My annual Christmas letter turned
nasty this year. I wrote it at night and erased an especially cranky paragraph
the following morning. It went like this:
I had my cable disconnected in March and
went to streaming to avoid all the dreadful election commercials. I understand
some politicians are revving up for 2016 and I hope every one of them who
inflicts this bombardment on us again dies a writhing death.
In a saner moment, I deleted this in favor of my usual
judicious collection of information about our family and my activities. Other
than a light dusting about my writing, I don’t market in Christmas letters. It
has always seemed tacky to me.
I love receiving my friends’ annual Christmas letter. If
their husband is now a vice-president, or their daughter is on the Olympics
team, the son accepted at Harvard, I’m thrilled. Send this good news to me. I’ll
rejoice with you. And cry for you if the year has been an unmitigated tragedy. I
resent the mean-spirited correspondents who write advice columnists haughtily
jeering at “bragging” impersonal letters. Because I worry that people who send
them might feel ashamed and then stop.
I love good news. In this world when families are trying to
cope with so many natural disasters, why would anyone, anywhere, at anytime begrudge
someone having something to crow about? If my friends minimize the bad news and
the hard times to cover up a broken heart, I understand. If they’ve had to searched
their souls for something good to write about, blessings on them.
I meant every word I said in the deleted paragraph although
my cheery little Christmas letter wasn’t the place for this. In addition to
errant politicians pressing their messages, I’m wondering if the all the
marketing mania to become noticed in the publishing world hasn’t gone too far? Isn’t
there a point of diminishing returns? I’m bombarded with email about book
release dates, new blog entries, newsletters, signings, awards, and contests.
Even though I cherish all of the annual Christmas letters, I
wonder if my response would be the same if I heard from all of my friends and
relations every day, or every week, or even every month.
4 comments:
Loved this post, Charlotte. A wise outlook on life, to be sure. And I know what you mean about the scathing comment that you erased. I've done the same many a time, but it's always good to vent, to write your opinion down and bring it out into the open, even if no one else ever sees it.
I, too, love Christmas newsletters and welcome whatever news the sender wants to share. A first this year, though, when among a letter writer's tidbits about renovating their home, travel to exciting destinations, activities to aid their small town, they add that a nephew remains incarcerated as he has been for two years. That one stopped me. I could what if that little seed from here to Sunday and have a novel. But is it okay to use? I have to think about it.
CK--as you can tell, I'm ambivalent about time spent on-line instead of actually writing. It's so easy to all our time connected and I'm not sure that's a good idea.
Irene, I think that's fascinating. I received my first wedding picture in a Christmas card of a committment ceremony between two men. I think people are becoming more open about all the aspects of their lives.
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