The last 18 months have felt, at various times, like a sprint and a marathon but when it comes down to it, I probably wouldn’t change anything about my writing journey. It brought me here, to the other side of a dream I’ve held since I was a child. I have written not one but three books of which I am truly proud, and which I now get to watch make their way into the world and (hopefully) into the hands of readers. I have also learned a lot – about the craft of writing, about myself, and also about life in general. Reflecting on the latter recently, and talking to friends engaged in their own creative endeavours, I thought I’d share some of those takeaways here, both as a record and as a means of continuing the conversation. Whatever journey you are navigating, I would love to hear your perspective and thoughts.

Here are some of the things that the past 18 months have taught me:

You Are Not the Exception (Probably)

I consider myself a pragmatic person with a generally realistic outlook on life and my own abilities. Even so, there’s a voice that seems to always pipe up — whenever I am about to embark on a new project and read up on others’ experiences with similar projects to prepare myself — and whisper, “but maybe it will be different for you.” For example: when I was starting the query process last year, I read all the do’s and don’ts that I could get my hands on, along with first-person accounts, tips, and success (and failure) stories galore. A common refrain I heard/read was “most writers query their book too soon” (aka before it’s ready/sufficiently polished). Having done several rounds of edits, including beta reader feedback, I felt confident that my book was ready. Guess what? It wasn’t. I fell into the same trap as many, perhaps most, writers new to the process do.

I’m not sure this is something I could have avoided, because it’s a lesson best learned through trial and error, but it’s emblematic of a broader theme. When confronted with (anec)data, many of us have a tendency to look at the outliers, rather than the mean, on the assumption that the exceptional cases will be more relevant to our own experience. They’re (probably) not. And the sooner we can move on from this mindset, the quicker we can begin to make real progress – because progress requires realistic expectations.

Here’s another example I see a lot in writerly spaces online. People look to outlier examples – a writer whose first book became a runaway bestseller right out of the gate, or a writer who managed to sell a 700-page debut manuscript to a publisher – and decide that they, too, can achieve the same result and promptly make that their goal. And while, in principle, they can, statistically, they probably won’t. And when they fail, there is a good chance that they won’t keep going and try again … which guarantees that they won’t explore their own potential to the fullest.

Realistic expectations might seem depressing in the short term — and nowhere near as motivating as shooting for the moon — but they can keep you going for the long run. And good things always take time. It’s okay to dream about the moon. Just keep the feet firmly planted on the ground.

Discipline Beats Desire

Manifestation has to be one of the most misunderstood concepts in wide circulation these days. We have been sold this idea that wanting something bad enough will make that something happen. It won’t. Desire is a spark, but it isn’t fuel for a long journey. Manifestation works when it involves action. To manifest a dream or a goal, it’s necessary to act in alignment with it. There is rarely a simple step to any big goal in life; the path is made up of millions of steps – values and priorities reflected in choices that become actions. Almost always, these steps will be impossible to map in advance. The dream is the compass; each step you take, guided by it, will bring you closer to the destination, whether or not it seems like it in the moment.

This is where discipline comes in. Consistent action – putting one foot in front of the other, day after day and week after week, whether or not you can see a clear path to the finish line – is the magic of manifestation. Life is complicated, there will be setbacks and obstacles. Discipline keeps you going when things get tough. It does not require massive effort or perfection, though, only consistency and determination. Fall down, get up again. Fail, try again. Do a tiny bit, but do something. Action compounds over time; a lot of small steps can cover a lot more ground than a heroic leap once in a blue moon.

Desire waxes and wanes. Discipline keeps going.

Find Joy in the Process

One of the major existential tensions of human existence is the lack of control over the world around us. We have free will, but what does that mean when we can’t bend the world to our will? I don’t pose that question because I have an answer to give you – scores of much cleverer folks than me have attempted it, and I’m no philosopher – but simply to illustrate the fundamental challenge that we all have to grapple with: try as we might, we cannot control the outcome of our endeavours when those endeavours involve outside forces. That definition encompasses most of the big goals that people tend to pursue in life.

The locus of control, if such thing can be said to exist at all, is to be found in the process — the things we do — not the outcome. And that’s why it’s important to enjoy the process, as much as possible. That doesn’t mean giving up on the (desired) outcome; hold on to it, but hold it lightly and be prepared to accept that, in the end, it may look different than expected. If it does, don’t count that as a failure. Nothing invalidates the joy of the experience itself; no one can take that away from you — unless you let them.

Up to the moment of publication, writing is a deeply personal and solitary process. On publication, the work leaves your control entirely. To only derive satisfaction (or dissatisfaction) from what happens to the work once it’s out in the world means letting other people decide not only its objective worth (if there is such a thing), but its worth to you. Don’t leave your joy in other people’s hands. External validation should be the gravy, not the main course.

Waiting Is the Hardest Part — and Unavoidable

Waiting is hard-coded into the writing process, much as it is in any long-term endeavor. I thought I could bypass a lot of it by foregoing traditional publishing in favour of self-publishing (where I get to set my own timelines) but I’ve quickly discovered that’s only partially the case. Writing takes time, some of which is spent waiting. Waiting for time to pass so I can edit a draft with fresh eyes. Waiting for feedback from beta readers and my editor. Waiting for the book cover, waiting for the layout — waiting and more waiting. And then, when the book is finally ready for publication, the biggest wait of all kicks off. Waiting for readers to find your book, to read it, to (hopefully) review and share it.

As someone who finds comfort in taking action, waiting for things to happen is HARD. It’s a forced reminder that outcomes in life are (mostly) out of your control. Thanks, I hate it! The last 18 months have been a long, continuous lesson in making peace with that, and with waiting. If there is a secret to making the waiting feel less torturous, I haven’t found it yet. Sorry, I wish I had something concrete to share. All I can say is: hang in there! Success is never guaranteed, but it’s more likely to come to those who wait — and keep plugging away in the meantime.

At least, that’s what I keep telling myself 😉

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