Happy Holidays to the Lot of Ya
A love letter to my Medium folks

Dear Readers,
From the fortress of my quilt-laden bed, bedecked with my finest holiday jammies, and behind my dollar store readers, I send out this greeting to old friends, new acquaintances, and to readers and writers around this Medium village, whatever your circumstance.
Happy holidays to new writers trying to find their way. To regular writers plugging along, checking stats too much, and relishing their interactions in the comments. To those who are actually making money on Medium, who have unlocked the code and found a solid readership! And to those trying to get curated, or just get their 100 claps.
Happy holidays to those who clap often and much and to those who don’t clap. Happy holidays to the one clappers!
Happy holidays to those who write stories that get no views. And to those who view often but write no stories. Happy holidays to those who do not write at all but secretly want to. To those who have pieces saved but are afraid to push publish. Happy holidays to those who post daily. And to those who aspire to.
Happy holidays to mothers and fathers finally sitting down to read and write after their last child has fallen asleep. Especially to those nursing moms who are reading and dare I say writing while feeding their babes! To grandparents far from their grandchildren and to all who are missing their loved ones deep in their hearts even more so at this time of year.
Happy holidays to workers who toil all day and then write works of magic at night after all the house chores are done. To those who write from nursing homes, from shelters, from sick beds. To those who write from the battlefield of broken families, recalcitrant teenagers, or loneliness.
Happy holidays to those with a wealth of inspiration but no time and those with no inspiration but a wealth of time. To those with talent and those with desire and grit.
Happy holidays to poets! To dreamers, to believers, to those who make their anger known with curse words and passion. To those who count syllables and rack their brains for rhymes. To those who can write sonnets and to those who have to google what a cinquain is.
Happy holidays to people who run publications. To those who edit and tirelessly send reminders of publication rules. To those who send out regular prompts and set up competitions. To those who only publish their own work. To those who gave up out of sheer burnout.
Happy holidays to you all and I shall read you in the new year!
Sincerely and with love,
Angie
(This letter was inspired by a piece by E.B. White that appeared in The New Yorker, December 20, 1952 P. 23)
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