Friendliness is kindness, laughter, caring. It’s asking, “Did  you have a nice weekend?” It’s telling someone their lunch smells/looks wonderful or complimenting them on their new haircut. It’s smiling at the antics of the toddler in the grocery cart in front of you in the checkout line at the supermarket.

But it’s also telling the mother of the toddler throwing a tantrum in aisle two that this, too, shall pass. Been there, done that. You’re doing fine.

It’s being patient when the person on the other end of phone is having problems taking your order because his computer went down. Your computer never acted up on you? Or it’s someone’s first week in a new job, and they’re fumbling their way through new procedures. You never started a new job and had trouble getting the hang of things?

Friendliness is behaving in the manner you want people to use with you.

One way to show friendliness is to speak kindly to strangers. I don’t mean start random conversations with someone who could turn out to be an ax murder. I mean if someone is wearing an awesome hat, tell her. If you admire a person’s dress, let them know. “I love your hair!” Let people know their efforts have been noticed and appreciated.

This habit has been known to startle people, but then they smile and say, “Thanks!”

My husband has a pet peeve. If someone can’t be bothered to say, “Good morning,” or otherwise acknowledge you–even a “Hi!” will do–he thinks poorly of that person. If someone always greeted him, he maintains a good impression of that person.

I always try to say good morning to the people with whom I work. I also try to say, “Have a nice night,” when I’m leaving.

Being friendly doesn’t take a lot of effort.

This month’s #UpbeatAuthors theme is FRIENDLINESS.

When I think of friendliness, I think about the first time I walked into a CNYRW meeting. I “knew” one person, the president, because we’d been on an Internet group together. This was before email groups and the massive use of the Internet by RWA and its chapters. The president and I had spoken on the phone when I reached out to the chapter. Beyond that . . . I was a stranger in a strange land.

You have to understand. For an introvert, walking into a room full of the unknown is a huge step.

That was 20 years ago. Twenty years since I found my tribe. Twenty years since I made the friends who have seen me through the ups and downs of not only my writing life, but also some personal situations.

The chapter welcomed me.  Without that initial friendliness, I might not have stayed. The friendliness kept me there.