In April of this year, two writers, Matthew Quick (author of The Silver Linings Playbook and Sorta Like a Rock Star) and Alicia Bessette (Simply from Scratch), decided to make a blog to help promote their efforts, and, in the process, they began offering space to fellow writers of their acquaintance in which to compose stories of kindness.
I was alerted to the site, now called Quest For Kindness, a few months later, by a contributor who thought I would appreciate the old world charm of the thing. Indeed I was moved, and somewhat taken aback, by the wide-eyed innocence of the endeavor, and by the overt reasonableness of some of the posts. Quest for Kindness seemed, to me, like career suicide, but in a warm and self-sacrificing way. I asked the co-creators, who happened to be a married couple, to submit to a battery of questions on their intentions, and some weeks of silence ensued, in which I came to believe they debated internally whether they even wanted to continue with the work of the blog at all. And yet, as the answers below attest, they have not yet given up their quixotic endeavor, happily so.
Here are some answers to the questions that every thinking web surfer would ask Bessette and Quick.
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The Rumpus: Can you tell us how the web site began and what prompted you?
Matthew Quick: It seemed like everywhere we looked on the Internet people were taking shots at each other, complaining, ‘critiquing,’ forming cliques, etc. There was also a lot of snarkiness. When we were deciding what type of blog we would use to help promote our work, we asked ourselves two questions: What’s not already out there? What will best represent us and our work?
Alicia Bessette: Mind you, there’s nothing wrong with snarkiness. Snarkiness done well is hilarious and incisive. But I tire of it easily, because at its root is mean-spiritedness. On the other hand, I never tire of kindness.
Rumpus: Are you guys both kind in daily life? Or is the site somehow a corrective on your malice and selfishness?
Bessette: I was raised Catholic; perhaps part of me still believes that the malice and selfishness deep within me has no known corrective! I really don’t know if I’m kind on a daily basis. I try to be. I hope I am. The other day I helped a wobbly old lady out of her kayak. Does that count? Should it “count,” or should it just be what it is?
Quick: I try to be kind. The narrator of my first novel practices “being kind rather than right.” I read that notion in an Anne Lamott essay a few years ago and it took on a special significance. I recently read this paraphrased quote on Twitter: If you want to be kind and gentle to others, you must first be kind and gentle to yourself. I think those are smart words. I’m no saint. I’m trying to live a healthy life and kindness is part of that effort. I think we are all prone to bouts of malice and selfishness. Quest for Kindness is not an attempt to repent, but to underscore the importance of kindness.
Rumpus: Do you think the fact that you are married is a part of what drove you to make the site?
Quick: It’s a nice team approach to blogging. Alicia and I support each other. Her success is my success and vice versa. Creating the shared blog seemed a natural step to take.
Bessette: I know some couples who really aren’t very kind to each other, who in fact don’t seem to like each other very much. It’s strange that sometimes, when you have a bad day, it’s easy to be unkind to the people closest to you in your day-to-day life, while you’re on your best, kindest behavior for others who don’t know you as well. Matt and I wanted to blog together but we didn’t want it to be, “this is what we did today.” We wanted to offer people something substantive, and something that hasn’t been done to death.
Rumpus: Do you ever quarrel about the site?
Bessette: Seldom. Something’s either about kindness, or it’s not. There’s not much to quarrel about.
Quick: Not that much, actually. We did a little when we were setting it up, but once we got into the rhythm of it, we didn’t/don’t really fight about it at all.
Rumpus: Is kindness a difficult thing to program week after week?
Quick: It can be. It sometimes seems as though the people who practice kindness succeed the least. It’s often daunting to see what gets writers attention. It can be hard to believe that a kindness-promoting site is important.
Bessette: Keeping up a weekly blog can be difficult. Too, it can be difficult to convince people to write about kindness. Some of the writers we solicited said that writing for Quest For Kindness was almost terrifying. In fact, many Quest For Kindness essays were delivered with an e-mail that expressed concern—If you don’t like my essay or can’t use it, no problem. We loved and used all of those essays.
Rumpus: Are you ever tempted to make a companion site that is just darkness and unpleasantness?
Bessette: There’s enough darkness and unpleasantness on the internet. I indulge my dark side by watching the nightly news. I also watch kung fu movies. I love ass-kicking movies.
Quick: There are writers that I admire greatly, writers whose books promote positive things, and yet I sometimes find these writers taking shots at other writers or picking fights in the name of some political cause or in defense of the type of writing they think is most important or whatever. When true dialogue occurs, it is seldom forwarded in e-mails or posted on Twitter or Facebook. But when the conversation gets mean and ugly, the drama usually attracts an audience.
I remember when I was in junior high a friend of mine created something called ‘The Busters’ Club.’ Two classmates would trade increasingly mean insults until one would quit. I always quit early and used to think that there was something wrong with me, because I couldn’t be the meanest seventh grader. Twenty-some years later, when some joker unfairly trashes someone I admire on Goodreads, Amazon, or whatever, I start to feel the same way. I’ve heard other writers say they won’t write reviews because it’s a conflict of interests, and I’m pretty much in that camp. I just want to write my stories and allow others to do the same.
It’s so hard to be a published writer these days. I don’t want to make it harder for anyone than it already is.
Rumpus: Favorite posts on the site? Why?
Quick: We’re grateful for and proud of all the posts, but posts by Heather Leah were particularly powerful, perhaps because I know those writers personally and they really allowed themselves to be emotionally vulnerable. I think one of the reasons many people struggle with the idea of celebrating kindness is because they are terrified of emotional vulnerability. When you act detached or like an asshole all of the time, you sort of put up a force field that keeps people at bay. When you practice being kind, you open yourself up to many difficult emotions, especially when the people around you don’t value kindness. You have to be strong to be kind—stronger than most people can be on a daily basis. I often struggle with my inability to be kind. I think most people do.
Bessette: Is it unkind to pick favorites? Hilary Parkinson’s essay about being abandoned by family, then lifted up by strangers, makes me cry every time.
Rumpus: Do you worry that the site will result in a reputation for excessive amounts of squeaky clean for you both?
Bessette: Our books have been described as earnest and wholesome. But I’m really not worried about us appearing excessively squeaky clean.
Quick: If Quest For Kindness results in any lasting reputation whatsoever, I’ll be pleased. We’re not squeaky clean at all. We’re just two writers trying to live life the best we can.
The Rumpus: Are either of you evangelical?
Quick: Hardcore Protestants raised me, so my upbringing definitely colors my worldview. But what we do on Quest For Kindness (and in our work) doesn’t align us with the philosophies of my religious family members. Alicia and I don’t belong to or attend a church. We don’t claim any one faith. Almost all of my writing heroes are atheists. Kurt Vonnegut has always been my number one literary hero. He was an atheist, but his work almost always underscored the need for kindness. So I’d say I’m no more or less evangelical than Vonnegut.
Bessette: I have a knee-jerk resistance to anything that’s presented in an all-or-nothing way, even if it’s good. I hope Quest For Kindness isn’t perceived as evangelical, but as an invitation to join a conversation.
Rumpus: Is there a particular kind of prose that is kind? Do kind writers all write the same way?
Bessette: You don’t have to be a kind writer or even a kind person to write about kindness. I think the beauty of Quest For Kindness is the variety of stories, all the different ways kindness affects people, and how it’s expressed in various settings and circumstances.
Quick: When I was a high school English teacher I used to remind myself that I worked in the humanities department and therefore I should teach my students to be humane. I also had a picture of Kurt Vonnegut front and center in my classroom. Vonnegut was holding a baby. Underneath KV was a quote about infecting young people with humanity before they grew up and stopped reading fiction. I think that’s what all the great writers have and will do, in one way or another—infect people with humanity. I’m standing by Vonnegut on this one.
The Rumpus: Is Kindness inevitably married to the memoir form?
Quick: Absolutely not.
Bessette: We ask for true tales, and so far, the responses have been memoiristic, which suits me fine. I wouldn’t mind featuring philosophical or journalistic takes on the subject. A photo-essay would be cool too.
Rumpus: Is kindness a political act for you guys or just a literary act?
Bessette: It’s neither political nor literary. It’s just something that interests me, as an antidote to the negativity that seems pervasive.
Quick: It’s more of an ideal that transcends political and literary labels. We really wanted Quest For Kindness to be inclusive. We definitely have beliefs and ideas, but we find that labels often prohibit dialogue. Deep down we all know what’s kind and what’s not.
Rumpus: And why a “quest?” Does it feel like a quest to you? In the old sense of the word?
Quick: In some ways it really does. We wanted to search for and illuminate acts of kindness by giving writers an opportunity to promote their voices in a positive and uplifting manner. We were curious to see if people would rise to the occasion, if there was an audience for this sort of weekly experience.
Bessette: In an age that celebrates cynicism, sometimes it does seem that I need to actively search for kindness, in order to celebrate it. To me the word “quest” connotes a personal journey, and as far as one can undertake a personal journey on the Internet, Quest For Kindness feels like one. But, for it to be a true quest, I would require a sword. Or at least a dagger. Preferably with a bejeweled handle.
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Rumpus original art by Jason Novak.
11 responses
Thank you Rumpus! This is why you’re set as my homepage. This is just what I needed as I begin my work day.
So often I hear the “avoid sentimentality” mantra in my head as I write and so often I equate bravery on the page with blood and bone. I think “story is conflict” and pit my character’s lowest selves against each other. But there are plenty of obstacles to being a kinder person, plenty of conflict there. Risking your hide is easy, skin sheds, renews. Risking your heart is another story. A harder one to write.
Viva la Rumpus!
This is beautiful:
When you act detached or like an asshole all of the time, you sort of put up a force field that keeps people at bay. When you practice being kind, you open yourself up to many difficult emotions, especially when the people around you don’t value kindness.
This is EXACTLY what I’m doing when I’m acting like an asshole. If I can just remember that other people who I think are acting like assholes are doing the same thing, maybe I can react to them differently.
I am a firm believer that good manners count. So much so that I have those three words tattooed on my left forearm, to remind me at all times – especially when I’m too wrapped up on myself – to be kind to, and thoughtful of, others. The notion that a blog like Quest for Kindness, which celebrates this impulse while promoting good writing, can exist and flourish fills me with joy. If only I could get an RSS feed to it tattooed on my arm…
I was struck by your comment that being affiliated with kindness might be career suicide. What did you mean by that? Too evangelical sounding? Too limiting on one’s ability to smoke through future author interviews? I can imagine the next time the Today show needs a “kindness expert” these folks will be at the top of the list. They could easily then write “The Ten Point Plan to Increasing Kindness in Your Life”, stand next to the Obamas during kindness week, and follow up with a memoir of all the unkind things they did on the way to becoming the most kindness aware couple in America.
But mostly, I was curious if you thought kindness was a taboo topic. It seems to me that it is similar to beauty. That the biggest taboo about it is ascribing it to yourself because the eye of the beholder, so to speak, the outside eye, is supposed to be the judge. Or maybe because it simply sounds like bragging.
This blog misses it for me by treating kindness repeatedly as either unknowable or singular moments. We experience this sort of kindness once in a blue moon because overt gestures are relatively rare in day to day interactions and by their nature they give us pause. But I think of kindness more like yoga. Either you have a regular practice (that you humanly, imperfectly and with relatively little thought maintain) or you are dropping in and getting a good stretch. And telling yourself you’ll do it again next Tuesday.
Also, there was very little guilt on this blog. It was refreshing, but also I missed it. If I’m not asking if I/he/she/it deserves the kindness…well that’s like movie popcorn without the calories. A missing central conflict. The reason Christianity got so tied up in this natural impulse in the first place. What do you think?
Deb, this is a really interesting note! Here’s a parable to answer the first question–about “career suicide.” My cousin Jack, one of my most favorite people in the whole world, and probably the man who most taught me what it means to be a man, is a committed out gay minister in the Episcopal Church, though now retired. One time, he and I went to church together, and a younger would-be minister (feminine version thereof) struck up a conversation with us after, during coffee hour. This minister was graceful, energetic, and, insofar as she was in charge of faith development (development of congregation), she was going to be very, very good at her job. On paper, and in person, she was a perfect up-and-comer for my church. My cousin, however, and bear in mind that among his excellences is that he says things like this at 83 years old, said of her, “You know it’s always disappointing when people of faith are so uncool.” I knew exactly what he meant.
I think you are right to want more from Quest for Kindness, in terms of complexity, but I think you should bear in mind that it is a very young endeavor, early in its learning curve, and if you are not seeing what you want in its pages, you should volunteer to write something for them yourself. When I said “career suicide,” I meant what my cousin meant, namely that there is a danger in writing about kindness that it seems just preposterously uncool, and the world is such that once you get tarred with that creosote, it never becomes unsticky. But I am also old enough now (which is to say very close to fifty, as of last week) to think that the coolness part of the literary endeavor is just infantile, really. And so much of the snark in the literary world, to which the Q4K editors allude, has to do with this very kind of public posturing among (mostly) unhappy young men. I find their world view ridiculous and embarrassing. But then, by the same token, it’s hard not to look upon the defense of kindness without having, if you’re me, a small wave of resistance. Satan, after all, is the more appealing character in PARADISE LOST. I say this to describe my first impression of Q4K. My second, third, and fourth impressions are that Matthew and Alicia are extremely brave and that if the site continues, something genuine and important will come out of it. I feel certain of that.
Perhaps now is the moment to admit that I myself have recently been solicited for a contribution, by Matthew, and that, so far, my reaction is one of stunned silence. And I have written about some very complicated and difficult things in my life (including, e.g., the New Testament). It is surprising then, that, I am entirely mute on this subject. I expect that I will eventually have something to say on kindness. And I think your challenge above is a good challenge, and I say to you: if I’m going to do it, you should do it too. Or as they say in Alcoholics Anonymous: if you’re not hearing what you need to hear at the meeting, raise your hand and say it yourself. And work in some guilt.
Okay, the guilt part, above is not part of the Alcoholics Anonymous program. I added that in myself.
Guilt is part of everything, is it not? But then again I, like Alicia, was raised Catholic. But I love this idea of embracing kindness–and while I can’t remember who said this, I’ve never forgotten the quote itself, which went something like, “Every one of us feels pain–some feel a little, some a lot–so we have to be nice to each other.”
Rick, I understand what you are saying about the experience with your cousin. Although, I feel like part of the problem for people of faith is that the word “cool” seems to be defined against them. They can add in all the rock bands they want, but then rock bands are uncool. Add to it the culling quality inherent to cool groups and church is left holding its hot, warm, welcome coffee in a very uncool way.
That said, I had what felt like a moment of cool at St. Barts not too long ago, which says to me that cool slips through the cracks everywhere.
It was the weekend of September 11th. The service was structured with requiem interludes and they had hired a brass ensemble to accompany their professional choir. The service was focused on the dual purposes of honoring the dead and quelling the mosque hysteria that was at its height and had affected St Barts oddly because some seemed to think that 51Park referred to 51st and Park, but that is another story. Toward the end of the service, I heard all this fumbling noise. I looked up and they were rolling out these huge kettle drums. Then the drums started play the processional which was Aaron Copeland’s “Fanfare for the Common Man”. It was a smart choice. The sound of their very human feet underneath it. The organ. The Modernism. It just felt like a brain was involved in that choice. And it made it impossible to go through the motions of wrapping up another service in the usual way.
Maybe that is why “kindness” seems tricky. It is really hard to see it in a complicated, new way without breaking the word a little. It seems a bit pre-chewed and difficult to be smart about. And if you want to talk creosote, try hanging out with “chastity” and “prudence”. The Seven Virtues thing did nothing for it. If it weren’t for the Beatles, no one would name their child Prudence anymore.
But yes, I would love to pick up your gauntlet and write something. I have certainly been thinking about it enough the last couple of days. I had been thinking I should write something myself anyway, if only to make up for being critical. And the guilt will probably find a way in. It is good at that.
Deb, I want to take issue with some of the idea that people of faith are inherently uncool. Martin Luther was kind of cool. Joan of Arc was definitely cool. Leo Tolstoy, pretty cool. Mahatma Gandhi, very cool, likewise Martin Luther King, Jr. Patti Smith observed for a while, as did David Thomas of Pere Ubu (especially on their best album, NEW PICNIC TIME, which I keep alluding too in these pages), Leonard Cohen, arguably observant, Bob Dylan, depending on the year, observant, Van Morrison, Flannery O’Connor, and so on. I think it’s possible. And I think kindness, though it is a degraded word, yes (but so are so many words degraded, like “tragic,” or “genuine,” or “real”), is less degraded than cool.
Rick,
Don’t get me wrong. I don’t mean to say that people of faith are never cool. As I was thinking about your post, I thought of several people who have the kind of ineffable wonderfulness that fits an idea of cool. (and yes it is a problematic word. I totally agree). Saying that, I was imagining what the people I imagine to be cool would say. I think, as a culture, it is too easy to be cynical about all religious impulses and all religious people. I am not saying it is all justified, but if your group is prone to be snarky (like the cool you describe), the religous are going to get snarked at. This is really just a reiteration of your point.
Oh, and I forgot to say, happy belated birfday.
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