Holding Out for a Gimel

I was recently invited to a Temple Tots Chanukah Author Visit for my picture book, UNTIL THE BLUEBERRIES GROW. There was, of course, the requisite apple juice in tiny cups, bits of challah, and prayers, as well as an acoustic guitar singalong on the carpet. The song? A jaunty little tune, with a refrain that went something like, “Keep spinning until you land a gimel.”

Keep spinning until you land a gimel.

I turned this around in my head. Yes. Yes. It was simple yet brilliant advice.

Especially as it pertains to writing.

Let me explain.

The song celebrates the popular Chanukah game of Dreidel, which involves a spinning top (the dreidel/sevivon), bearing four Hebrew letters: Nun, Gimel, Hay, and Shin, which reference the miracle of Chanukah, Nes gadol haya sham—A great miracle happened there (in Israel the shin becomes a peh, for po, which means here. A great miracle happened here.)

A pot of tokens or better still—chocolate Chanukah gelt (coins) sits in the middle of the players. The rules are simple. Spin the dreidel and…

Nun: You lose

Hay: You take Half of the pot

Ben and Zayde sit beside the light of the glowing candles. (Illustration by Sally Walker)

Shin: You put a piece back into the pot

Gimel: Winner takes ALL.

A gimel is a win.

So…Keep spinning until you land a gimel?

It means keep trying, or in the words of a famous Disney clownfish, just keep swimming. Until you reach your goal.

There exists the now ubiquitous advice—Life is a marathon, not a sprint. Meaning, as Dr. Angela Duckworth describes in her TedTalk on grit, that life is about stamina and persistence.

This is most certainly the case with writing.

Writers don’t have the thundering crowds along the racecourse to shout words of encouragement and offer colorful hydrating drinks. We usually have a few cheerleaders–our family, our friends, our treasured critique partners–and bottomless pots of coffee. Sometimes, however, there are less cheers, or they grow faint, or are drowned out by assertive cries of self-doubt.

Sometimes—I’ll even say often, we don’t finish the first marathon. Even the second or third. We peter out halfway through because life takes over, we’re distracted by competing responsibilities or circumstances, or we’re just…tired. Occasionally, we go so slow any movement or progress is almost imperceptible. In darker moments, we throw up our hands, toss our sneakers into the our closet, and quit.

But the thing about writing, like everything in life really, is that the only way to NOT succeed is to stop trying.

To stop swimming.

Gimel

To stop spinning if you land on Nun.

Chanukah commemorates both the miraculous victory of a small band of Judean warriors (the Maccabees) over their powerful Seleucid oppressors, as well as the small cruse of oil that, against all odds burned brightly for eight nights.

Stamina. Perseverance. Grit.

There are no guarantees, of course, and there will always be people who find more success. Because Dreidel, like life, is a game of chance.

I’m no statistician, but I’ll bet that even if it takes dozens of games (and a few plates of latkes), eventually, if you keep playing, you’ll land on gimel.

So. Your turn. Take a spin. And Happy Channukah!

For more on Chanukah, visit PJ Library’s Hanukkah Hub

For Chanukah book recommendations click here.

2 Responses to “Holding Out for a Gimel”