Last year I recorded a podcast with author Tsh Oxenreider. As we talked about submissions and rejection, Tsh mentioned the idea of “it’s just business, it’s not personal” not being an entirely helpful or true way to look at the writing life, at least in her experience. “It’s business and it’s personal” is more accurate, she said. It’s personal because not only has she invested in what she’s created, a piece of writing grows out of who she is.
This is absolutely spot on in my experience, too. An author has hope for her work, wild hope that it will connect with an agent or an editor who believes in it as she does. That wild hope must also run through the writing itself. The creative act cannot hold back. It cannot be guarded or careful or tame. For me, both writing and the writing life must be all in.
Being all in has its risks. There is the possibility of rejection. (Not just the possibility. In this line of work the reality of rejection is always present.) There is the possibility that even books that sell won’t go the way you hoped or planned. Elizabeth Gilbert says “creativity asks you to enter into realms of uncertain outcome.”
Your job is to create. You don’t get to decide the rest.
Uncertain outcomes mean sometimes you’ll be hugely disappointed. It’s important to let yourself acknowledge this, to let yourself grieve the work that didn’t have the future you’d hoped. This is hard and painful and so disappointing. But I rather do this than not hope at all.
Recently a friend told me she’d read Tony Hillerman’s memoir, Seldom Disappointed. The quote comes from something his mother told him: Blessed are those who expect little; they are seldom disappointed. He carried this idea into his writing life, a place he had huge success.
It’s interesting that just days after this conversation I started re-reading Anne of Green Gables and in it found Mrs. Hillerman’s advice, almost word for word, this time in the voice of Mrs. Rachel Lynde.
It’s Anne’s response to Rachel’s words that I prefer:
“You set your heart too much on things, Anne,” said Marilla with a sigh. “I’m afraid there’ll be a great many disappointments in store for you through life.”
“Oh, Marilla, looking forward to things is half the pleasure of them,” exclaimed Anne. “You mayn’t get the things themselves; but nothing can prevent you from having the fun of looking forward to them. Mrs. Lynde says, ‘Blessed are they who expect nothing for they shall not be disappointed.’ But I think it would be worse to expect nothing than to be disappointed.”
If I hold back hope I hold back heart, the very thing my writing needs.
Writing is intensely personal. Even when we don’t write about ourselves, we write deep feelings. We put our creativity and hard work on the page. How can we NOT take rejection personally? I hold out hope with the idea that with each word I write or revise, and with each workshop I take, I become a better writer. That’s my hope.
This exactly.
A wonderful post, Caroline. And I agree with Anne. I am the perennial optimist. Always hoping!
I probably am subconsciously quoting Anne again, but life without looking forward to things would be a bitter thing.
If everyone took Mrs. Hillerman’s (and Rachel Lynde’s) advice, there’s be few babies and very little great art in the world.
A wonderful post, Caroline. And I agree with Anne. I am the perennial optimist. Always hoping!
Caroline, lovely post with a message I needed to read. Thank you for inspiring us to continue with hope.
I wrote this at a time I was grieving a book that had been on submission for almost three years. I had given up on it and was gently trying to set it aside. In the meantime, I asked my agent to send it one place more. A few months later, that book sold.
There are no promises, but the all-in-heart is essential to creating our best work, even when it hurts.