Final Version of the Postcard

Every culture tells stories. We keep our history alive this way. We all have rituals, whether they are secular or deeply religious. When you’re worldbuilding, you can communicate a plethora of culture and history through the traditions and festivals your characters observe.

Coming up on December 10th, I’ll teach Christmas in Narnia: Creating Traditions for Fictional Cultures for the Rambo Academy for Wayward Writers. Pardon the frosty pun, but a fictional holiday is an excellent tip to the iceberg of your world’s history. Consider the wealth of similarities and differences of the festivals of lights that originate from the Northern Hemisphere of our planet alone:

During the season of autumn into midwinter, things get darker and colder in most of the NH. The further north you go, the more stark that dark and cold becomes. Many traditions originating in the Northern Hemisphere have celebrations and rituals revolving around light and warmth at this time. India and its diaspora bring us Diwali and Deepavali, two different but similar multi-day festivals of lights, color, and life. Judaism celebrates Hanukkah as the observance of a historical miracle”“eight nights of light produced from barely any fuel oil. A fun side note: we eat fried foods like latkes and donuts on Hanukkah to represent the bounty of the oil! Who wouldn’t love a holiday that prescribes feasting on greasy carbs?

On Christmas, people celebrate the birth of the Christ child, destined to bring light, love, and goodness into a harsh world. As Christianity spread through Europe, this tradition appropriated, fused with, and replaced several midwinter traditions, such as the birth of God of the Wood on the winter solstice. This nature-based deity literally brings the light and warmth back into the world as the days finally grow longer instead of shorter. In addition to a festival of eating and drinking (lots of drinking), popular Christmas tradition involves putting candles and electric lights on everything, particularly an evergreen tree. That tradition did not come from Nazareth.

Notice that these traditions change over time and will even be different in each family or community. Just as no ethnic group is a monolith, neither is any religious or secular culture. There’s so much room here for worldbuilding, not to mention internal as well as external conflict. Some progressive Jewish families have introduced an orange among the symbolic food (roasted egg, lamb bone, bitter herb, et al.) of the Passover Seder plate, meant to remind us of the struggle of women, lgbtq+ folks, and people of color in Judaism as well as all who face intersectional struggles and are often left out of the popular image of the Jewish community.

I have a Jewish mother and an essentially Unitarian father. I grew up with secular Christmas as well as a heritage-rich Hanukkah, but I’ve always gravitated toward Pagan traditions. As a kid, I was particularly smitten with the Egyptian and Greco-Roman pantheons and stories, and I assume this is because I grew up in Miami, Florida. Flowers, fruit, and flowing water made more spiritual sense to me than the scarcity theme prevalent in Abrahamic traditions. This is the sort of subtlety that can communicate the history of a culture; temperate or tropical traditions are more likely to celebrate abundance and indulgence. Desert cultures are more likely to emphasize struggle, scarcity, and abstinence, but also patience and most importantly, charity. It’s no coincidence that Islam, Judaism, and Christianity share these values and emerged from cultures living under harsh political and geographical conditions.

This brings us to another important subtlety of cultural norms. How hot is “hot?” How cold is “cold?” For that matter, how far is “far?” Does “nice” mean polite and friendly, or does it mean kind and empathic? These are the questions that shape so many nuances of a community and its culture, whether macro scale or micro. And don’t overlook the secular traditions”“what does Tax Day tell us about capitalist cultures? What about the Queen’s Jubilee? For that matter, what about Juneteenth?

For more on this, please join me for Christmas in Narnia: Creating Traditions for Fictional Cultures on December 10th. Happy holidays!

Bio:

Evan J. Peterson is an author, game writer, and Clarion West alum. His latest book is METAFLESH: Poems in the Voices of the Monster (ARUS Entertainment), and recent work includes Drag Star! (Choice of Games), the world’s first drag performance RPG. His writing appears in Weird Tales, Arcana: The Tarot Poetry Anthology, and Queers Destroy Horror. Evan’s serial novel, Better Living Through Alchemy, will be published in 2023 by Broken Eye Books. linktr.ee/evanjpeterson can tell you more.

Site: www.evanjpeterson.com
Twitter: @evanjpeterson
Insta: @evan.j.peterson

I was asked to stick the speech up online; this is not a literal transcription, but based on my speech notes. I’ll write up some additional notes later on this week. Here is the speech.

(after a little banter about muffins) I would ask you all if you’re having a good time but I know that you are. Because I’ve been so impressed by the enthusiasm, the professionalism, and the talent here, and amazed at how well the presenters are taken care of by the conference. Thank you for the chance to be here.

I figure you are all already stuffed full of writing advice, so I wanted to give you some things for after the conference.

First off, go home and sleep. Decompress. You’ve been working hard all weekend and you deserve it.

Then start to work. If you’re a notetaker, go back over your notes. I still go over mine from Clarion West in 2005 every once in a while. If you’re not, go look to see what other people have written up. I guarantee you’ll find some blog write-ups and other notes. Go find what you might have missed.

And use those notes and ideas to start to write. I try to write, every day, 2000 words, because that’s what Stephen King does and I think he’s a pretty good role model. Note that I say try, because I don’t always hit it. But you must write. Every day you write is a victory.

Figure out your personal writing process and what works for you. And then do it, lots. I realized that my most productive time is the mornings. So if my mother calls in the mornings, she knows I will answer “Is this an emergency?” and if she says no, I will hang up. (I did warn her before implementing this policy.) Find the times and places you are productive and defend them from the world. You will have gotten a lot of writing advice here and the thing about writing advice is this. All of it is both right and wrong, because people’s process differs and moreover, it can and will differ over the course of time. Find what works for you and do it.

Be kind to yourself. We are delicate, complex machines both physically and mentally. Writers are so good at beating themselves up, at feeling guilty, at imagining terrible futures. You are the person with the most to gain from being kind to yourself; do it. Don’t punish yourself for not hitting a writing goal; reward yourself when you do.

Seek out the peers who encourage and stimulate you. If you exist in an isolated place, there is the Internet. For example, sometimes Mary Robinette Kowal opens up a Google Hangout and invites some people and we all write together, simultaneously alone at our desks across the world and yet in each other’s company.

Read both in your genre and outside it, and remember that you cannot write anything better than the best stuff that you’re reading. Don’t let being a writer spoil your pleasure in reading. That would be a terrible thing. Instead, read for pleasure and then, when you find a book that you either love or hate, go back and reread it to figure out why. If there’s something a writer does that you think is nifty, steal it and use it. That’s absolutely valid. That’s how writers learn.

Persistence is important, as important as talent. Here’s an example for you. I had a story come out this year in The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction, a short story called “Red in Tooth and Cog.” It was my 44th submission to the magazine. And it wasn’t that the other 43 stories were bad stories – they all went on to find good homes and a few got award-nominated – but that they weren’t right for the magazine at that particular time. You must be persistent.

Volunteer if you have the time and resources — but with a plan. It’s a good way to be engaged with the larger community. One of the things I tell my students is to do some slush reading for a magazine. It’s a great way to get a feel for the editor’s side of things and to realize what the submission pile is like. Because one of the things you’ll learn is that no editor, or agent, or publisher says “Send me something” to be kind. There are just too many submissions flying at them on a daily basis for anyone to say that and not mean it. So if someone tells you that, do it, and do it sooner rather than later. You can learn a lot volunteering as a slush reader; just don’t do it too long or it will kill your soul.

Or volunteer with a conference like this one. You’ve seen what an enthusiastic and pleasant crew they are to work with over the course of this weekend. But only volunteer with one thing, and use it to deflect other requests. That’s what I do with SFWA, because I am sinking plenty of time into that, and I simply cannot take on other things. You must learn how to say no to things in order to survive as a writer.

But this brings me to the most important part. Writers live double lives. Many of you will have had that weird moment when the internal narrator first manifested and your life acquired a voiceover along the lines of, “She went to the cupboard and opened the door. She took down the cinnamon. Sprinkling it over the coffee, she inhaled. Etc.” We live and we watch ourselves living.

It is not enough simply to witness, to be such watchers. We must also act. Writers must be not just reporters, but leaders. To write about a character trying to do their best, you must do so yourself.

This weekend the question of diversity and how to achieve it has been raised over and over again. It’s so encouraging to have this fact acknowledged: diversity is not a trend. It’s a way of moving towards a more honest reflection of reality.

These are times when empty and inflammatory rhetoric increasingly dominates the public discourse. These are times when the repetition of mistruths to make them truths is a strategy exercised over and over again. These are times when we have a wealth of dishonest words.

We are the counter to that.

Because as writers, we write the truth of what it is to be a self-aware, self-directed creature in a universe that feels cold, hostile, and even downright unfair at times. Every story has that core. Whether it’s about wizards, spaceships, cowpokes, serial killers, whatever. We let our readers lead alternate lives and learn something about themselves in the process.

What does that mean for us as writers, as part of that grand and illuminating tradition? That we must live bravely and unflinchingly, knowing that we are imperfect creatures that can win only for the moment, if that. That we must speak our truths, the ones we have come to, honestly and fearlessly, knowing that sometimes — perhaps even often — we will be misunderstood. That we must throw ourselves into the abyss and spread our wings, trusting that we will fly.

Because we will. You will. I will. And in doing so, we will create the stories that lift our fellows upwards.

So go home. Sleep. And then when you are ready, spread your wings and begin to fly.