Every so often I like to do a post on expectations. It interests me how writerly expectations have changed over time. Not just expected paths to publication, but the expected results.
Most of us came to writing with certain preconceived notions. Some of those assumptions proved true, e.g., grammar really does matter. Other assumptions not so much, e.g., it’s all about the writing.
“If you expect nothing from anybody, you’re never disappointed.”
―SYLVIA PLATH, The Bell Jar
“Oft expectation fails, and most oft there where most it promises.
―WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE, All’s Well That Ends Well
Some aspiring writers will give up along the way finding the road to publication not worth the hassle, and the odds of success pitiful. While we stalwarts who stay the course usually do so in one of three ways:
By accepting the realities of publishing without letting those realities destroy our drive to share story. (The most difficult path, I think.)
By consciously ignoring the realities and writing for the love of words, irrespective of the state of publishing.
By writing in a bubble, surrounding ourselves with like-minded individuals thereby creating a we/they environment. Indie vs legacy, women vs. men, genre vs. literary, etc. As long as the bubble writer has a support network to reinforce misconceptions and prejudices, they can feel good about their path.
Do you see yourself here?
Have unmet expectations affected how you view
publishing and/or your writing?
Now, for something personal…
In memory of my sweet pup.
In my heart forever.
I’ll meet you at the bridge, good boy.
July 18, 2002 – May 2, 2016
.
DA Cairns said:
I guess I’m on the hard path. That’s my style. I’ll write until I can no longer phyphysically do it because I love it. I remain as ambitious as when I began and completely undaunted. Sorry you lost your furry friend.
VR Barkowski said:
Thanks, David. He will be missed. Like you, I will always write, although not necessarily with an eye to publication. If I had my choice, I’d like to fall under category 2, but ignoring truths is not in my make-up. More’s the pity.
Mason Canyon said:
So sorry for the loss of d’Arty, such a beauty. Sending hugs (for your loss) and a thanks (for your drive to continue writing).
VR Barkowski said:
Thank you, Mason. He was my sweet, loyal little boy, and I’m so grateful for the years we had together, but I miss him terribly.
Polly Iyer said:
First, sorry about the pup. Looking now at Bogie, I can imagine how you feel.
As for my feelings about writing/publishing, I’ve experienced all three of your scenarios and continue to do so, depending on the day, the state of my mind, and the state of my writing. Along with those realities, there are emotions: confidence, insecurity, jealousy, anger, happiness, and more. Being a writer, like all other creative endeavors, comes down to who you know, how many conferences you attend to get your name out there, and if you’re a good schmoozer and self-marketer. At times I don’t think it has anything to do with talent. Are there any fixes to that? Not that I’ve found.
VR Barkowski said:
Thank you, Polly. You know how much I loved my little guy. Maybe it was a blessing we weren’t together 24/7 at the end. I’m not sure I could have handled it.
There seems to be an increasing emphasis on self-promotion. Interesting when you figure the majority of writers are introverts. Mystery even has its own conference circuit. Personally, I found the experience of attending a conference and having authors campaign for award votes disturbing. Shouldn’t I be expected to read the book before casting a best novel vote? Yes, I do think talent sometimes takes a backseat.
Southpaw, HR Sinclair said:
I’m sorry for your loss.
As for expectations, I’m still getting pumped up so to speak so I haven’t had to let anything go yet.
VR Barkowski said:
Thanks, Holly. Change is inevitable and not necessarily a bad thing, right? So maybe over time our expectations aren’t necessarily lowered or raised, but better tailored to our writing environment. That’s my argument and I’m sticking to it. 🙂
Susan Swiderski said:
I’m so sorry for your loss. I know that cute little fella left a hole in your heart, but he also left you with a lot of good memories. Still, it’s soooo hard.
I don’t know that I ever had huge expectations about my writing. It’s just something I’ve always enjoyed doing, and the emails of appreciation and good reviews I’ve received are payment enough.
VR Barkowski said:
Thanks, Susan. The little guy taught me so much about loyalty and unconditional love. I’ll always be grateful, and he’ll always be in my heart.
Best answer ever! If writing gives you and your readers pleasure, what more could you ask?
Roland Yeomans said:
When I think of you, I always picture you with d’Arty. Our furred friends teach us what unconditional love is, don’t they?
Being of a fantasy bent, I went into writing thinking that anything was possible … even best-seller status. The logistics of publishing taught me that even a book that everyone would love and recommend to their friends will die on the vine if it could not find its way into the national spotlight.
Such is the nature of life. So like the tiny blade of grass that is working its way up through the cracks in the sidewalk, I am continuing to write, publish my Kindle, print, and audio books. The sunlight has yet to find me, but I keep on working my way up.
May the days ahead hurt less. Always your friend, Roland
VR Barkowski said:
Thank you, Roland. I know you understand how painful the loss is. But you’re right, the sadness can’t take away the joy he brought into my life.
In my opinion, the biggest lie fed to aspiring writers is that it’s all about the writing. We do them a huge disservice. I’m a believer in dreaming big but rooting our expectations in reality. 🙂
Pat Hatt said:
Sorry for your loss, never easy indeed. But sure he had a wonderful life with you and that is all that matters in the end.
can be the best writer in the world, but if all you can do is write, you aren’t going to get far. I just do it to get it out of my head, the rest be damned lol
VR Barkowski said:
Thanks, Pat. And an excellent point. Writing is only a tiny piece of the puzzle.
Liz A. said:
I’m so sorry for your loss.
I don’t think the bubble is a bad place to be. At least, it’s a good place to write. No distractions. Then one must venture forth and figure out what to do with the finished novel.
I guess I disagree with your categories. But what do I know? I’m unpublished and working towards having a publishable manuscript. (Not quite there yet.)
VR Barkowski said:
Thanks for the kind words, Liz. The drawback to the bubble is that while the writing can happen here, publishing can’t. This causes resentment, particularly among cliques of genre writers who, when thrown into the world of publishing, feel they’re treated like second class citizens.
emaginette said:
I write. I’m not necessarily disciplined, and that’s the where some may see failure. I don’t care. I write for me first and the rest of them later. I haven’t found success at my door, but to be honest I don’t always answer the door if I’m busy. 🙂
Anna from elements of emaginette
VR Barkowski said:
I don’t find discipline as much of a problem, as I do focus. There are days I just can’t get a decent sentence on the page. Unfortunately, those days are becoming more frequent. Wait… is that the doorbell?
Denise Covey said:
Aw, so sorry to see dear d’Arty is no longer with you. So cute. Was lovely to see the personal pics. Love the Sylvia Plath quote:
“If you expect nothing from anybody, you’re never disappointed.”
―SYLVIA PLATH, The Bell Jar
One of my favourites is ‘If you aim at nothing, you’re sure to hit it.’
And yes I share a writing bubble with some dear blogger friends.
Denise 🙂
VR Barkowski said:
Thank you, Denise.
The blogging bubble is enormous. That’s why I love it. Writers of every ilk. A myriad of genres and paths to publication with writing as the common ground. Awesome! 🙂
Mark said:
When it comes to writing expectations, I try to hope for the best and prep for the worst.
And so sorry to hear about your dog, stay strong.
VR Barkowski said:
Sometimes hard to do, but that’s great advice, Mark.