Hope, Reality, and the Balancing Act
By Grace Wynter | November 9, 2018 |

Photo by Ron Smith on Unsplash
I’ve been thinking about hope a lot lately. As it pertains to the world in general and writers in particular. Even the most cynical among us hold out hope for something. Hope is what gets us up in the morning. It compels us to keep working on our manuscripts for years. It whispers to us to reactivate that OKCupid dating profile. For the tenth time. Because maybe this time will be different. (Spoiler alert: it wasn’t.)
But sometimes hope can feel like a “kick me” sign you’ve pinned to your own back. A few years trying (and often failing) to crack this industry is all it takes for many of us to begin losing hope that our work will ever succeed. So what’s a writer to do? How do we hold the hope of getting an agent, or publishing a bestselling novel, or making a living as a writer, up to the harsh reality that over 96% of manuscripts are rejected, and most self-published books never sell over 150 copies?
The answer is, it’s a balancing act.
Without hope, we would stop submitting to agents, we’d never self-publish, and we wouldn’t retreat into our writer spaces and create the words, day in and day out. But we’ve also come to understand that perseverance, discipline, and hard work are all part of the reality of what we do. So while hope might be the thing that first inspires us to get behind our keyboards, understanding the reality of this business is what keeps us there.
Hope gives us enough fortitude to submit to a new round of agents or contests.
Reality reminds us to spend a little more time honing our craft before we submit.
Hope makes us look on in awe at authors like Angie Thomas and Andy Weir, and cross our fingers and toes that maybe our novels will be received as well and as widely as theirs were.
Reality teaches us to prepare as though that will never happen.
Hope sustains us on the days we receive rejection letters or get bad reviews.
Reality reminds us that this too shall pass.
I’ve come to believe that this balancing act is an essential part of the creative process. We need hope as much as we need reality. We need to believe in the unbelievable while preparing for the practical. We need to know the statistics about rejections and sales, because we need to learn how to do better, be better. And if that’s not hopeful, I don’t know what is.
Over to you. How do you balance hope and reality in your writing life?
Hi, Grace:
So nice to see you here, and how appropriate to receive this message of hope on the same day Michelle Obama’s memoir comes out.
The funny thing about hope — it’s the virtue that dare not say its own name. The minute we begin to feel hopeful the sneaky hand of cynicism reaches up and grabs us by the scruff, whispering, “Don’t you dare…”
And that’s because hope and fear are two sides of the same emotional construct. Pema Chödrön has remarked (paraphrasing) that to conquer fear we must also surrender hope. By that she meant that both fear and hope project us into a future we do not know and cannot control. Obviously, this is a Buddhist perspective, anchoring mindfulness in the moment. But I think there’s something to it, even for a more western disposition.
We need to make sure our hopes are not mere pipe dreams. We need to anchor our hopes in the reality of our talent and our prospects. And we need to be clear-eyed and perhaps even cold-blooded in this assessment.
But after all of that, we still need to believe that the next step is not just possible, but worthwhile, even promising. And I think that depends largely on our own hearts — if we are honest, brave, and open to others, the next step is always worth taking. And then the step after that…
Thanks for sharing with us. Miss you!
Dave, I think your words are just what I need to hear today. I’ve been struggling with managing hope in several areas of my life, and your words are a reminder that the next step is always worth taking. I hope everyone who reads my piece today, takes the time to read your comment as well.
Hoping to see you at the next UnCon, maybe? See what I did there? :-)
Some really good thoughts here, Grace. I don’t focus much on hope but I do focus on balancing. Loving what you do makes all the difference, so loving the writing is essential for me. As far as book sales, readership, rejections, negative reviews, and the general frustrations and disappointments that come along, I find we need to maintain realistic goals. ‘Believing in the unbelievable’ has never served me. But believing in yourself as a good writer is very productive.
I agree, Paula. People always look at me a little funny when I say I don’t buy into, “If you build it, they will come.” It’s a great, hopeful sentiment, but it’s one that leaves many creatives disappointed because they believed that the work ended when they finished creating whatever it was they created. And they’re heartbroken when very few people “come.”
Thanks for sharing!
Grace, thank for this. I so relate. My philosophy on my writing (and on my life) has always been, don’t expect anything and you’ll never be disappointed. Some say that’s cynical; I say it’s self-preservation.
I’ve been told that my thoughts on hope are cynical, but I’m with you; It is about self-preservation. What’s the old saying? Expect the best, but prepare for the worst. I think that extends to our writing careers, as well.
Thanks for commenting, Densie!
Wonderful post, Grace.
NEVER. GIVE. UP. Life is much too short to toss your dreams out the window. For any reason.
Hugs,
Dee
Thanks, Dee! Giving up isn’t my DNA, no matter how much I might feel like doing such that. I’m guessing it’s in yours, too. :-)
Compelling, truthful post, Grace.
Fear has been boring a hole through the heart of my hope. Fear, that the mongers of evil have been feeding our country. I know we’re supposed to have nothing to fear, but fear itself, but I find that’s not working for me. I’ve decided if I’m real about it I have to accept that the fear is there, and PERSEVERE.
PERSEVERE.
I wrote that word with the definition smack on both the center of my bulletin board and the center of my brain, recently.
PERSEVERE.
Verb.
Continue in a course of action even in the face of difficulty or with little or no prospect of success.
It’s not a cure, but it keeps me moving forward instead of just hanging on in spite of everything.
I agree that perseverance is key. Years ago I heard a story on NPR about a woman who loved to read but was slowly losing her eyesight. She came up with a plan on how to handle her daily activities, including cooking from the cookbooks she loved so well. On some days she was so depressed about her diminishing sight, she wanted to go back to bed. The way she kept going was to remind herself to follow the plan, not the feeling. I’ve reminded myself of that on those days where everything seems hopeless; follow the plan, not the feeling.
Great post, Grace – much appreciated!
I agree with David’s comment that hope and fear are two sides of the same coin, in the same way as joy and sorrow — or character and plot!
I find that hope is indeed what keeps me moving forward, but I’m grateful to have moved past a place of “blind hope” –where I had no grasp of the reality that awaited the 96% of rejected manuscripts.
With perseverance and discipline we grow to know the reality, and out of that comes “tempered hope,” where we keep our dreams measured to the reality.
Which I propose is BETTER hope. Or at least it feels better to me. Where I know the actual odds and thus keep working at honing the craft, finding ways to see for myself where I succeed and where I fail — not so much waiting for the rest of the world to decide and tell me.
Thanks again! Jodi
I love the concept of “tempered hope.” It’s a great way to describe the way I’ve lived the past couple of years of my life. Thanks for reading and posting, Jodi.
Norman Fischer wrote a poem in which he had this line:
“Sitting with alert anticipation, expecting nothing…”
These past few weeks have been intense, both on the public stage and the private. The shooting at Tree of Life Synagogue here in Pittsburgh happened two days after my dad and my brother-in-law both had surgery. In fact, my dad and I were in the car (his surgery was in and out, though I was his chauffer for two weeks) and saw the county SWAT vehicles on their way to Squirrel Hill and wondered what was going on. Then we got home and found out.
Some good things happened Election Night, though not as many as there might have been. My brother-in-law remains in the hospital with a lengthy rehab ahead of him, while my 88-year-old father resumes his job as delivery driver for Panera on Monday.
While driving my dad around I did a lot of reading while I waited for him, and made notes for my new WIP. We FaceTimed with my nephew in Iraq and missed a call from his twin who was on a 12 hour leave in the midst of Ranger training.
Life is messy. Sometimes chaotic. Often heartbreaking and hilarious – occasionally on the same day.
Is it hope that keeps me going through it? Or dogged stubbornness? I’m not really sure. I can’t say I am always able to expect nothing, though I try to let go of expectation when I can.
I try to keep learning, keep loving, keep myself open to whatever happens. I guess that’s my version of hope.
Thanks Grace! And I’d love to say I move through my life with grace – but maybe it would be more accurate to say I move through life with Grace as my friend – that’s pretty darn good!
Great to “see” you here, Carol. I’ve had the privilege of spending some time with you, and I know for a fact that you move through life with amazing grace. Our friendship is just the cherry on top of all of that. I’m glad your father is getting back into his routine, and I’m wishing the best for your brother-in-law. I hope in the midst of all of this, you find some time to take a little time, and hope, for yourself.
Beautifully stated Grace, and so true. From your picture you seem awfully young to have come to grips with this reality! But Kudos that you have and thanks for stating this for ALL of us who struggle with this balancing act!
Thanks for the compliment, Carol! I’m older than I look, act younger than I am, and sometimes feel like I’ll never grow up. One thing I forgot to include in my post (because I wrote it at midnight -LOL) is that this writing community and its members give me lots of hope. Thanks for reading and commenting, Carol.
As an incipient author who, on a daily basis considers if he has what it takes to complete his first manuscript and get it published, hope has proven to be an inviolable ingredient in the process. Now maintaining hope-filled consistency as you forge ahead can be tenuous at times. We all have days that are better than others.
There is a line I recall from a song from Carman, a singer/songwriter which states:
“The desire is the confirmation the destination is there.”
Now I realize just having a desire does not preclude us from practically and effectively applying ourselves to the task at hand, but we sometimes inadvertently confuse desire with motivation. Whereas desire may be associated with emotive considerations that are more based on how we feel, motivation is normally the impetus, an accelerant even, which propels us to actually take the ground our desires have previewed.
With all this in mind, I am encouraged, because success and failure may not necessarily be two sides of the same coin. If I have given my utmost; poured my heart into a manuscript and offer it up for review and critique, then if it is rejected, it does not necessarily make me a failure. You may not have been successful in acquiring an agent or the opportunity to be published, but you have expanded your vision and borders as a person; however uncomfortable or discouraging it may feel at the time.
You take away lessons learned and retune your focus, just as some of these comments have advocated. Conversely your qualifier for success may differ from someone else’s. If you do happen to be accepted and have your writing published, your “success” may come at the expense of what stirred your heart to write in the first place. Fame and fortune (which in and of themselves are not bad things), may cause you to sacrifice that singular element; that modality of self, which allowed you to create your seminal work in the first place.
If we are graced with the societal definition of success, are we willing to protect and nurture the innocence of not knowing how we and our future creative works will be received? Shakespeare was considered to be well thought of in his time. He did not dilute his works for the sake of acceptance and died with less acclaim and notability than his works currently offer in our timeline. He became famous long after his tenure on earth ended.
Thank you Grace. Your post and the associated comments have been a great encouragement to me.
Stay hopeful folks. Stay true to yourselves.
Thank you for reading and sharing your insight, Stafford. This community is also a source of hope and encouragement for me, and I’m glad you’ve found the same here. And thanks for the wonderful advice: stay hopeful. Stay true.
No matter how rough things get in my stories, I always end it with hope.
No matter how rough things get in my novel, I always end it was hope for the future of the characters.
No matter how rough things get for my characters, I always end it with hope for their future.