On Becoming a Good Literary Citizen

Writers can be a pretty fractious bunch—grouchy, touchy, insecure, jealous, and partial to cats and dogs over people.

But that’s not all we are—not by a long shot.

Writers are also generous, compassionate, and empathetic almost to a fault.

And those are the qualities I observe and admire when I’m in the company of writers. And since I’ve lately been keeping company with a lot of writers (at conferences and workshops), I wonder what we owe to one another, what we can and should do for one another, in this industry that demands so much solo work—and where pushing away from your writing desk to join the noisy real world can feel like a chore and a threat.

I found my answer. Actually, it came up in multiple conversations with writers: Literary citizenship.

I heard these words and they instantly felt like a clear mandate—one I hope I’ve already been pursuing without having named it.

Literary citizenship, in my view, means pushing aside our deep-seated need for personal recognition, marketplace validation, and, yes, sales, to make room for others to shine and learn and grow and test their own boundaries.

As a practice, literary citizenship means:

✅ Listening more than you speak.
✅ Celebrating and sharing work by others as often as possible.
✅ Using your platforms to help others use theirs.
✅ Offering advice only when and where it’s invited.
✅ Being a connector and convener as much as you can.

I suppose the other word for this behavior is altruism. The best thing about this is that when you give, you also get. When you help a writer share her book or her expertise, she may turn around and offers you an opportunity you never dreamed of. When you help a nervous writer prepare for her agent pitch, she’ll champion you forever. (Mind you: Your efforts should not be initiated as a quid pro quo.)

Behaving like a good literary citizen requires us to get out of our own way; to quite our own egos and dial into what others are asking for, whether that’s simple encouragement or a clue about querying.

Let me be honest: I have needs of my own—connections I want to make, opportunities I want to be offered, so I don’t have to compete all the time. There are tables out there where I want a seat.

But I’m increasingly confident that as an active literary citizen, the more doors I can open for others, the more doors will open for me.

Maybe that’s just good citizenship, period.

If you haven’t read WRANGLING THE DOUBT MONSTER: FIGHTING FEARS, FINDING INSPIRATION, you’re missing out on a book that writers tell me they keep on their bedside table! For real! If you are boycotting Amazon, then order from your local bookstore.

And coming your way: My new novel TENT CITY, which is getting some amazing early reviews!

Bernstein’s thrillingly perceptive story asks “Where does individual and collective responsibility start and end?” and imagines for us what happens when we don’t have answers. Captivating and horrifying, TENT CITY is everything a novel should be.

–Amy Goldmacher, Terms & Conditions