“All we need is just a little patience…”
Guns & Roses
One of my resolutions for 2023 is to cultivate more patience in my life. It’s the same resolution I had for 2022, and 2021, and 2020, and the number one thing on my self-improvement list that has come up during the Jewish holidays as well.
I’m not sure if my innate lean toward impatience is a part of my New York City upbringing, where any long line or red light is considered an insult to our existence; or if it’s something in my own psyche that ignites my anger spark when I don’t get what I’m seeking quickly enough.
Over the years, I’ve learned to be Zen about physical long lines, though I still feel my insides quickly reaching boil when I spend too much time on hold. Maybe it’s the tacky music or the endless repetition of the vapid robot voice telling me how sorry they are for making me wait. Let’s just say that by the time I get a live person on the phone, I’m not my best self. On bad days, I’m deliberately channeling my inner bitch.
But despite not yet being perfect on the patience scale, I’m extremely patient about the writing process. Yes, I admit to falling in love with a poem five minutes after I’ve drafted it and having to hold back my urge to immediately send it out everywhere, but for the most part, I enjoy the simmering process. For poetry, that means putting the poem away for a while so I can revise it with fresh eyes–over and over again.
And patience is even more important for the longer process of writing stories, essays, and full-length books. When I’m working on a longer prose project, I try not to think about when it will be done. Instead, I set a daily habit of diving in, writing for as long as I have the energy or the time, then putting the work away for tomorrow, where I often start by reviewing and revising whatever I’ve written the day before. Then when a draft is completed, I put that away for a weeks or months before starting the whole process over again. It can sometimes take years before I finally decide something is “finished,” or at least ready to send out to journals, or agents, or small presses.
And after I send things out, I wait again. Often for a VERY LONG TIME. Yes, it tries my patience, but I try to just get onto the next project, rather than thinking too much about what’s out to market.
I have a lot more to say about patience, but I’m determined to keep these posts short and sweet, so the rest will have to wait for another time. Meanwhile, I’ll try to be patient as I wait for thoughts and reactions. 🙂
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Dina,
Though I’m from a Boston suburb, not NY, we do have that impatience thing in common! You’ve offered some pondering on patience & writing that feels important.
thanks!
Thanks, Stephanie!
For some reason, this made me think of a woman in my writing group who jokingly complained that she always imagines she’ll receive only positive feedback on her submission. Definitely writing and rewriting takes patience, though maybe my impatience to share serves a purpose as well, as a friction that keeps me trying and hoping.
Hi Nancy,
I think it’s fine to share and an innate human response to salivate for positive feedback at any point in the writing process. We absolutely need those pats on the back to keep us going. And part of the art of the long haul is to know when we’re ready to hear the not so positive feedback, which may not be immediately after we’ve written something, when we’re still too much in the throes of ecstasy from having expressed something important to see its blemishes. So we have to be patient about that, too. And yes, I agree, our impatience to finish something to our satisfaction can also be a great motivator in continuing to keep working. Thanks for these important observations.