With Waiting Can Come Unexpected Joy
For those of you who subscribe to JEK Writes, you’ve perhaps noticed that it’s been longer than usual between my posts (perhaps adding an extra layer of meaning to the post title?). I can’t promise that this post will bring you joy, but I do hope it brings you some sort of insight, whether joyous, unexpected, or otherwise!
Since my last post, I traveled to Iceland for a flash fiction retreat with Nancy Stohlman and Kathy Fish. It was a trip I had signed up for over a year ago, in the fall of 2022, shortly after the death of my 17-year-old dog Rosie and after several years of caregiving (first for my mother, who died in December 2020, and then for Rosie). I’d had almost no break since 2019 and was exhausted.
Although I had to wait a year for the trip to Iceland, I didn’t think much about it in advance, aside from practical matters, which is unusual for me. I’ve always been impatient—especially as a child—and recall often expressing that impatience: I can’t wait for Christmas. I can’t wait for school to be out. I can’t wait for summer. I can’t wait until…
Then, the thing—whatever it was—would happen, and it would be over so quickly that I’d sometimes feel let down. What just happened?
But up until the day before I left for Iceland, I was still finishing up work, responding to emails, and doing all the things I needed to do to ensure a smooth transition from work to vacation mode. There was no “I can’t wait for…” mindset because there was too much else to focus on.
The result was a vacation of pure joy, one I went into without expectation since I hadn’t thought much about it; I hadn’t fretted about what it would be like, who I would meet, or even what I would do. The joy I experienced wasn’t necessarily unexpected, but my level of engagement in the experience and my lack of anxiety (which typically follows me around like a shadow) was unexpected and exciting. I found myself being fully present, and it was wonderful.
Write, Wait, Revise, Wait, Submit, Wait
Writing is often a slow process. Like a trip scheduled a year in advance, it’s not an instant-gratification kind of activity. You write, wait, revise, wait, submit, wait, get rejected (or maybe accepted), and do it all again.
Because I’m typically quite impatient, when I first started submitting my writing to literary journals with regularity in 2020, I found my restless self there on the sidelines saying, “I can’t wait until I hear from…” or “I can’t wait until I get an acceptance.”
I don’t do that as much nowadays. My waiting has become more passive, like it was for my Iceland trip. It’s something that’s happening in the background while I live my life, focus on other things. I send stories out and don’t think much about them or what the response will be.
Sometimes the response is sweeter, more unexpected, that way.
Sometimes We Just Need Fresh Eyes
One of my favorite things to do in my free time is work crossword puzzles. There are several that I attempt, but The Washington Post daily crossword is my favorite. The puzzles get progressively harder as the week goes on; thus, Monday’s is (supposedly) the easiest, while Saturday’s is the hardest. (Sunday’s puzzle falls into a slightly different category.)
Over time I’ve gotten better and faster at working the puzzles, but, of course, I occasionally get stuck. I used to check a letter or answer if I got stuck—the old impatience kicking in (I must solve this now). But then I discovered that if I set the puzzle aside for a bit and return to it later, sometimes the answers I was stuck on will come right to me. For the harder puzzles, I often work in 10- or 15-minute chunks of time. I’m often stunned at how much clearer some things are with just a bit of distance.
This is the same tack I use with writing. That time away from a piece often makes a huge difference. I used to “finish” a piece and immediately send it off to a journal—it’s brilliant, I know it is! I’d get an inevitable rejection and read the piece again and go, “Oh, yeah, this piece was not ready.”
Now I try to exercise patience, taking more time with my work, enjoying the process of writing and revision—engaging in it. Letting the story take shape however it will—not forcing it. If I “finish” a piece, I leave it alone for at least a day or two, but often much longer, and then reread it after that respite. When I return to a piece, especially a piece I may have been “stuck” on, I often find that the distance has given me new insight, new ideas, and new excitement.
Often, we just need to see something from a different angle or at a different time of day. Our brains work differently at different times. Because it can be difficult to assess our own work anyway, taking that step back can be crucial. It helps us look at our own work more objectively.
This particular post is one I started drafting in June, but it never seemed to be saying what I wanted it to say. I knew it wasn’t ready to post and just kept putting it off. Over the last few days, I’ve read and reread it, and even cut 1,000 words from it (before adding a bunch!). That time away from it allowed me a chance to approach the topic from a different perspective.
Sometimes there’s genius in those fresh eyes.
Your Call to Action
If you have a particular piece that’s been giving you trouble, set it aside for a bit, see what happens.
For me, the benefit of working on multiple stories/projects at once is that when I need to set one project aside—often for months, maybe even longer—I have other writing to work on. Taking a break from a project rejuvenates me. Not only do I return to it with fresh eyes and fresh ideas, but I often have renewed energy and motivation as well. I’ve also usually read new things in the interim that may inspire me further.
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One of the many reasons Iceland was magical! Yes to waiting and letting things marinate.
Love this, Jessica! Here's to patience with, and fresh eyes on, our work!