Happy Christmas (Eve)! I hope this finds you feeling full of festive cheer but just in case it doesn’t (and trust me, I know how stressful this time of year can be!) I want to share a massive learning moment I had this week and I hope it helps.
On Monday, my friend and I went on a mission to find a copy of my novel, The Storyteller of Auschwitz, which has just been published by Sphere here in the UK.
We knew that Asda were stocking the book so we headed for the nearest store.
Full disclosure - it is increasingly hard to get shelf space for books here in the UK and stores have never been super supportive of my books, in spite of the fact that I’ve had a 23 year career as a writer and have won several book awards.
The former council estate kid in me (projects for American readers) has always had a bit of a chip on my shoulder about this. I’ve never felt as if I’ve truly belonged in the middle class world of publishing and I’ve always been painfully aware of the difference in background between me and most other writers and publishers that I meet.
Most of my contemporary novels feature working class characters living on council estates and I’m really proud of this. I was writing about ‘diverse’ characters long before it became a box for publishers to tick.
But I feel that I’ve been penalised commercially as a consequence. So getting to see The Storyteller of Auschwitz in Asda this week felt very sweet.
After we left the store my friend had to drop some Christmas gifts off for a project she’s involved with this year, helping people who are struggling to make ends meet this festive season.
The project matches people who want to donate gifts with a family who can’t afford to buy gifts. My friend had been matched with a single mum of two children.
We followed the sat nav to the woman’s address and found ourselves in a sprawling council estate. I should say at this point that I’ve known my friend since we were eight-years-old and we grew up as neighbours on a council estate in London.
The address we’d been sent to on Monday was for a different estate we’d never been to before but as we drove around the rabbit warren of rows of houses and blocks of flats, my friend said, ‘Well, this all looks very familiar.’
I nodded, spying a towel hanging in a window as a makeshift curtain, something that I had in my bedroom when I was a teenager.
While I waited in the car as my friend delivered the gifts I thought back to how we’d sit in each other’s bedrooms as teens, listening to records and vowing that we’d one day escape the grimness of life on the estate.
We both did. And even though we both ended up as single mums, we were lucky enough to be able to bring our kids up in peaceful and safe environments.
And even though I wasn’t able to buy my son the latest game console or swankiest football boots when he was a kid, I always had enough money to give us a nice Christmas.
My friend and I drove back home, full of gratitude for how far we’d come but also sobered by the reminder of what could have been.
So many people are struggling this Christmas and will do long into the new year.
I don’t know about you, but it’s making me crave minimalism and simplicity. To me, the orgy of spending encouraged at this time of year has never seemed more obscene.
When we got back on Monday I headed off to meet my dad for lunch.
My dad has always been the person I turn to when I need advice or inspiration, so much so that he inspired the character of Solly in The Storyteller of Auschwitz, and many readers have written to tell me that he’s their favourite!
‘How do you stay happy and grounded when there’s so much chaos in the world?’ I asked him as we settled in with our drinks.
‘Well, when I wake up in the morning I sit up in bed and say, “Bollox to the lot of you!”’ he replied with a grin. ‘And then I feel great!’
After I’d finished laughing he said, ‘Seriously though, it’s all about finding the joy and love in every moment - and living them.’
LIVE THE LOVE is a motto my dad lives by, so much so that a few years ago he asked me to get some badges made with it printed on.
We both happened to be wearing our badges on Monday and I joked that we maybe looked like members of a cult. But to be honest with you, I think it’s way more preferable to the cult of consumerism!
It was so helpful to be reminded of the power of love (I feel a Christmas song coming on…). And the best thing is, we can all access love at any time for free.
So, this Christmas, don’t worry if you can’t afford to BUY THE STUFF, try LIVING THE LOVE instead. Do a simple act of kindness. Think loving thoughts about yourself. Send someone a loving message.
And on that note…
I want to send you so much love and gratitude for being a part of this Wonderstruck community. Writing to you each week, and hearing back from so many of you in the replies and the comments, has become a highlight of my week, and I’m so grateful to you.
Wishing you all a peaceful, loving Christmas.
Siobhan
Dear Siobhan
Thankyou for sharing your writing year with us via Substack. You're an inspirational. I've learned so much on my own journey into self expression from the inner and outer journeys you've shared with us. I celebrate seeing your book on Asda shelves, and you're gentle journey here with your readership on Substack.
I say gentle because your words speak for themselves: they're lyrical and I identify with them strongly. You are passionate rather than pushy about your writing, and I look forward to receiving your articles.. I say this because I'm concerned Substack doesnt become another blatant peddling platform rather than a celebration of writing itself. I'm here to explore and celebrate creative expression
So Thankyou Siobhan. and your Dad for his wisdom
I don't know how I missed this! I must have needed to read it NOW. Glad I did because I was feeling fussy due to low funds but I realize I have all I need.