Written by Mia Alaniz
“[The] way I like to keep going… is to keep all my senses open to story.” — Tayyba Kanwal
Every January asks us the same quiet question: how will you begin again? For some, it’s through New Year’s Resolutions observed thoroughly and persistently. For others, it’s in smaller, more private choices, such as choosing to pay attention to the blossoming world around you or returning to the smaller joys in life from spending time laughing with your loved ones to enjoying a cup of tea before a busy work day. Creativity comes to us in many ways—sometimes, it starts in fragments, in the moments you almost overlook, or in the decision to pause and stay a little longer with something that caught your eye. Hosted by WLT’s Program Director, Sarah Renee Beach, January’s Third Thursday brought together writers Tayyba Kanwal, Ashley Robin Franklin, and Bo Hee Moon to reflect on the topic of writing toward hope in 2026. Instead of sticking to strict restrictions for the new year, each writer described their unique ways of staying creative throughout the year.
For Tayyba Kanwal, writing begins with a commitment to paying attention. She frames inspiration as something we encounter daily, if only we allow ourselves to pause long enough to recognize it, reminding herself to “keep all [of her] senses open to story.” Anything that can make her pause long enough to look again becomes a signal worth following. In this way, creativity becomes just as much about honoring the stories that are asking to be seen and refusing to ignore those “moments that are speaking,” as it is about chasing and experimenting with new ideas. That attentiveness extends in her thematic concerns as well. Reflecting on her recent work, Kanwal notes that while it can be tempting to focus on the larger systems at work in the stories, “it’s really the people who are interesting.” Her stories often circle back to finding agency within the constraints of the system and really figuring out “how to play the game.” On her relationship to hope, Kanwal admits, “I believe in happy endings… not in a cheesy way,” but through a sense of triumph that emerges naturally, where, “maybe not necessarily [the] main character, but somebody in there is triumphing.” Kanwal’s emphasis on attention adds a layer of depth in her work that allows hope and possibility to surface beyond the page.
On the other hand, Ashley Robin Franklin, whose work often explores horror and the uncanny, embraces duality. Darkness, they say, requires moments of light to fully resonate with the audience, insisting that even in genre spaces that lean towards the bleak, they “need a little hope.” Humor, playfulness, and even silliness aren’t distractions from serious storytelling—sometimes they’re essential to it. This philosophy is what carries Franklin into their creative life as well, where play exists both on and off the page, whether putting on a movie with friends or doing “a very silly craft that’s messy and not for anything.” Their work often returns to familiar landscapes, such as the endless palm trees that line the skies of South Texas, specifically the Rio Grande Valley, where Franklin is from, grounding even their most unsettling narratives in identity. Franklin also emphasizes the importance of representation, consistently including queer main characters and exploring themes of self-discovery that can resonate “both in a positive and in a really negative way.” Duality becomes a structural part of Franklin’s works—horror and humor, fear and hope, isolation and community, all existing side by side.
Bo Hee Moon approaches her writing through tenderness, particularly in her exploration of grief and identity. In her recent work, Birthstones in the Province of Mercy, Moon writes letters to her birth parents, a process shaped by the realization that her birth mother had passed away, requiring her to “reimagine [her] longing for [her mother] and what that kind of experience could be like.” Through this process, Moon discovered “the gifts of vulnerability and intimacy through …absence,” accessing something “really tender and genuine,” which surprised her. Her writing is deeply intertwined with emotional movement; she reflects that while writing through her grief, each poem gave her a “new sense of clarity,” allowing her to hold both sorrow and growth at once. This balance was what shaped her understanding of hope, as she tries to connect to “the present moment but also the potential for freedom in the future.” Outside of writing, Moon returns to small, sustainable joys—laughter and art. When asked to choose a guiding word for her writing this year, she chose “magic,” capturing the beauty in transformation, where writing turns the pain of the past into the hope for the future.
Beyond their individual practices, all three writers return to the importance of community. Whether it was through local events, creative gatherings, or virtual connections, these spaces offer acceptance and belonging. To be surrounded by people who care about the same work, who create environments of inclusion and excitement, is to be reminded why the work matters at all. In this sense, writing is never entirely solitary—it is sustained by the people you share it with. What emerged from this conversation was a ubiquitous feeling of hope. Hope can look like a triumphant ending, a moment of laughter within the darkness, or the transformation of grief into beauty. It can be intentional, or it can arrive unintentionally. There is no correct way to begin a new year creatively—only the choice to remain open.
Because maybe hope isn’t something we arrive at. Maybe it’s something we practice noticing.
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Continue to support our authors by purchasing their recent releases. You can check out Ashley Robin Franklin’s The Skin You’re In, Tayyba Kanwal’s short story collection Talking With Boys (Immigrant Writers), and Bo Hee Moon’s Birthstones in the Province of Mercy: Poems here.
For more insight into writing and publishing, please join the Writers’ League of Texas on March 19 for March’s Third Thursday: “Time Traveling: Flashbacks & Flashforwards in Storytelling.”