Hello friends! Seasons greetings!
Back in elementary school, there was a hand-painted banner outside the principal’s office with this message: "It's hard to be humble when you're from Willamina." The message behind the banner has been on my mind lately, in the month leading up to the release of Windfall.
The banner itself was likely inspired by the 1980 Mac Davis country song. You know you know it: "Oh lord, it's hard to be humble, when you're perfect in every way..."
I never quite understood what the banner meant. Willamina was (and is) a humble timber town in western Oregon. It's the exact kind of place people associate with the phrase "humble origins." So the banner to me always felt like a lie, as though some adult was trying to persuade us that being from Willamina was something special. But we all knew better. Kids understand the hierarchy of places. We knew what our small town lacked. We all knew Willamina was decidedly not perfect in every way.
Don't get me wrong. I love small towns and I’m proud to claim humble roots. But as someone who grew up in a small town, I’m also qualified to comment on their limits. The photo above is of a signpost in Columbus, North Dakota, a place perhaps even more humble than Willamina. (Columbus is another small place where I also have roots.) I've always found it a little sad how this signpost demonstrates the community's own humility, by pointing to all the "better" alternative destinations.
Whenever I am near Columbus, I make it a point to drive by that signpost. I always wonder whether kids who live there perceive it the same way I do. Do they see it as a beacon pointing to the wonders of the outside world? As a connection to those other places? Or an example of the limits of their hometown?
As a child, I read the banner outside the principal's office at Willamina Elementary School as a limiting warning: Don't brag, it's shameful. Being from here is nothing to boast of. Be humble.
Looking back, that was a gross misreading of the banner's intent, which was to pump us with pride even though we came from a dumpy town flanked on all sides by decaying sawmills. The school’s leaders were trying to tell us we were all doing the best that we could, even if we were from humble origins. And that the best we could do was enough. We were enough, even if we were from Willamina.
Unfortunately, my misreading of the banner followed me into adulthood. I find it difficult to celebrate success. I struggle with how to share good news so I don't come off like an asshole. I worry: Will someone think I'm bragging when I’m sharing my good reviews? Have I expressed enough humility in my excitement? Am I humble like someone from Willamina ought to be?
But oh lord, it is so so hard to be humble when you've got a book coming out! You have to shout about it every chance you have. Not just because you desperately want readers to connect with something you poured your heart into. But also because people need to buy your book and check it out from the library so you can maybe someday write another one. And if you don't brag about your work, who else will do it for you?!
When you have a book coming out, you have to suspend your own disbelief and doubt and shame. You have to look in the mirror and talk to yourself just like Mac Davis did in that song: "I get better looking each day!" You have to care most about amplifying anything that will connect the book with its readers. You have to stop worrying about coming across like a self-promoting vice president of sales posting on LinkedIn.
So brace yourselves for the 30-day blitz around Windfall, which will be out one month from today! There will be nothing humble about this effort. I will be bragging, every chance I get. You will probably get very tired of hearing about it.
I am not tired of it, not yet. Because this is what that little girl from Willamina dared to dream all those years ago.
With humble thanks for all your support,
Erika
P.S. I'm so sorry for putting that Mac Davis earworm in your head. But if you do watch the video, you will see how Davis just owns the ridiculousness of his creation. He grins all the while, even when he performs the cheesy line about his blue jeans. Also: Kenny Rogers on tambourine! Nonetheless, here's a much better roots-and-country Spotify playlist for your listening pleasure. It’s almost all women artists. The playlist is inspiration for a project I set aside for a bit, but that I hope to revisit soon. It’s full of great singalongs for a long drive. And yes, I listened to it all the time while writing Windfall.
THE NEWS
All the links…
The climate impact of your neighborhood, mapped. No surprises here. People who are able to live in denser places where they can walk, bike and access public transit have a smaller carbon footprint. Let’s imagine a world where this is possible for even more Americans.
Once you see the truth about cars, you can’t unsee it.
Same with gun violence. Heartrending stories in the Oregonian about the toll of gun violence on one Portland school. More from Mitchell Jackson in the New York Times magazine on what guns did to his Portland childhood.
The end of the death penalty in Oregon.
Something less serious! Why isn’t beige ever the color of the year?
Erika, I just preordered your book. I’m excited to read it and it’s awesome that we have met at Bunny’s party. It makes it special that we know each other. I have never know an author on the must read of 2023 list!!!
How do I get a bookplate for my copy of your book? I don’t need it for Christmas.
Roxanna Aldstadt