Acknowledgements and End Credits

Lately I’ve spent a weird amount of time flipping through books to read their acknowledgements pages.

According to People Who Know Such Things, the thank-you lists authors often include in their books provide a good place to find names of literary agents ― including, I hope, one who might like the book proposal on which I’ve been feverishly working for many weeks.

I’ve always mostly ignored acknowledgements pages. Turns out, they can be pretty doggone interesting and sometimes even qualify as legit tearjerkers. Who knew?

The acknowledgements page is such an interesting anomaly. How often do we see, concisely and right there where we can find it, a recounting of the work that went into the creation of any one object?

Movies have their end credits, of course, as do video games. (I learned just now that the credits for “The Return of the King,” from the "Lord of the Rings" series, last nearly 10 minutes. But don’t quote me on that because I didn’t fact-check it. Also, those credits include a nod to the movie’s “cockroach wrangler,” which is fantastic.)

Such recognition is rare, however. Most people who create most things never get the chance to show the world a list of folks without whom the created thing would not exist.

Can you imagine how different the world would be if everything came with an acknowledgements page?

Say I go to the store to buy a turkey. With my receipt, I’m handed a list of all the people who contributed to that poor, cold bird ending up my shopping cart. The people who raised the grain the turkey ate. Who pumped the water it drank. Who constructed the fencing that kept the turkey from flying away. (Turkeys can fly, right?? I feel like I should know that.)

If we actually gave credit where credit is due, everything around us would come with a list of People Who Made This Possible. The bushes outside my window that give me such pleasure as I toil at my desk represent the labor of people I will never know. The keyboard beneath my fingertips, my faithful yellow mug stained with tea rings, the sage-green blanket around my shoulders in my chilly sunroom ― how many people gave of themselves so these things could exist so I could be warm and productive and comforted?

The lists would be overwhelming. Then again, there are worse things than being overwhelmed with appreciation. I wouldn’t mind giving it a try.

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All my prowling through books’ acknowledgements pages got me thinking who I might include in that section of my book when it’s ready to be published. Big thank-yous to several people who are behind me whole-hog will come easy and be a joy to write. But the longer I think on it, the more I realize how many, many people played a part in the creation of this person who wants to create this thing.

I am who I am because of the people I have encountered in my life, from the fifth-grade teacher who wrote on her painfully shy student’s report card that I had a pretty smile (which makes me cry even now, as I write about it forty-some years later) to the oral surgeon who was so sweet and so kind, as he yanked my broken tooth out a few weeks ago, that I couldn’t help but want to be a better, stronger person.

Had one person in my decades of living not said that one thing, not shown me kindness that one time, not stood up for what was right and inspired me to want to do the same, I would not be entirely me.

The people in your past make you you.

And the people whose lives you touch ― you make them them.

We create one another. What I do and say impacts you, and what you do and say impacts someone else. Your smile or kind word might not completely change someone’s life. But it becomes part of them. 

You get added to their end credits.

What we do matters. I don't know about you, but that sure makes me want to go find someone to be nice to today.

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End note No. 1: I typed the word “acknowledgement” six times (now seven) in this post, and I spelled it correctly EVERY TIME. I’m proud of myself for that. It’s always been one of my problem words. Nailed it, baby!

End note No. 2: This Thanksgiving, as my family eats our poor turkey, we are going to share our “thankful-fors” from the year. My list is going to include the people who read stuff I write. That’s you. Thank you for giving me a reason to do a thing I love.

End note No. 3: I looked it up…wild turkeys can fly, and actually pretty fast. Just not very far or very high. You go, turkeys!

Want to leave a comment? Tell us one thing for which you are thankful that you think nobody else will mention. Or tell us one person you would include on the acknowledgements page of your life's book. Or, what the heck, tell us both.

Happy Thanksgiving, friends!