I would like to suggest that in these trying economic times when we are doing our best to supplement our food storage, and put aside a little cash or coin, we should also endeavor to fill one another's compliment quota. I personally like to have at least a two-year supply of compliments on my mental hard drive, nice things people have said to me that I can pull out in moments of discouragement or self-doubt. Even better is to have a seven-year supply, in case you run into seven lean years. I got a wonderful addition to my compliment storage a few days ago.

Almost ready to finally deliver the manuscript for a humorous novel I have been working on for over a decade, the adversary sent out the troops—the pessimist platoon and the confidence killer corps. “Are you sure it is really ready? What if it isn't really as good as you think it is? What if people don't buy it? All those people who have been telling you how much they like it, aren't they all relatives and close friends?”

We always think of writer's block as something that keeps an author from writing, but we also often stumble over our writer's blocks on the way to delivering the finished product. Just as I felt overwhelmed with self-doubt, the compliment cavalry came riding up.

The Facebook e-mail said that Horace J. from Portland , Oregon , wanted to add me as a friend. I don't know this guy. Who is he? What's the connection? Then I saw that it said we had three friends in common. I knew that would give me a clue. I clicked and saw that the three friends we had in common were Tim Bete, Gordon Kirkland and W. Bruce Cameron—three nationally-known humor writers.

Tim Bete runs the Erma Bombeck Writers Workshop and wrote “In the Beginning there were No Diapers.” (It is worth reading just for the chapter on how to change a diaper in an airplane restroom.) Gordon Kirkland is a hilarious writer from Canada and spoke at that conference a few years ago. I ended up seated next to him at one of the banquets and we shared a few funny stories. I have two books of his, signed by the author. One says, “Susan, we'll always have Dayton .” The other says, “Thanks to your last story, I still have bits of salmon stuck in my nasal cavity.” That may not sound like high praise to some, but to me it was a major contribution to my compliment cache. W. Bruce Cameron has written “8 Simple Rules for Dating my Daughter” and my personal favorite, “How to Remodel a Man. ” (Combined with a pink tool kit, it makes a wonderful shower gift.)

Anyway, as far as I could tell, he asked me to be his friend because he thinks I'm a funny writer. Carol Burnett, Bob Hope and Me. Okay, maybe not quite, but Horace J., whoever he is, thinks I'm funny. He will never know (except that I plan to send him a link to this column) how much I needed that boost on that day.

In the book I just finished, I have created a character with a big heart who comes into money and I detail all the things she does for people as a result. I think when people are struggling financially there are many of us who say “If I had, I would give.” The beauty of giving compliments is that it doesn't cost us anything. When was the last time you gave someone a compliment they could pull out of their memory bank at a low time and rehearse to themselves and get a little lift?

A few years ago one of my stepsons and I were talking. He saw a cute girl and said, “I've heard that if you work hard on your mission, God will bless you with a beautiful wife.”

Seizing the opportunity, I said, “Your dad must have worked really hard on his mission to have been blessed with two such beautiful wives.”

Even quicker on the draw, he responded. “I understand he worked really hard the first half and then he kind of slacked off.”

I am always willing to admit when I have been bested and gave him the laughter his quick comeback deserved. That became a favorite story of mine to tell. One day I was visiting in Provo with my husband's friend, Jeff. I had stopped by their house to ask if I could change clothes because I had a wedding reception to attend. Dressed for the wedding, I thanked him for the use of his home for a pit stop. He smiled and then he gave me one of those good-for-a-year compliments. “Susan, you look like the wife of a man who worked very hard on the second half of his mission.”

I still remember Brother Bateman. He was the high council representative for our ward when I was a young teen-ager. I didn't have much confidence at that age. I had outdated cat eye glasses and hadn't yet figured out how to tame my naturally-curly hair into a flattering hairstyle. He took the time to write me a letter after a short talk I gave in a church meeting telling me what a great job I had done. I think it is safe to say that if Brother Bateman had not written me that thoughtful letter, I would not be writing this Meridian column today. He helped me see that I had a talent for writing and speaking. I would light up whenever he came to our ward after that. He was my high councilman. I didn't live on that compliment for a year. I have lived on it for forty years.

Horace J., you made my day! When was the last time you made someone's day?