwick@gmail.com for details.
April 19 – Contemporary Arts Center Creative Writing Project. Runs 8 weeks. Sign up now!
May 10 – Climate Writing Workshop. My colleague Elaine Olund leads this climate writing workshop as part of Studio Kroner - All Else Pales - 2.
May 13 – Caring for the Caregiver writing experience. Giving Voice Foundation with Pauletta Hansel and Annette Januzzi Wick. In-person. Free. Continues with three other sessions. Sign up here.
August 12 – Caring for the Caregiver writing experience. Giving Voice Foundation with Pauletta Hansel and Annette Januzzi Wick. Virtual. Free. Continues with three other sessions. Sign up here.
November 14 – Caring for the Caregiver writing experience. Giving Voice Foundation with Pauletta Hansel and Annette Januzzi Wick. In-person. Free. Continues with three other sessions. Sign up here.
I loved, loved, loved this one—complex, multi-faceted, wise, true. There were so many ways I related: my 5-yr-old granddaughter 4,000 miles away; my confusing, sometimes contradictory feelings and embryonic writing about my time in rural Tanzania; the writing/beer in dank corners of my mind.
I really love reading this inspiration right now! I've been feeling like I was becoming a little stagnant. Time to evolve and move onward!!