Expectation and Reality

Expectation and Reality

There’s thing in our heads called a brain. It’s crazy and it does a million things and once and somehow is at the core of who we perceive ourselves to be.

One of the things this brain does all the time is process potential future events.

This of course is a purely survivalist practice, as we once were animals living in the food chain. Now this process has become a part of things like when should I get onions and not wanting to go to some social obligation later and how hard it’s going to be to write that next scene I want to get right.

We all have expectations. For everything. Even if we try not to.

Expectations often do not match reality. Because expectations are just some scenarios we have made up in our heads-ones that often aren’t even strongly based on our past experiences but rather our hopes and fears.

For Example,

Expectation: Man, writing this next scene is going to be hard. There’s a lot of detail and content I want to impart in a compact amount of writing. What choices am I going to make for this character, for this reaction? I have to make sure the details line up with my greater goal for the story and the preceding and following plot.

Reality:  Sit down in my chair, open Scrivener. Catch up on where I am in the flow of the scene. Double check my outline to see major points. Start typing. Keep typing. It goes and goes. Hey, I already know all of these things that I wanted to do. I’ve had this in my head for days. This is pretty smooth.

Despite the fact that that is my experience sitting down to right 19 times out of 20, STILL sometimes I procrastinate sitting down to write, daunted by fear or laziness.

That’s because my brain is lying to me.

Expectations are crap. Get rid of them. And by that I mean, don’t let them control your actions, unless it’s controlling them for the better, of course. 😀

-Evan

 

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Why Am I Writing?

Why Am I Writing?

No, this isn’t some foray into self-doubt. The question is semi-rhetorical.

The purpose of asking myself this is simple: It’s worth remembering why. It’s only been a few months since I started writing full-time but I think this is something very, very easy to forget with everything that has changed.

In life, and in writing, you need to get back to center sometimes. So… Why am I writing?

The money is great. But it ain’t about the money. Making a living from my book is pretty sick. It’s nothing short of a dream. But if it was about the money, I’d hate writing in short order. It’s like turning your favorite food you eat everyday into poison. I’d rather work some other job and write for fun and secondary income.

Getting recognition is awesome. Having people tell you how much they love the story and appreciate your success is nothing short of every writer’s dream. But you can’t live on that alone. If there’s anything that life’s taught me, it’s that happiness should never be dependent on the opinions of others. It can’t be, really. Because they are not you.

Don’t get it twisted–having readers tell me they loved the book and can’t wait for the sequel, it’s unreal. It’s beautiful. Truthfully it is probably a majority reason of why I write, why most writers write–to share their stories with others. But it is not the core, the seed that grows in all writers.

The real reason I write is this: I love the stories I create. I love to see the world and the story become real for me (and in turn, for readers).  I write because I’m selfish, because there is a story inside me I want to see, I want to record it permanently, write it in stone and make it something more than what it is–just words on a page.

I write because I get inspired. Because I read other books and remember great stories and video games and movies and they fill me with this joy that wants to come out in some story of my own. I write because I want to improve, I want to become an even better storyteller, because I want to inspire others to think about their own lives and write their own stories the way other stories inspire me.

That’s why I do this. And that’s the shit I need to remember when I have days that I just roll around my apartment saying “what’s the point?”

You already know the point, asshole. Just walk back to center and find it again.

-Evan