Literary Citizenship: How to Show Up for Other Writers

I once gave a reading for my first book where exactly five people showed up.

Five.

It was awkward. I’m not going to pretend otherwise. But I remember those people, by name, and you better believe I show up for them when they do readings. Because they came, sat down, listened, and gave me their attention when they could have been anywhere else.

That, to me, is literary citizenship.

It sounds like a formal term, but the idea is simple: writers and readers showing up for the literary world they want to be part of. You read other writers. You talk about their books. You go to readings. You leave reviews. You send the occasional note that says, I read this. It mattered to me.

None of this requires a giant platform.

Mostly, it requires noticing when you love something and saying so.

Tell People About the Books You Love

One of the easiest things you can do for an author is talk about their book.

And I mean really talk about it. Not just “Loved this!” with a photo of the cover (though, if that’s all you have time for, do it). Say what stayed with you. Maybe the voice made you laugh. Maybe one scene wrecked you. Maybe you immediately called your sister because you knew she would love it too.

For a while, I did a whole series on Instagram that I called #bookstagramAtoZ, sharing books I loved alphabetically by title. For L, I chose “Less” by Andrew Sean Greer because I freaking love that book. Mr. Greer himself commented that he was flattered and I completely fangirled.

It reminded me that writers notice when readers talk about their work. Maybe the author sees your post. Maybe they don’t. But really, that isn’t really the point. You’re helping somebody else discover a book you loved.

And if you really loved a book, leave a review.

It doesn’t have to be long or beautifully written. A few honest sentences can help another reader decide whether the book might be for them.

I’m feeling this from the author side right now with my latest nonfiction book, Sit Write Here: 6 Mindfulness Practices to Help You Write More and Suffer Less. If you’ve read it and found something useful in it, leaving a quick review is one of the simplest ways to help it reach another writer who might need it.

So when you love something, say so. Recommend it. Review it. Put a copy in somebody else’s hands.

And if you’ve been reading from the same comfortable corner of the bookstore for a while, step outside your usual book bubble. Supporting writers starts, very simply, with reading them.

Show Up When You Can

The next one asks a little more of you: show up.

Go to the reading. Go to the bookstore event. If a writer you admire is speaking somewhere you can reasonably get to, sit in the audience.

Years ago, I drove up into the mountains for a literary salon where writers gathered, talked, ate, and read work aloud. There was no critique. Nobody was trying to impress anybody. I remember leaving with the very clear feeling that I had found my people.

Send the Note

Here’s another one that takes about ten minutes: tell an author when their work means something to you.

For a while, I tried to send a note like this about once a week. Nothing elaborate. Just a few sentences saying what I loved and why.

If you can’t find a direct email address, try the author’s agent or publisher and ask whether they would forward it.

Writers spend a tremendous amount of time alone with their work, having no idea how it’s landing out in the world.

Then somebody sends a message that says: I read this. I loved it. It mattered.

That lands.

Literary Citizenship Isn’t Networking

This is the part I think matters most.

Don’t do any of these things because you’re quietly keeping score.

You don’t share somebody’s book because you hope they’ll share yours later. You don’t go to a reading because you want the author to remember your name. You don’t send a lovely note and tuck the favor away in some imaginary bank account.

That’s not the point.

The point is to participate.

Writing can be lonely. Publishing can be weird. Every writer I know has had moments when they wondered whether anybody was reading or whether the work mattered.

Literary citizenship is one small way we answer each other:

I’m here. I read it.

Keep Showing Up

You don’t have to do everything.

Tell somebody about a book you loved. Leave a review. Go to a reading when you can. Send the note. Read somebody whose work you might not otherwise have found.

These gestures are small, but that’s part of what I love about them. A writing life is built out of small things anyway: pages, sentences, mornings at the desk, one conversation that makes you feel a little less alone.

So celebrate the books that move you. Tell writers when their work matters. Help a good book find one more reader.

A review. A recommendation. A seat in the audience. A thoughtful note.

None of it is very complicated.

But it matters.