I’m really happy to have joined a new collective created by Climate Film Festival that’s bringing together sustainability professionals with filmmakers to raise the bar on and expand opportunities for climate storytelling. As someone who has one foot in each of these worlds, I’m so excited to be part of this new professional group and to help craft and fund these stories that drive action.
Yesterday I went to the Essex Market coffee hour for our first in-person event and attended an excellent panel about climate documentary making. As someone who studied how to use storytelling to drive more climate investment from family offices, I felt like I was in just the right place at just the right time because financing was a key part of the conversation. I heard a number of filmmakers talk about the challenge of finding financing for their climate films, especially with the current situation in D.C.
What filmmakers need to consider is that private funders don’t want to just fund a movie. They want to fund systemic change, especially when it comes to protecting and restoring the health of the planet. Filmmakers need to show how their films, and the platforms and supports they are building around their films, will get viewers to engage in creating meaningful change. That change needs to be measured and reported on.
Is that asking more from filmmakers? Yes. Is it asking them to be skilled business people, entrepreneurs, and community leaders on top of their filmmaking expertise and beyond the creation of the film? Yes. Isn’t making a movie already a Herculean task? Yes. Is that a challenge? Yes. It’s also today’s funding reality.
You aren’t just making a movie, not anymore. You’re building a movement, and that movement is what’s fundable with a movie being one cornerstone of many.
I was saddened to hear about the passing of Robert Redford this morning. When I was an undergrad at the University of Pennsylvania, he came to campus to explore a film and storytelling partnership between the university, the West Philadelphia community, and his Sundance Institute. I remember seeing him from a distance and immediately noticing that there was a light about him, a kind of magical aura that emanated from his smile and ease of being.
In addition to championing filmmaking and storytelling, he was also incredibly passionate about the environment. He was a lifelong advocate for nature, beginning his activism in the 1970s by using his celebrity to promote causes like protecting air and water, and later founding the Redford Center to use storytelling to expand environmentalism. He spoke at the United Nations about climate change, was recognized by TIME magazine as a “Hero of the Environment” in 2007, and served for decades on the board of the Natural Resources Defense Council (NRDC). The NRDC’s Southern California headquarters in Santa Monica is named The Robert Redford Building to honor his long-standing support for the organization as a board member and environmental activist.
While we remember his outstanding career as an actor, director, writer, and producer, I’ll continue to hold him up as an example of someone who knew early on that storytelling was the key to protecting our planet and used his talents to further that mission. May we all carry forward his remarkable and beautiful legacy.
I finally went to see Hadestown on Broadway. I know, I know. What took me so long?! After seeing it, I truly have no idea because it’s a transformative theater experience. A huge thank you to my dear friend, Dan Fortune, for taking me.
This was a very special performance because all 5 of the leads are brand new to the show. Music legend Kurt Elling, Jack Wolfe, Rebecca Naomi Jones, Morgan Dudley, and Paulo Szot knocked it out of the park, and the audience literally shouted with delight.
Yes, it’s all the things you’ve heard. It’s beautiful in every way, heart-filled, and filled with fascinating twists and turns woven between mythology and present day.
It’s also an incredibly effective climate story – the call to protect nature to reverse the harmful impacts of climate change on the food supply, mental and physical health, politics, and the economy.
It’s an immigration story, a migration story, a working class story about the power of generosity, community, and our own voices to lead change, to create a world where all beings are happy, healthy, and free. It’s a story of hope found in difficult, dark times and turning that hope into empowerment that leads to action. And art, specifically music, as a lever for all of that change.
Reminiscent of the call and response of spirituals with the essence of New Orleans, it’s a show that is of-the-moment even though it’s been on Broadway since 2019. Go see it. Cheer, clap, sing, get swept up in the beauty. And then carry all of it out into our world that is crying out for change. We are the ones we’ve been waiting for.
The Stories We Eat: Narratives to Shape Stakeholder Behavior and Policy for Sustainable Food Futures
Narrative Power: Using Digital Media to Convey the Voice of Future Generations and Nature in Sustainability Storytelling
From Self-Interest to Shared Benefit: How to Adapt Finland’s Exemplar of Public Trust Amidst Power Asymmetries in U.S. Businesses
I’m so grateful for this opportunity to learn and engage with these incredible people in one of the most sustainable communities in the world. I’m most looking forward to spending time with my professor, mentor, and dear friend R. Edward Freeman, who is one of my heroes and the founder of the seminar. As the originator of stakeholder theory that transformed business ethics, his work has fundamentally changed how businesses and business leaders around the world operate. He’s the reason I went to Darden and he changed how I see the world and my role in it. I’m honored to have had his support and encouragement for all these years.
It’s going to be an incredible summer of learning. I’m excited to experience all of it and to see where it leads! Nähdään pian, Finland!
Me holding Emerson Page and Where the Light Leads on top of Arthur’s Seat, an ancient extinct volcano that is the main peak of the group of hills in Holyrood Park in Edinburgh, Scotland. June 2024.
Creativity is a lifeline for me. I’m so grateful to have writing as a spiritual practice that offers me the chance to bring my whole self to the page, and I’m grateful for every kind word, review, and note I’ve received from all of you. You raise me up.
In the author’s note of Emerson Page and Where the Light Leads, I wrote, “Since Emerson emerged in 2017 in my first novel, Emerson Page and Where the Light Enters, our world has been turned upside down. The pandemic, climate change, conflict across the world—all of it is cause for anxiety and distress. It’s okay to not be okay with any of this, to be scared in a world that seems so far out of our control. But what’s also true is that there is so much love, light, wonder, and beauty in this world, and in you. Emerson’s story is a mix of the joys and difficulties that are part of every life. She rises, falls, and rises again. And so do we.”
I believed that when I wrote it on February 29, 2024, and I believe it today. If ever there was a time to create, celebrate, and elevate love, light, wonder, and beauty, it’s now. Right now.
So, on this first birthday of Emerson Page and Where the Light Leads, this is my book birthday wish for all of us: that we will continue to create and love, that we will live out loud, that we will express our joy, without fear and without reservation. As Mary Oliver so beautifully wrote in her poem, Don’t Hesitate: “Life has some possibility left…Joy is not made to be a crumb.” Please, make your joy the whole damn cake. Today and every day.
These two photos are from that same trip as the photos above. On the left, I’m at Castlerigg Stone Circle in Keswick, England, a town in the Lake District. On the right, that’s a photo I took on the Isle of Skye, Scotland. Both June / July 2024.
“Authoritarianism can’t destroy storytelling and imagination.” ~Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie
“Literature provides a respite.” ~Jennifer Egan
“Women are the greatest international power there is.” ~Burhan Sönmez
I consider myself incredibly lucky that I was able to attend “The PEN and the State: The Role of Novelists in Times of Crisis” – the opening night event for the 2025 PEN America World Voices Festival. In its 20th year, the festival celebrates international literature and writers. The event featured three of my favorite authors – Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie (Dream Count) from Nigeria who now resides most of the time in the U.S., Jennifer Egan (The Candy House) from the U.S. who is also a professor at University of Pennsylvania (my alma mater), and Burhan Sönmez (Lovers of Franz K.), a Kurdish author from Turkey who is also the President of PEN International and a Fellow at University of Cambridge (also my alma mater). The event was expertly moderated by Clarisse Rosaz Shariyf, PEN America interim Co-CEO and Chief Program Officer of Literary Programming.
While the event immediately acknowledged the difficult times we’re living in with words and language under attack, these authors refused to let that distract them from their critical work as novelists. They are moving forward. “As writers, we carry the responsibility for humanity,” said Burhan. “Every novelist creates a [new] language in their book.” Chimamanda agrees. “I will never give in to despair and self-censorship, and I will bear the consequences. The job of literature is not to be safe.” In response to an audience question, Jennifer reflected on what we, as writers and neighbors, can do now. “Keep literary culture strong. We need to stop scrolling and start reading, deeply. [As writers,] our voices are our livelihood. We have to be willing to listen to others and to speak out.”
In line with the title of the event, the authors reflected on the specific role of writers in these times as history is unfolding before our eyes. Burhan mentioned when horrific acts have occurred in earlier times, the news was delayed and could be obscured. With today’s technology, we bear witness to events happening across the world in real-time. He told a story about the relationship between Turkey and the U.S. “In the Mid 20th century, Turkey’s right wing had a slogan, “Make Turkey little America.” Now America is becoming a bigger Turkey.” He’s not wrong.
His perspective of time and living through societal difficulties was fascinating. He is a Kurdish writer raised in Turkey who then lived in exile after sustaining severe physical injuries was fascinating and also heartbreaking. In his childhood home in Turkey, they spoke Kurdish, but Turkey had outlawed that language for 100 years.
Chimamanda’s perspective of as a woman raised under two dictatorships in Nigeria also provided a nuanced view of U.S. politics. She is somewhat of an outsider as a legal U.S. resident with Nigerian heritage who grew up immersed in both countries’ cultures. She is attracted the personal stories shaped by politics. “I’m interested in politics as a human thing. Fiction is not a history book or instruction manual. It reminds us we’re all human. As writers, we want to write something beautiful. Our only responsibility as writers is to write what we want to write and make it beautiful.” She acknowledged that she wants the reader to have fun while reading her books and they often hold humor even while exploring dark subjects. “I’m drawn to novels where I learn while having fun,” she said. As a speaker, I found her to be incredibly funny!
Jennifer shares this view of literature with Chimamanda. She recounted her surprise when her literature students at Penn didn’t want to talk about politics at because reading and writing fiction gave them a break, an escape, from their lived experience. This resonated with her as a writer as well. “I want the reader to have fun reading my books. When that’s my focus as a writer, and if I keep that focus then the things I care about find their way into the story.”
She shared some background of what brought her to writing. “For me, it is a vocation though not the one I always wanted to pursue. Growing up, I wanted to be a surgeon and then an archaeologist. I wanted to look inside. Inside people and inside the Earth.” Then in college, she took off on a backpacking trip across the globe, and that’s how writing found her. “Writing made every experience I had complete. It gave it meaning. It became and is a spiritual practice for me.” Being a fiction writer has the same end goal as the goal of a surgeon and an archaeologist. “Fiction is the only art form that lets you be inside the minds of others. When you look at a picture, you are naturally on the outside looking in. As a reader, you are inside the minds of the characters.”
Burhan didn’t read a book in Kurdish until he was 35 years old and living in exile. He made the decision to write his most recent novel in Kurdish in honor of his ancestors, especially his mother. However, Kurdish was a language he only knew spoken so he had to study Kurdish grammar to write the book. “When I got injured, my health was very poor for a long time. I went through treatment for 8 years. I couldn’t read for 2 years. All I could do was watch TV and makes notes with pen and paper. That’s how I came to be a writer, through my injuries.”
Chimamanda echoed Burhan’s pull to writing from her own history. “My ancestors gave me the blessing of writing, telling stories, being curious, and not minding my business. I did not come to writing through reading as many people do. Writing came first for me. My love for beauty, for meaning, and the human connection brought me to writing fiction.”
These authors also framed the specific value of fiction in crisis as opposed to journalism and nonfiction (which they have also written.) “In nonfiction writing, there is a certain level of self-preservation,” said Chimamanda. “In fiction, you are free. There is an openness that doesn’t exist in nonfiction. A radical honesty that nonfiction doesn’t have. With fiction, you can say what has not been said because it’s not you [saying it]. It’s the character.”
Burhan quoted author Gabriel García Márquez and the Turkish concept of “Panjeta” meaning the 5th way. (My apologies if I misspelled that word – I couldn’t find it anywhere online!)“With a novel, we open a new window, a new way of seeing,” he said. “Gabriel García Márquez said, ‘Literature never enters the house of truth through the front door.’ As novelists, we use the backdoor to illuminate the truth.”
The evening concluded with one final question from the audience: How do we take risks right now and not self-destruct? The audience collectively held its breath.
These author did not flinch, nor hesitate. “Being afraid is human,” said Chimananda. “I’m afraid but I will still speak…If you are afraid, learn civics. Even if you think you know civics, study it. I have lots of friends who think they know civics and they are still asking, ‘Can he do that? Is that legal?’ Study and stay informed.” Jennifer nodded in agreement. “This is a moment to support every cause you care about in any way you can…Insist upon the importance of literature and those who embrace it in the face of everything that’s happening.”
On Sunday afternoon, I wrote “The End” on the first draft of my new novel. While my first two novels are young adult fantasy adventure, this one is historical fiction.
In December 1941 four friends graduate from an all-women’s college and seize new career opportunities in a world forever changed by war. I was so happy to sink back into the world of these four friends. The struggles they face are, unfortunately, highly relevant to the times we’re living in today. With themes of empowerment, being on the right side of history, speaking out against injustice, and the love story of female friendship, they’re determination made me more determined, too.
I’m hoping that it will be the first book in a series. The subsequent books will share the very different journeys that each of these women take in a new world order emerging before their eyes and how their friendship will pull them through.
This story began as a screenplay in 2020. It was a quarterfinalist in 3 international screenwriting competitions and received great feedback. Since then, most of my writing has focused on getting my second Emerson Page novel published and writing my master’s dissertation for University of Cambridge. With those projects complete, I returned to my historical fiction screenplay in January of this year.
It turns out that writing a screenplay is akin to having a very detailed outline for a novel:
All the dialogue is there.
The scenes and their sequence are set.
The characters and their relationships are developed.
The plot is charted.
I wouldn’t say going from a screenplay to a novel is a slam dunk, no-effort-needed project. As someone who dreads a blank page, the screenplay was my map, a guide that helped steer my writing sessions and make them productive.
I’ll take a short break from this story (to finish the first draft of another novel that’s also nearly done!) and let the first draft build up some dust so I can return to it in a few weeks with fresh eyes. Then I’ll dive back in to begin the work of editing and rewriting.
I much prefer to edit and rewrite rather than write a first draft. I no longer have any blank pages. Every time I sit down to write, it will be to refine and improve what I already have. I’ll immerse myself in extra research (something else I absolutely love to do!) and I’ll add much more detail, polishing the story one word at a time. Editing and rewriting is gratifying work because it’s all about making the story shine.
I’m hopeful that this new novel will do well in the query process and that I’ll be able to find a literary agent — a goal I’ve had for many years. For now, I’m celebrating this huge milestone of completing the first draft. It only gets better from here!
Here’s a reminder I know I need every day, and maybe it will help you, too — At any age and stage in life, you can:
– Start over – Start again – Try something brand new – Be a beginner – Learn – Grow – Change – Evolve – Say goodbye – Say hello – Forgive – Ask for forgiveness – Pause – Reflect – Discover
You are allowed to do all those things, and many at the same time. You are never just one thing or one way. Who you’ve been, what you’ve done, and where you’ve been are prologue to who you will be, what you will do, and where you will go. The past is merely setting the scene and dressing the set for all the choices you will make and the adventures you will have that lie ahead.
Each year I choose a word to live by. In 2024, my word was vulnerability. In 2025, my word is rebuild. To rebuild and do work with our whole heart is to be utterly vulnerable. The two go hand-in-hand. Our greatest work begins once we’re able to be completely vulnerable, giving voice to our deepest dreams knowing we may never reach them and trying anyway because it’s what we’re called to do.
I’ve been thinking about the Mary Oliver quote, “Listen, are you breathing a little and calling it a life?” Sometimes, I’ve done exactly that because I didn’t feel ready, or I was missing something I thought I needed to move forward. I have notebooks full of ideas and dreams that I want to get to “someday”. I’ve decided that someday is today, and this year I’m going to be open to all those words I’ve written for years taking shape. I don’t need more time, money, experience, or training. I need to give my dreams everything I’ve already got. Some will work out and some won’t, and that’s okay. I’ll be a better person for giving those dreams a fighting chance to become real.
2024 often felt like a dark season for me. Maybe it was for you, too. I tried to climb out of it and into the light until I was exhausted. So, I sat in the dark. It wasn’t comfortable but it was necessary. The darkness always has something to teach us, and this is what it taught me: we can only find our way out of the darkness and into the light if we journey together.
My 2025 will primarily be about building community, seeking out advice, trying something, iterating, and trying again, supporting others, and lifting them up as I rise. I’m most interested in being the most generous person in the room, the best listener, and the most collaborative partner. Our world needs so much love, kindness, and healing, and we have to be there for each other, especially when the going gets tough.
2024 taught me that progress isn’t permanent. It needs protection. 2025 will test our resolve, values, and strength. We’ll be called to have courage in the face of intense adversity. What’s on the line is bigger than any of us can face alone; we have to face it together. In 2025, you’ll find me rebuilding bridges and longer tables, publishing writing that ignites curiosity, wonder, and a sense of belonging, and creating spaces, products, and experiences that provide safety, comfort, and care for all beings. I hope you’ll join me for this adventure because I’d love to share it with you.
Each year, I choose a word to live by. In 2024, my word was vulnerability. I admire vulnerable people and wanted to get better at it.
I knew Phineas, my soul dog, was nearing the end of his life. He was struggling physically and mentally. On January 28th, I helped him cross the rainbow bridge. It leveled me. I had a hard time recovering. The grief is so deep because the love is so great. I asked for and receive so much support during this time. I’ll never stop missing Phin; I’m just learning how to better carry the grief. In 2024, I supported more animal charities and had my first foster dog success story to honor his memory.
My second Emerson Page novel was released in May 2024, and I’d decided to do my first-ever book launch party. That was scary! I had visions of being in a room alone and no one showing up. I’m grateful to every one of you who showed up and packed the event. It was even more special than I ever dared to hope for.
My dissertation for my Master’s in Sustainability Leadership at University of Cambridge was due on July 29th. I’d set myself an enormous task by choosing a topic I didn’t know anything about. I had no idea where or how I would get the data, and I’d never written a full piece of academic writing by myself. I wrote about how storytelling can be used by climate entrepreneurs to connect to family offices and enlist them as partners and investors. Even my advisor was unsure how I could get it done since I had no previous connection to family offices.
I could’ve chosen an easier, safer, and more comfortable topic. I chose to do work that needed to be done to protect nature. I gave it everything I had, conducted 50 interviews, and built a new practical storytelling model for climate entrepreneurs to pitch themselves to family offices. I’m grateful to everyone who participated and supported me. This dissertation is a beginning, not an ending, and I’m excited to see where it will go in 2025.
After my dissertation, I dedicated myself to the presidential election, canvassing, and taking on social media, voter registration, phone banking, and text banking responsibilities. I’m continuing to learn to use policy to fight for the causes that matter to me.
I wanted to get better at having honest conversations and leave nothing unsaid. This was uncomfortable and difficult for me because I was taught early on to be a grin-and-bear-it kind of person. I’ve gotten very good at balancing radical candor and radical kindness.
I worked hard to prioritize joy, peace, and happier-ness. I spent more time in nature and looked after my health. I challenged myself to learn Italian and improve my Spanish. I spent a lot of time on my friendships and building community – the greatest gift.
2024 held some stumbles, mistakes, and disappointments. I kept showing up and leaned in to curiosity and wonder. I feel stronger and braver, physically and mentally, ready to put it all to good use in 2025.
Christa Avampato 