by Rachel S. Donahue
Hospitality: the friendly and generous reception and entertainment of guests, visitors, or strangers.1
As a long-time member of The Habit, a community of writers, I’ve heard many bits of advice from authors of all stripes, but one idea that has profoundly impacted me over the years is Jonathan Rogers’ assertion that writing is a form of hospitality.2
This idea resonated deeply because one of my favorite things to do is extend hospitality toward friends, visitors, and strangers.
Real-world hospitality includes thoughtfulness, an anticipation of needs, a welcoming environment, and a regard for the dignity of the person being received or entertained. Hospitality looks different in different cultures, too, so knowing something about who I am welcoming will change how I go about preparing to receive them.
On the page, hospitality isn’t much different. Thoughtfulness about the presentation of an idea, anticipation of what a reader needs (or doesn’t need!) to know, setting a scene that orients the reader, and care for how my words will affect the reader are all vital to my craft—as is knowing my audience. (Today my audience, dear reader, is you!)
For any writer who’s not simply writing as a form of self-indulgence, our job is to communicate effectively; to create a scene that invites the reader in; to show the reader something he couldn’t get for himself. Every writing tool, from grammar rules to Freytag’s pyramid, can be used in the service of hospitable writing.
But here’s an important reminder I received at the Habit retreat last weekend: hospitality doesn’t just go one way.
Yes, the hosts of a gathering go to a great deal of trouble to prepare the space for guests, but the guests bring something to the table, too. Sometimes it’s a literal gift—like a bottle of wine or sweet treats. Sometimes, it’s a story.
Jonathan always reminds guests at a Habit retreat that much of the goodness we experience over the weekend is the welcome that we extend to each other, and I’ve seen how that’s true time and again.
This mutual hospitality affects both how we speak and how we listen, how we inhabit the space and how we make space for others.
Taking this idea to the page, hospitality is not just about how we write, but how we read what other people have written. Engaging with someone else’s work is an act of hospitality, too. When I pick up a book (or read a Substack post!), I am sitting down to a table that my host has prepared. I am receiving what they have to give. I am extending the hospitality of a listening ear, the gift of my presence, and a willingness to commune over their ideas.
Not all writers are hospitable. (And for that matter, not all readers are either.) But I can tell you this: of all the bookish spreads I’ve sampled over the years, it’s the most gracious, generous writerly hosts who keep me coming back for more.
July 17–20: Sponsor Table at the CiRCE National Conference in Charleston, SC
Late July: Open submissions! More info to come.
August: Red Rex release (preorders open in June)
November: Above, Not Up release (preorders open in September)
We’re excited to hint at a new project from Bandersnatch Books illustrated by @abluebirdwilldo.
We will be sharing more about this in the coming months, but in the meantime, here’s a sneak peak at color palette options for the upcoming project! 🎨
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"It is one of the greatest feelings known to humans, the feeling of being the host, of hosting people, of being the person to whom they come for food and drink and company. This is what the writer has to offer."
Anne Lamott, Bird by Bird
Oxford Dictionary online.
The Habit is an online community for writers created and hosted by Jonathan Rogers. Jonathan has expounded on this idea in many practical ways in The Habit. Sign up for the free newsletter for a taste of his content, or jump in and join the membership for access to teaching times, office hours, and a community that knows how to practice writerly hospitality.
Beautifully put!
Yes! Love this! ❤