While holding my print copy of Pages Penned in Pandemic, I thought back to the original vision for this book. I wanted to celebrate the people who did not give up during 2020, but rather, found a way to survive by writing. This notion of endurance and sacrifice and strength beheld by these souls was something I wanted to capture in a tangible way, as a means to look back in ten years and remember how we conquered.
Standing on the other side of this dream, I know the collective does just that. And as I discussed the publication with my former AP English teacher, I was steered toward William Faulkner’s Nobel Prize speech. Though this banquet address was given December 10, 1950, there is much that resonates with my initial wish. He explains, “I believe that man will not merely endure: he will prevail. He is immortal, not because he alone among creatures has an inexhaustible voice, but because he has a soul, a spirit capable of compassion and sacrifice and endurance.”
Those who contributed to this collective proved their own compassion and sacrifice and endurance long before submitting to us; they continued to write despite the chaos and upheaval of the last year. They prevailed.
These reflections were much needed among the worry about the book’s spine and interior design elements and the reaction readers would have once they finally received their own copies of a book that belonged to us, the editors, for so long. However, as I explained in my “Letter From the Editor,” I don’t think this book ever really belonged to us. Stories are meant to be shared.
Now some people, though I won’t name them here, have asked what myself and my co-founder / editor / best friend / brightest light in my universe gain from this book if we are not receiving any monetary compensation. There are so many answers I could give, but I’m not sure a simple, for the love and belief in storytelling would do. Because believe me, I have tried that explanation.
So if you, dear reader, are also wondering why we will be donating all proceeds from the print collective to 826 National, I shall endeavor to expound upon those motivations.
When I was younger, I was blessed with unending encouragement and support from my teachers. There was Mrs. Wood and Ms. Bookmiller, Mrs. Slocum and Mrs. Fisher, Mr. Wienclawski and Mrs. Stachowiak. All of these gracious souls helped guide me toward this life as a writer. I was given “The Scarlet Ibis” and The Giver and A Separate Peace, Frankenstein and The Idylls of the King and Beowulf, Tess of the D’Urbervilles and Like Water For Chocolate and Ethan Frome, poetry by Thomas Hardy and William Blake and Tennyson. But more than that, I was given room to expand not only my bookish horizons, but my writing ambitions as well. And these people, dear reader, are the reason I wanted to donate our proceeds to an organization that would give support to young writers. I thought of them living in the midst of a pandemic, unsure if their words were worth putting on the page.
The answer, dear reader, is that yes, we need those young writers to tell their stories. Often I think about how the moments we are living now will become scars in future books. They will become small moments that feel too honest, they’ll ache in a way tiny things shouldn’t, in much the same fashion that Guy looking up in Fahrenheit 451 feels too real; Bradbury’s scars from the Cold War exist on every page.
This realization and drive to donate our proceeds from this book arrived day one in the timeline of this project. I’d already posted a dozen or so interviews with authors for the featured blog series and my favorite answer to read was always: “Is there any advice you would give to young writers during this time?” It was the easiest decision to make.
Perhaps this all seems a bit tangential. But this is precisely why we’ve chosen to keep only this book as evidence that we created something important over the last few months. We gave a forever home to stories and poems and essays and more written during tumultuous times. While some pieces offer chances for escape, others directly depict the experience of the pandemic. And we are so proud of every page within this collective.
Now on the other side of 2020, the urgency of the pandemic has yet to fade. But there is a way to prevail despite the darkness because there is hope and possibility and light. As long as we tell our stories, we can conquer anything.
