Some time ago, I pulled together a chapbook for a literary contest. A chapbook—I had to look it up myself—is a compilation of various kinds of writing with a coordinating theme that runs throughout. I had no hope of winning because I am a writer not drawn to many of the currently popular subjects, but I assembled it because it was a good excuse—and fun—to read and organize some of my stories.

I wandered through a collection of short stories I’ve written over the years searching for that common thread. As I read through them and also thought about the novels I’ve written, I began to see themes emerging.

The first I recognized quickly— the power of place. It is a significant part of my novels. In Cairnaerie, the place—the house—becomes a character in itself. In Fleuringala, the small town of Lauderville, Virginia, launches and shapes the story. Clearly, I began to discover that many of my short stories are also anchored in a distinct place that provides a backdrop and shapes a story. 

A second theme that emerged is optimism. I write—and live—with a kind of irrepressible sense of the positive. I get it from my mother whose frequent response to any situation, good or bad, was always, “Well, things work out for the best.” I’ve always believed in that axiom—and it is clearly reflected in my writing. Even the direst situation has a silver lining. Let’s take COVID, for example. While it wasn’t a fun two years, a lot of positive came out of it. There was the shift to online meetings that saved time and energy, creating new efficiencies for businesses and organizations. The same applies to work-at-home situations that provided much flexibility for workers—not to mention the cost savings in business attire, travel time, and transportation. Then there was a strong uptick in computer and online competency for many. Learning to navigate anything online was challenging, but it put us in good stead for the future.

A third theme that emerged as I wandered through my portfolio is the belief that all life is valuable—that every life no matter how apparently insignificant has a purpose and a meaning. I learned this lesson from a dear friend, now departed, who was born with very limited mental capacities—yet who had a monumental talent for friendship. (You can read more about her here in an earlier post.)

The point is this: They say that writers should write from experience—and it is true in many ways. No matter how far afield we may take our characters or what bizarre situations we create for them, we each have fundamental beliefs that permeate everything we can imagine. It informs our writing almost unconsciously—and influences our words. It is a kind of siren song that draws each of us to write based on what we’ve learned, what we love, what we value.

So here’s a challenge, especially for my writing friends. Look back over your own body of work and see if you can understand the themes and beliefs that shape your own writing. What does your own chapbook reveal?