I wish I had been able to see Glen Hansard in concert. When my kids were very young, I had tickets to go see him and Markéta in NY after Once made it big, but we had to cancel at the last minute. In my circle of friends (and from what I saw in NY), his death didn't even make a blip, but I was not only shocked to learn of his death, but brought to tears in seeing the live rendition of "Forever Young" at the end of his funeral. His music will live on well past him as will our writing.
Great post. There are now too many posts, meetings, workshops, discussions about A.I. and much of it is redundant, which feels ironic. We're worried about A.I. duplicating and sharing, and yet we writers go to too many workshops, online forums, and so on that all say the same things. We go to workshops about it instead of spending the time creating our own stuff! I now tend to avoid the A.I. discussions because I'm too busy. I agree with you, Dan. Let's focus on the value each of us is putting into the world with our original work and how we share that. I heard a statistic last night at a workshop for children's writing that said the Department of English is getting the second-highest enrollments (with data center stuff being first) at University of Wisconsin-Madison. I have not verified that stat, however it came from a credible source. Writing and understanding good writing is lauded. I like that! And I like your attitude. Let's keep writing!
This post was so uplifting--a sensible take on the bursts of crazy we can feel every day. So, thank you.
I knew Kathy Pooler personally, meeting with her at a writers' retreat in 2015. She is a precious soul. I have read and reviewed both of her memoirs. Kathy was an immense help with creating and publishing my first memoir, Mennonite Daughter.
Terrific essay with a great message about why to share your creative work.
Glen Hansard was an amazing person to see in live concert—the lyrics, the voice, the passion!—and it’s so wonderful his heartfelt songs and recorded performances will live on. 🥲
Thanks for sharing his last recording in the pub, with the chorus “Everything that’s good has been done. Has been tried and failed.” Apparently, Glen was singing about a relationship (hopefully not his own!) but it also applies to a creative person facing a blank page. Realize that, yes, many other people have created good things before you. Also that trying and failing is part of the process. But keep at it and who knows? Maybe a beautiful piece of art will emerge from your latest try.
Dan, a friend of mine told me a story about a time he met Glen Hansard. It was at a music conference, and my friend happened to be chatting with Glen but didn't know who he was. They ended up jamming together for a few minutes, and after Glen passed on by, my friend learned from someone else attending the conference who he had been talking to!
I read a tribute to Glen in The Atlantic, where my friend shared his story in the comments section, and it touched me deeply. I had never heard of Glen before, but the way he chose to live his life, so close to his origins and by connecting with "ordinary" people meant the world to me. This is exactly the kind of artist I aspire to be.
Thank you for sharing this.
P.S. Your Note was very cute--not at all flippant!
Dan, it seems to me this is really about where we want to put our attention. What's the best use of our energy?
I notice AI seems to be a much bigger concern in the writing community than it is in science, where I've found it's been pretty favorably received. But whatever the source of concern, the question is the same: is dwelling on it useful to us? Does it give us any positive return on what we're actually trying to do? Or is our attention better spent being productive somewhere else — writing, or anything else?
There are plenty of things in the world we don't like and have legitimate reason to complain about. But sometimes we have to ask ourselves whether that's really the best use of our time, or whether we'd be better off spending it in ways that actually create more happiness, joy, and fulfillment. At least, this is how I think these days. Thanks.
To someone like me who has never used AI and probably never will, the whole affair seems ridiculous. Authors have written material under the influence of caffeine, alcohol, nicotine, LSD, cocaine, heroin, laudanum and other substances in the past, and nobody cared because it didn't impact the final result. But with AI, it's kind of obvious that you dictated the thing to something that is a very imperfect robot secretary.
It's almost like being an old Roman pagan watching the rise of Christianity with alarm- you don't what it means for you and your beliefs, and you are afraid of it. But if you decide just to ignore it as best you can, and it doesn't impact you or your work directly, you will remain an ethical practitioner of writing under your own power and means.
The deep meaning I hope your readers hear is, as you said, that our time is finite. Time together with loved ones, or creating, or being alone and marveling at the world; we don't know how long we have. Glen Hansard will always sing, through videos and in our hearts, but his family and friends can no longer hug him. That is the extra tragedy in all of this.
When you mentioned your family tree, with some of its branches ended so starkly, that is the extra tragedy as well; stories and memories that are now lost to time.
I miss the voices of people I've lost every day and wonder what they would want to talk to me about if they were here.
Wonderful essay. I read of Glen’s passing and that was how I learned of him. I listened to the recording of the Parting Glass — often sung at wakes and funerals. He was gone but his voice remained.
It’s one of the reasons I write. I lost my mother when she was 53. I have two sons and someday they may have children. I’m talking to them.
Ah, Kathy Pooler. Such a dear and authentic and beautiful person. I first met her smiling at me at a bar, at a Story Circle Conference, where we caught up on "real life." She'd been in my coaching group for a while working on her first memoir, in those days coaching groups were done by phone, but finally we got to meet in person. Always gracious, compassionate, and eager to learn, she became a leader and mentor herself. All of us who knew her loved her and felt loved by her. I'm so glad you mentioned her here.
I wish I had been able to see Glen Hansard in concert. When my kids were very young, I had tickets to go see him and Markéta in NY after Once made it big, but we had to cancel at the last minute. In my circle of friends (and from what I saw in NY), his death didn't even make a blip, but I was not only shocked to learn of his death, but brought to tears in seeing the live rendition of "Forever Young" at the end of his funeral. His music will live on well past him as will our writing.
Thank you Ron. So true.
Great post. There are now too many posts, meetings, workshops, discussions about A.I. and much of it is redundant, which feels ironic. We're worried about A.I. duplicating and sharing, and yet we writers go to too many workshops, online forums, and so on that all say the same things. We go to workshops about it instead of spending the time creating our own stuff! I now tend to avoid the A.I. discussions because I'm too busy. I agree with you, Dan. Let's focus on the value each of us is putting into the world with our original work and how we share that. I heard a statistic last night at a workshop for children's writing that said the Department of English is getting the second-highest enrollments (with data center stuff being first) at University of Wisconsin-Madison. I have not verified that stat, however it came from a credible source. Writing and understanding good writing is lauded. I like that! And I like your attitude. Let's keep writing!
Thank you Christine!
This post was so uplifting--a sensible take on the bursts of crazy we can feel every day. So, thank you.
I knew Kathy Pooler personally, meeting with her at a writers' retreat in 2015. She is a precious soul. I have read and reviewed both of her memoirs. Kathy was an immense help with creating and publishing my first memoir, Mennonite Daughter.
Thank you Marian!
Terrific essay with a great message about why to share your creative work.
Glen Hansard was an amazing person to see in live concert—the lyrics, the voice, the passion!—and it’s so wonderful his heartfelt songs and recorded performances will live on. 🥲
Thanks for sharing his last recording in the pub, with the chorus “Everything that’s good has been done. Has been tried and failed.” Apparently, Glen was singing about a relationship (hopefully not his own!) but it also applies to a creative person facing a blank page. Realize that, yes, many other people have created good things before you. Also that trying and failing is part of the process. But keep at it and who knows? Maybe a beautiful piece of art will emerge from your latest try.
Indeed. Thank you so much!
Important and moving words, Dan.
Thank you Katharine!
Dan, a friend of mine told me a story about a time he met Glen Hansard. It was at a music conference, and my friend happened to be chatting with Glen but didn't know who he was. They ended up jamming together for a few minutes, and after Glen passed on by, my friend learned from someone else attending the conference who he had been talking to!
I read a tribute to Glen in The Atlantic, where my friend shared his story in the comments section, and it touched me deeply. I had never heard of Glen before, but the way he chose to live his life, so close to his origins and by connecting with "ordinary" people meant the world to me. This is exactly the kind of artist I aspire to be.
Thank you for sharing this.
P.S. Your Note was very cute--not at all flippant!
Thank you Jeannie!
Dan, it seems to me this is really about where we want to put our attention. What's the best use of our energy?
I notice AI seems to be a much bigger concern in the writing community than it is in science, where I've found it's been pretty favorably received. But whatever the source of concern, the question is the same: is dwelling on it useful to us? Does it give us any positive return on what we're actually trying to do? Or is our attention better spent being productive somewhere else — writing, or anything else?
There are plenty of things in the world we don't like and have legitimate reason to complain about. But sometimes we have to ask ourselves whether that's really the best use of our time, or whether we'd be better off spending it in ways that actually create more happiness, joy, and fulfillment. At least, this is how I think these days. Thanks.
Thank you James.
To someone like me who has never used AI and probably never will, the whole affair seems ridiculous. Authors have written material under the influence of caffeine, alcohol, nicotine, LSD, cocaine, heroin, laudanum and other substances in the past, and nobody cared because it didn't impact the final result. But with AI, it's kind of obvious that you dictated the thing to something that is a very imperfect robot secretary.
It's almost like being an old Roman pagan watching the rise of Christianity with alarm- you don't what it means for you and your beliefs, and you are afraid of it. But if you decide just to ignore it as best you can, and it doesn't impact you or your work directly, you will remain an ethical practitioner of writing under your own power and means.
So beautiful. I'm so moved by how you draw life's most important moments into your craft, over and over. Reminding us of what matters.
Oh, thank you Nancy!
Great post. Thank you. Loved ending with your son practicing on the keyboard. Kudos to him.
Thank you Karen!
Beautiful, Dan. I'll go back through this to listen to what you've curated. Glen's music lives on, but oh! what a heartbreaking loss.
Thank you Robin.
Hi Dan.
The deep meaning I hope your readers hear is, as you said, that our time is finite. Time together with loved ones, or creating, or being alone and marveling at the world; we don't know how long we have. Glen Hansard will always sing, through videos and in our hearts, but his family and friends can no longer hug him. That is the extra tragedy in all of this.
When you mentioned your family tree, with some of its branches ended so starkly, that is the extra tragedy as well; stories and memories that are now lost to time.
I miss the voices of people I've lost every day and wonder what they would want to talk to me about if they were here.
Thanks Dan.
Thank you Lori.
Wonderful essay. I read of Glen’s passing and that was how I learned of him. I listened to the recording of the Parting Glass — often sung at wakes and funerals. He was gone but his voice remained.
It’s one of the reasons I write. I lost my mother when she was 53. I have two sons and someday they may have children. I’m talking to them.
Love that. Thank you Diane!
Such precious and uplifting thoughts. Thankyou for sharing this.
Thank you Kim!
Ah, Kathy Pooler. Such a dear and authentic and beautiful person. I first met her smiling at me at a bar, at a Story Circle Conference, where we caught up on "real life." She'd been in my coaching group for a while working on her first memoir, in those days coaching groups were done by phone, but finally we got to meet in person. Always gracious, compassionate, and eager to learn, she became a leader and mentor herself. All of us who knew her loved her and felt loved by her. I'm so glad you mentioned her here.
Thank you for this wonderful tribute to Kathy!!!
All good information. Thank you.
" . . . your creative vision is worth pursuing. Your voice matters."
"Our connection to others matters."
Yes! And that's why I produced "Connections: Inspiration to Write."
Thank you Marlene!