We’re all entitled to our Titanic!
Yours truly at sunset on April 14, 2012, on the deck of the 100th Anniversary Titanic Memorial Cruise, in the middle of the North Atlantic (photo credit: my mom)
Today is the 110th anniversary of the sinking of the Titanic.
Well, technically, it’s tomorrow morning, April 15th, at 2:20am, but I’ve always dedicated the 14th to remembering the famous, ill-fated vessel, for two reasons:
1. The ship hit the iceberg at 11:39pm on April 14th, effectively sealing its fate, and
2. In America the 15th is our tax deadline, which makes the day depressing enough without adding to it the weight of the Titanic (52,310 tons, to be precise).
As my family and friends will tell you while rolling their eyes, I have been obsessed with the Titanic for a very long time—years before the film came out, I might add.
(I did see it three times in theaters—the third time in a partially flooded theater after a hurricane passed through my hometown in Texas.)
I own close to fifty books on the subject, I hold a vigil every April 14th to commemorate the lives lost, and I even saved up for a few years to travel on the 100th Anniversary Memorial Cruise in 2012.
Yes, we traveled the exact route of the infamous maiden voyage.
Yes, we ate food from the original menus, dressed in period fashions, and attended Titanic lectures with other fanatics.
No, we did not hit an iceberg, see an iceberg, or smell an iceberg.
But wowwwweeee was I in my element! The little girl inside me—the one who, on her first-ever library trip in the first grade, after wandering away from her classmates toward the nonfiction section, found a Titanic book and fell in deep and abiding love—couldn’t get enough of the stories and history I heard throughout the trip. Plus, it was just plain fun to be around people who were as serious about it all as I was!
And that brings me to the main event of this post (no, this was not merely an excuse to write about the Titanic, although that certainly had something to do with it): I am still the curious and passionate learner I was decades ago, but I can’t remember a time in adulthood when a topic has fascinated me as much as the Titanic fascinated me as a kid.
Many of us have seen our kids absorbed in something for an extended period of time, whether that something be outer space, dinosaurs, bugs, clocks, trains, unicorns, or witches (my own daughter’s true love).
After all, perhaps the primary job of a kid is to learn. As Lee Murray notes in Fatherly, “kids who concentrate on one thing so intensely are not only learning a lot about the content, they’re also learning about the process of how to learn.” Pretty important life skills there.
But how come kids get to have all the fun, huh? I want to get lost again in a world entirely unknown to me, dammit! I want to read all about sea anemones—for weeks! Then I want someone to take me to an IMAX film about those decadent stinging polyps, sign me up for Cnidaria camp, and outfit my bedroom in glow-in-the-dark sea anemone decals so I can stare at them until I pass out.
Of course the main problem is, unlike kids, we adults lack the luxury of time. It’s less that our penchant for learning and fascination has waned as we’ve aged, and more that our minds are crowded with responsibilities, our hands with never ending chores, our phones with ever-changing content.
And perhaps an even bigger obstacle than the absence of time is the absence of focus. In today’s roadrunner world, with our eyes and fingers darting from one headline to the next, it’s really hard to immerse oneself in a topic for any extended period of time, kids or no kids.
But for us writers, that excuse can’t be good enough. Like kids, one of our main jobs is to learn: about new topics and fields of study, sure, but also about humanity, in all its complicated and nuanced forms. We must find ways to focus on what fascinates us.
(Look, I’m not saying it’s easy! After all, I had to pay a couple thousand bucks to get on a ship where I could focus on nothing but the Titanic for a week. And that was before I had a kid.)
The way I see it, we’re busy busy busy, sure. But we deserve to step away from this whirlwind world, from the madness of the 24-hour news cycle, and focus on what we’re head over heels in love with this month—even if it’s just for 10 or 15 minutes before our heads hit our pillows at night.
So, in honor of the Titanic, my first true obsession, I’m challenging myself this month to dedicate 15 minutes a day to learning all I can about a topic that fascinates me. I will turn off my phone or hide in a closet if I have to, but by god, for those 15 minutes, I will be absorbed.
And because it’s April, springtime, the month of Earth Day, and I’m starting a garden, my topic will be (drum roll, please)...
Composting.
(I assure you. I am thrilled.)
Expect a check-in from me in one month’s time. I will share how my focus-journey went—and some fascinating tidbits about the art of turning trash into treasure!
And before signing off, I extend this challenge to you, writer-parent friends. Leave your topic-of-choice in the comments below. Let’s hold each other accountable to our fascinations this month!
Sláinte,
Erin
This is a bona fide forearm tattoo of the Titanic. I cannot remember the owner’s name, but he was a true fanatic from Belfast. If anyone knows him, please reach out so I can give credit where it’s due!