Day Eight: Letting Go of Expectations

I don't know about you, but I often come to my work with big expectations. When I draft something new, I always begin with high hopes. 

How high? Probably too high, if I'm being honest.

I can feel this in my current work. I recently finished a revision on a piece and I can't get over how let down I was by the ending. In my head, the end left the reader with a punch. But on the page...not so much. Not so much yet, that is, because I know that this won't be my final edit. 

Ending a piece can be difficult. Sometimes, I'll write a draft and it will take me months (or even years) to find the ending. Sometimes, I need to end the story sooner. Sometimes, it needs a whole extra thing. 

The point is, I can't fix the ending unless I am actually doing the writing, so agonizing in my head gets me nowhere. Or as the kids used to say, it's gets me nowhere but down.

Of course, it's great to meet your own work with strong expectations. I'm not trying to spend all this energy producing unpublishable drivel. At the same time, if I meet each day's work with the expectation that every scene will be brilliant, the pressure is just too much. 

It makes me want to take a break, or spend all my time reading. 

On really bad days, it makes want to quit.

Which is why, today, instead of quitting, I'm focusing on letting go of expectations. For this one year, I'm going to try (try!) not to expect anything beyond meeting my daily goal of fifteen minutes. 

Fifteen minutes of committed creative practice, every day. 

Julia Cameron, the brilliant artist and creativity guru has an expression for this. She says you have to "let go, and let God." She means stop trying to control your work already. Leave it to a higher power. 

Julia Cameron in New Mexico. Photo credit: Ramsay de Give for NYT.

I'm not a traditional religious believer, but I take her point. My current goal is to sit down, put in the time, and focus on the process, rather than worrying about the product all the time. 

Today, I did my fifteen minutes, and whatever I think about that ending, I'm going to try to set the feeling aside. Until I come back to it. Until it is time. Until then, it's just me and my coffee and the fifteen minutes on the clock. For today, I'm telling myself that is enough.