The end of Daylight Savings Time is always double-edged for me. As a regular morning runner, despite my night owl tendencies, I’ve been pushed by early rising friends (shout out to the Hot Dishes) to stretch and pound through the ungodly pre-sunrise for a few weeks already (only a few days ago, the sun did not come up until 8am). Once the clocks turn, I can see my feet as early as 6:30, as I dodge potholes and strain to keep up - believe it or not, it’s a glorious magic (thanks, endorphins!)
But it’s a bad bargain. Less than a month from now, the promise of early light (such as it is - I live in rainy Seattle, after all) will have gone, and in exchange, cloudy skies with 4:30 pm sunsets can mean whole days lived in the Dark.
Accepting Darkness in northern climes and times means different coping rhythms, renewed rituals of light, adjusted perspective. Coziness, or Scandinavian Hygge becomes more than an embrace. It’s almost a need - candles, sweaters, blankets, hot tea and a good book feel appropriate, regardless of whether it’s cold or wet out. The Dark demands it. It’s a kind of armor against which all the murky gloom seems merely atmospheric, rather than menacing.
My dog is especially good at this :) I’m pretty sure that if she had opposable thumbs, she’d have a steaming mug by her side. But if she can’t, I can.
So, I am working to appreciate the Dark for its inherent possibility.
Rather than choosing to see shortened days as hindrances that limit our activity or toss obstacles in the way of productivity, step one is to look for the things darkness benefits. How many of us need to catch up on our rest? What senses other than sight can we optimize? Both tasting - food, glorious food - and listening are ripe with possibilities for me. I’m late in becoming a regular podcast or audio book listener, but dark season seems like the perfect time to lean in.
Darkness also invites us to seek inspiration in ritual, particularly in rhythms of light. I’ve begun to intentionally curate my workspace atmosphere - targeting a desk or table lamp over my morning reflections and planning; increasing overall brightness for busy work and errands; softly lighting the downslope as I wind up a project or workday. Tailoring activity to the availability of natural light and shaping artificial beams to signal my purpose feels responsive to inner rhythms. It allows the both light and dark their time. The Dark is not taking over - it has its place.
But the treasure of hygge, the thing I love best of all in darkened times, is the magic that comes with imaginative escape. As Robert Fulghum wrote in Everything I Need To Know I Learned in Kindergarten “Think of what a better world it would be if we all - the whole world - had cookies and milk about 3 o'clock every afternoon and then lay down with our blankets for a nap.”
With story time.
As a KidLit writer and longtime believer in the power of children’s literature for all ages, I’ve been collecting recommendation ideas for a few months. With so many forms and formats - picture books, graphic novels, introspective coming of age tales, narrative non-fiction, humor - there’s a smorgasbord of creative and cozy inspiration in the section of the library with the short tables and chairs.
I’m sharing a list of newish favorites and those I remember from childhood which accidentally on purpose channel this issue’s theme. Set up your own date with the Dark by exploring the magic of these quick and compelling reads:
PICTURE BOOKS
-This summer I discovered a modern don’t-miss classic that immediately became a favorite. Lemony Snicket’s The Dark (written by Daniel Handler and illustrated by the awesome Jon Klassen) is ten years new (2013) and timelessly fun to read no matter your age. The Dark is your friend - believe it!
-Remember Where The Wild Things Are written and illustrated by Maurice Sendak? The 1964 Caldecott Medal Winner for Most Distinguished Picture Book (based on text and art together) is as satisfying as warm soup…and it’s still hot!
MIDDLE GRADE
- 2017 Newbery Medal Winner for distinguished contribution to American children’s literature, The Inquisitor’s Tale by Adam Gidwitz is set in the 13th century Dark Ages. Fantastical, but based on collected medieval stories like the Canterbury Tales, it treats religious and racial persecution and intolerance brilliantly, poignantly, and with a healthy dose of low-brow humor. The plot is incredibly timely to this era of book bans.
- And in looking for a medieval choice from my childhood, what popped up but the 1994 Newbery Honor Book, Catherine, Called Birdy by Karen Cushman. A Lena Dunham-directed film version recently landed on Prime Video. The Dark Ages humor and spirited young heroine are capital-F Funny and might just make you think.
YOUNG ADULT
-Mystery shrouding secrets and hidden truths is a favorite sort of Darkness. I love plot puzzles and “zillionaire leaves fortune to unsuspecting outsider” fantasy! Upon discovering Jennifer Lynn Barnes’ YA series, The Inheritance Games (NYT bestseller; 2020 Edgar Mystery honors; ), I swallowed four books in a month or two. A reclusive billionaire names a poor, nearly-alone-in-the-world teen as heir, installing her in his quirky mansion with four compellingly distinct, occasionally shirtless dis-inherited grandsons. Clever, page-turning, twisty, with a simmering side of potential romance.
-It’s technically middle grade, but a similar award-winning puzzle mystery on my all-time favorite list won the 1979 Newbery and was a National Book Award finalist. With a diverse cast of characters and another game-obsessed provocateur offering riches in exchange for unravelling clues, The Westing Game by Ellen Raskin stands out among all her weird, compelling, thoughtful books. Try one!
BONUS:
- Because one of the gifts of walking through Darkness is the opportunity to seek and find Light, I can’t leave this theme without mentioning the great Kate DiCamillo, a writer whose short novels feature beautiful language and read like fables, revealing deep darkness, but nevertheless leaving readers with hope. Nearly any of her 25 novels written in the past twenty years will do the trick, but because of its epigraph below, I’ll suggest The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane (2006, pictures by Bagram Ibatoulline) A china rabbit experiences Life, shatters, and ultimately learns Love.
It turns out a lot of great books are about the Dark in some fashion. I hope we’ll find time to embrace its familiarity and surprise, myth and mystery, wish and wonder.
Here’s to cuddling up and digging in! Let me know what the Dark inspires for you!
Oooh! Stephanie, I really enjoyed this--- so much to think about the Dark! I too have The Dark by Lemony Snicket/Jon Klassen-- it is good! I’m trying to rethink my relationship to the dark. As I always feel that it is a time that I can’t do anything. I can’t go outside. It is too dark. It is too late. There is nothing more to be done. But that is soooo not true! You’ve inspired me to want to make the most of the dark! I never really used to be a candle person, but I think they might make for some really good ambience!
Great post, Stephanie--and several of your favorites are my favorites, too...especially The Dark, Wild Things and The Westing Game. I haven't read The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane yet so will have to check that out!