My 2018 resolutions were a bust - I cannot spin it differently (much though I might wish). Since I set both conservative and optimistic goals, I expected to at least reach the moderate goals. Alas, I barely scratched the surface of my intentions. I only excelled at things I do naturally with ease, reading and writing. I wrote every single day of 2018 and read half a dozen books on writing.
My first goal was to attend a writing conference, and while I fulfilled that goal, it left me more distraught than encouraged. I netted three manuscript requests, but ignored one because criticism received at the conference convinced me that the manuscript required further revision. The other requests (for my Probability Code manuscript) led to nothing; although in one case, the editor who requested it then reviewed it as if submitted for her romance imprint instead of her YA imprint.
Every goal aimed at reaching the elusive end of publication. Yet, I didn't really pursue it rigorously. Like many would-be writers, I enjoy talking and reading about writing far more than I enjoy putting my words out there for critique. Emotionally, I allow minor setbacks to block my efforts. Despite reading a book on writing resilience, I did not stay determined.
My biggest failure? I intended to send out ten queries, and I didn't send one. Not one. My gears are always spinning with the idea that the work requires more tweaking, deeper revision. Thus, I am revising three or four manuscripts but never querying. I didn't even glance at the one manuscript I intended to revise (my travel memoir - no longer on my radar).
The biggest accomplishment? I broke out of my self-imposed mold of novel writing, daring to attempt something new. In penning a short story called "Stolen for Good," I attempted and succeeded in writing a surprise ending. I even submitted it to a contest. While it didn't win (it was a highly competitive competition - Glimmer Train), I learned much.
Still, I believe in nothing wasted. Even when tempted to consider myself a hamster on a wheel, I am practicing the trade and putting my butt in the chair, regardless of outcomes. If anything, I think I should take my eyes off the outcomes and simply focus on enjoying the ride. When I allow discouragement over lack of publication to cloud my vision, I lose energy and enjoyment in the writing. Viewing the success of others, I grow discouraged and wish to quit trying. As Theodore Roosevelt observed, "Comparison is the thief of joy." I spend too much time naval-gazing. To accept that I'm a work in progress, I need Jon Accuf's reminder, "Don't compare your beginning to someone else's middle."
For now, I am hard at work researching a fascinating topic. My focus has shifted from fiction to non-fiction, something I never envisioned. I will continue to pursue 2 daily pages of free-association writing and at least a half hour to an hour per day in other writing. I will seek more titles on the craft because I can always stand to improve. After a writing sabbatical and 5 weeks of tithing my talents, I'm ready to recalibrate my efforts, to focus more on the joy of writing than success or failure. I want 2019 to be a year free of assessment. Indeed, I'm more than ready for my creativity to blossom for creativity's sake alone. To hell with platform and publication. Instead of discouragement, I want to regain delight in my writing. To do that, I must stop seeking validation and value the work for myself alone.
2 comments:
Wendy, my thoughts about writing have gone in very similar directions as yours. I almost feel like I've failed in every other aspect of my life, so if I actually really, REALLY try and then also fail at writing, what do I have left? But just writing and not sharing won't help me achieve my dreams. I *DO* also think I am stuck with just wanting to please the editor in my head and that person is brutal.
All of which is to say, I loved reading about what you did accomplish with writing. Onward and upward, friend!
Amy - Thanks for the encouragement to press on. My writing group leader said I'm too hard on myself (we are usually our own worst critic, aren't we?). While I love being in a writing group, it is often intimidating because those other writers manage to spin their words eloquently while I sit back month after month with nothing to share because I'm busy editing longer works. It's hard to get at the heart of a work in ten minute monthly increments. Still, I think I'd be willing to chuck my work entirely, if it meant your work was pushed into a wider audience. You, my friend, have a tremendous gift with words! I ached as I read your recent post about your son leaving home (that is quite an accomplishment to reap within me while I'm currently wondering how I will get through the next four years with my teenager and often wishing to SEND him to military camp). If you ever publish a book of your essays, know that I will happily make that purchase and consider it a favored book on my shelf.
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