How and Why to Write Parties

From my December 2024 monthly newsletter (click here to subscribe to get writing tips and first dibs on workshops delivered to your inbox)...

At a restaurant yesterday, a friend and I were seated near a glass-walled room containing a workplace holiday party. When our conversation was interrupted by the coworkers’ cheers and laughter, I glanced over to look through the glass. A woman filling her plate at the buffet had her back to the group. She wore a look of utter weariness and dread, which I bet she replaced with a neutral look, if not a smile, when she turned around. That’s it, I thought. That dissonance between what others expect of you and what you really feel is one example of why gatherings are fertile ground for writers.

There are many other reasons to write party scenes, and I have many thoughts on those. But it's a busy time of year, and you, like Clarissa Dalloway (and her hired help), might have shopping, baking, flower arranging, or silver polishing to get to. Below are some condensed ideas on how large gatherings can serve your story, essay, memoir, or novel:

• They illuminate character by depicting people as they attempt to impress others or fit in—for example, by choosing certain outfits, making preparations, and tailoring their speech and behaviors. These choices show what your character values and who they aspire to be. Even more is revealed by how characters react when their attempts to impress inevitably go awry.
• They advance plot by bringing people together and forcing them to interact. Some characters might prefer not to see each other, raising the probability of clashes. Old grudges might resurface and lead to irreversible actions. New grudges might emerge. Long-lost acquaintances or prodigal relatives can reveal how they’ve changed. Life-changing gossip might be shared. Substances that lower inhibitions might be offered, heightening drama.
• They enhance setting by reflecting not only a place, but also a particular era and social class. And pivotal parties in literature portray characters interacting in unusual environments and under exceptional circumstances. They create an aura of strangeness, if not disorientation. A snake charmer or tarot card reader might raise interest. But even familiar things can seem odd at parties.

Party scenes abound in literature (e.g., The Great Gatsby, Anna Karenina, Mrs. Dalloway). James Joyce’s story, “The Dead,” spans the length of a party. Throughout, the protagonist, Gabriel Conroy, demonstrates his alienation. One of my favorite hints about his character early in the piece: “All the gentlemen, except Gabriel, ate some of the pudding out of compliment to Aunt Julia. As Gabriel never ate sweets the celery had been left for him.” By the end of the evening he realizes, to his astonishment, what that disconnection has cost him. The story’s theme depends on the party.

In Elizabeth Strout’s story, “Basket of Trips,” from her Pulitzer-Prize-winning Olive Kitteridge, Olive reluctantly joins a post-funeral gathering at the home of the widow, a student she once taught in high school. The house is packed with people she knows, though not well. The discomfort and disorientation of the gathering come through in fine observations and impressions: “Some of the fishermen have come over from Sabbatus Cove, all scrubbed-looking. Their big shoulders slumped, they seem sheepish, apologetic, as they move into the living room, taking the tiny brownies with their big hands. Soon the living room is so full that Olive can no longer see out to the water. People’s skirts, belt buckles move past her.” In a kind of reversal of “The Dead’s” ending, by the end of “Basket of Trips,” Olive, despite her previous desire to escape the party, has been the widow’s greatest comfort.

If you haven’t written a party scene lately, I encourage you to try it and find out what strangeness arises.