It’s come to my attention that I chose a really bad title for this newsletter. Occasionally, people stop to say, “Hey, I really enjoyed what you wrote last week in,” — here, they pause and wince — “The Very Dark Forest? No. The Forest Darkly?” I appreciate the effort and always feel in those moments, like it’s probably time to rebrand. (The first rule of writing: misunderstanding is never the reader’s fault.)
Yet here we are — another year, another newsletter, another attempt by me to prove to you, that yes, I am still writing. Writing is a daily habit. It’s an act of discipline more than talent. Just like running, or exercise, or choosing water instead of soda; writing is a choice, each day, to put words onto a page rather than go take a nap or turn on Netflix or read a book. That’s it. That’s the job. It doesn’t matter what the title of the newsletter is; so long as I keep writing.
Last October, I joined three very talented friends on a writing retreat in Cape Charles, Virginia, where we spent four days together, writing and talking about writing. I was (and still am) revising my novel — and was getting caught up on some issues with character development. That’s when my brilliant friend Blair Hurley reminded me: “It works by accumulation.” What I think she meant is, you don’t have to jam every last detail about a character in a paragraph or two. First, show how they look — a smattering of gray hair, wearing chef’s whites, smiling while leaning against a brick wall. Later, show how they speak — “What are you an idiot?” A few scenes later, show how they react to bad news, or good news, or a set-back. Character development is like pointillism, countless minor impressions that slowly amount to an intricate picture.
Since then, Blair’s words have echoed in my head constantly. It works by accumulation. The more the words cross my mind, the more I realize they apply to everything.
Take parenting for example: I can’t tell my children to brush their teeth once and expect they will form healthy habits of hygiene for the rest of their lives. I want my children to feel safe and know they are loved: but that won’t happen after one heartfelt Danny Tanner-esque bedside conversation. It works by accumulation.
Take any new year’s resolution, any goal, any dream you might have and hope to one day accomplish. Take marriage! A marriage won’t work because you promise to love someone once, but because you choose to love them over and over again, day after day, until the days accumulate into years, the years into decades, and the decades into as long as you both shall live. There will be bad days — terrible weeks — long and challenging stretches of grief. It’s okay. It works by accumulation. The same is true of friendship. Trust takes time; you only lean on someone who has proven she can bear the extra weight.
I have appreciated putting these words into practice in my life, especially in my fiction. “It works by accumulation” is a consoling and comforting philosophy in a culture that glorifies instant results and overnight success.
To gain expertise, Malcom Gladwell argued for the 10,000 hour rule. For spiritual discipleship, Eugene Peterson encouraged a “Long obedience in the same direction”. The author Margaret Renkl espouses a writing practice of 15-minutes a day. The musician Marc Scibilia worked consistently, diligently in Nashville for many years before one video “suddenly” went viral. Now he’s selling out arenas. The writer Adam Ross released his critically acclaimed debut novel, Mr. Peanut, in 2010. This week — 15 years later — he’s releasing his sophomore novel, Playworld. The second book took time. (A lot of time.) He didn’t bow to the modern pressure to “move fast and break things,” but intentionally moved slow and built something undeniable. I begged for an Advanced Copy and tore through the 500+ page book in about four days. But don’t just take my word for it — the LA Times, Washington Post, and Wall Street Journal have all published rave reviews, too.
The slow work of accumulation doesn’t guarantee market success. But it does guarantee that the work of fiction, or marriage, or parenting, or anything will come with less hurry and less anxiety. And isn’t that a relief?
In 2025, that’s my hope: to trust God and the slow process of accumulation. The rest is out of my hands.
Recent Favorites
Read: Playworld, by Adam Ross. You might get sick of me talking about this book, but that’s okay. It’s been a while since I’ve read a book that I loved as much as I loved this. It follows a 14-year old kid, Griffin Hurt, through a year in his life in 1980s Manhattan, where he works as a child actor, surrounded by adults who constantly make demands on his time, emotion, and body. Shot through with loneliness, this novel stirred so much compassion in my heart for teenaged boys. As a mother of boys, I am so glad I read it.
Watch: Shrinking Season 2 (Apple+) This sweet show just keeps getting better. Season One sometimes veered into slapstick- and potty-humor, but in Season Two, the writers really seem to have hit their stride. I love the ensemble cast, the great storylines that have developed for each character, and the overall tone of the show — simultaneously funny, uplifting, and heartfelt. It’s like if Ted Lasso met Lori Gottleib’s book “Maybe You Should Talk to Someone.”
One More Thing…
In December, a select group of readers joined along for my “A is for Advent” series. In the month of December, I gave myself a challenge of writing 26 short reflections about the coming of Christ, using the alphabet as my prompt. I wrote 24, only to realize it was going to be impossible to write on Christmas Day and the 26th, which were meant to be “Y is for Yearning” and “Z is for Zion.” In any case, thank you so much for those who supported that work, and for participating in that experiment. I hope to bring it back again next year, maybe even in the form of an e-book. (Stay tuned!)
And… I am leading a writing workshop this spring for a group of 6 to 8 writers who need guidance, accountability, and/or feedback on a work in progress. Is that you? If so, shoot me a message about what you’re working on! More on this in the weeks ahead. Happy New Year!
Oh, my friend. I needed this. Thank you!
You accumulated completely for me with first visit. 😆