The weeks since September 11 have been a rough season for all of us, I think. Many of my writer colleagues have talked about how difficult it was to return to their keyboards and begin to write again. It all seemed so meaningless in the face of all that loss.

To be sure, we saw a marked decrease in the number of submissions for this issue, and I think that the attacks on America and their aftermath had an impact on the writing community. As one friend put it, "It's difficult to write short stories about the little moments, the subtleties, when we've just watched thousands of lives snuffed out before our very eyes."

Once the initial shock had worn off, however, writers everywhere seemed to realize that writers write. It's not a choice, it's a mandate, a compulsion. And so we went back to our keyboards, unwilling to let a cowardly act cow us. Writing had become an act of defiance, a way out of sorrow and grief and horror. Writing is a way of celebrating the things that terrorists were trying to destroy.

To those of you who write, keep writing. Tell the truth, as you see it, whether you write memoir or essays, short stories, plays and poetry. Show us our deeper nature, the part that shines out when we defy the instinct to crouch in a corner and cover our heads. Write about the things we need to remember — compassion, love, fortitude, reason.

No one should forget what happened to America on that impossibly clear morning in September. The task now for writers is to show us a way to fight impulses toward hate, ignorance, intolerance and violence. If you write work that values human dignity, cherishes life, and celebrates love, you will be remembered for it. It's the best way to honor those thousands whose lives were sacrificed to hate.

© 2001 by River Road Studios

HOME | Archives | Submission Guidelines | Contributors | Links | Contact Us