FIND JOY IN THE WORK PT 2: When the Passion Wears Down for Your Writing Project

 You’re in the middle of the draft, and writing sucks. What now?

Seriously this time. 

Trapped in Time, Surrounded by Evil, Low on Gas

Want to hear a fun poker story? This happened to me last night, and I think it was one of the nicest compliments I’ve ever been given. The cards are dealt, and wouldn’t you know it, I’m sitting on the best hand I could’ve been given pre-flop: pocket aces. And the player beside me just went all in. I know, at this moment, I have the best odds to win the hand. I could still lose, but it’s all about the right decision in the moment. I’m in. 

The cards hit the table. My opponent has pocket sixes. Any six, and I’ve lost. The flop is laid. No ace to cement my victory, but no six to thwart it either. The turn comes. No six. The river comes. No six. I won. 

The table erupts in a flurry of energy. My opponent is out of the game, but takes it in stride. The chips get pushed my way and I stack them up. I breathe a major sigh of relief; the pressure washes out of me and I laugh. I wipe the sweat from my brow. There’s no need to maintain a poker face when your cards are on the table. In that moment, I tasted the sweet, sweet nectar of victory, and it was delicious. 

Now let’s talk about how I got to that moment. 

I sat down to play poker at 8:30PM. My first hand was a dud. I folded. I watched the flop and paid attention to the other players. Mostly, it’s a raise, another raise, and everyone folds. Rarely do we see a showdown of cards. Soon I’m fifteen hands in. I’ve not played once. I have paid the blinds, and they’re coming up a second time. 

By 9:30PM, I’ve lost a decent amount of money to the blinds. It’s been one hour. I haven’t played yet. I could, but poker is about calculated risk, and my hands hadn’t hit that threshold. Playing beyond that threshold was a gamble I was more often than not going to lose. Sure, any two will do, when it comes to cards in hand, but more often than not, those two cards do not. 

By 9:52PM, the player beside me has all but forgotten I am even in the game. We don’t know each other, and my chats have been with other members of the table. Then I get my cards. My opponent isn’t thinking about me. He’s low on chips and sees his best odds to double up. But he didn’t have to go all-in here. He could have made an oversized bet and sussed out his chances before the flop. Me calling immediately after he shoved must have been a slap in the face. He knows, in that second, that I’m not coming in weak. 

And we know how that turned out. 

Do you want to know the compliment I received after? 

“Holy shit Lawrence, you’re so fucking patient.” 

When’s the last time you paid real money to sit at a table and push cards away for over an hour? Mine was yesterday. I’ve gone longer. I prefer to get more action in that timeframe, but I need the right cards to make that happen. 

With writing, as with poker, the highs are few and far between. The rest is the slog. This slog is what holds back most writers. The slog doesn’t feel good. It’s not thrilling. It’s not fun. It’s not glamorous. It’s not like you can tell your friends about it. You can tell other writers, and they’ll nod along; they get it. 

But what is there to say? 

You’re in the slog. 

Work Sucks, I Know

Let’s start by nailing down what I’m talking about. You decide to write a book. You create a plan. You have an outline in some form or another. You know the story you want to tell. You’re excited about it! Nothing left to do but write it! 

That exciting action scene at the beginning? Fuck yeah. 

That tearful ending that nobody saw coming? Fuck yeah.

That really challenging chapter that’s a crucial stepping stone in your character’s journey that just doesn’t feel like it’s quite right, that requires 9,462 words to tell? Ugh. 

Kurt Vonnegut can teach you a lot on the shape of a story, but I’m betting you as a writer already know exactly what I’m talking about. Your amazing scenes need connective tissue, and ideally that’s going to read well, and build on the foundation and momentum you’ve already set. 

But if you’re like me, sometimes pushing through these areas are extremely painful. This compounds when I have doubts in the story’s efficacy, and doubly compounds when I’m re-writing these sections a second or third time. Or the eighth time. I don’t mean editing them a bit, I mean full-on re-writing them from other POVs, or strengthening the writing because I was apparently sleeping when I wrote it the first time, and decided to try it in a different language. 

This gets really painful when you’ve been at this project for a long time and you don’t feel like you’ve cracked it. Remember the yellow instinct flag, nagging away? When I’m in the slog, AND that voice is super loud in the back of my mind, well… 

In those moments, writing really sucks. 

I’ve Got That Joy Joy Joy Joy Down in my Heart

Here’s a secret: when I play poker, I like the feeling of poker chips in my hands. I like the feeling of bending the cards within my cupped hands and seeing the secret they tell me. I love the feeling of pushing them along the felt, or tossing them like a frisbee. 

I like the game a lot more when the cards are good, and my heart skips a beat, and my brain kicks into high gear with strategy. But as I mentioned, that moment could be an hour or two away, if it comes at all. 

What I’m saying is I like the feeling of poker. I like looking at the cards on the table, and reminding myself what the best possible hand is. I like when players act out of the ordinary, and I get to question why. What range of cards do I put them on? 

I find joy in the game at its most boring. I have to in order to play at my best. It’s not all that satisfying, but if that’s all I get, so be it. 

I once made a goal to bench 300 lbs with a friend. We went to the gym all the time, and we worked toward the goal with a fierce tenacity. I don’t remember how long it took, but I was never exactly jacked. I was 170 lbs of lean muscle (now I’m ~200 lbs of Pooh-bear style flub, in case you’re wondering). It took us a long time before I hoisted that bar into the air above my chest. I brought it back down. Slow. Inhale. Think of your form. Push. Exhale. The bar resists. It’s heavy, but I trained for it. I lift it. Two more times to prove that wasn’t a fluke. 

When I set that bar down, we celebrated hard. We did it! 

For over a year, we didn’t get that successful high to ride. All we had was the gym; was the progress we made. It helped that I had some visual stimuli to egg me on; I looked muscular. Ultimately though, I had to find the joy in being there. I had to find the joy of working out with my buddy every single day. 

The end result, the achievement you’re banking on eventually arriving, that will not keep you going. It will help, but it’s not enough. 

You need to find joy in the slog. 

To do this, let’s unpack a truly powerful secret for when times are tough. 

My Secret Sauce

You know what word I dislike? Mindset. It’s all about the mindset. A lot of people will provide advice that requires a specific mindset for success, and they’re very correct. But for many people, that advice is challenging to adopt because they don’t know how to change their minds. 

At the heart of this blog, I’m not complaining about the minutiae of the activities. I’m telling you what I like about them, even at their worst. 

This is huge. This can change your life. There’s real science that backs this up. 

It’s basic gratitude. 

Rather than say, “poker gets boring when you don’t get dealt a hand,” I focus on what I like about poker when it’s boring. 

Rather than say, “I have no idea when I’ll be able to bench my goal,” I focus on what areas I was able to improve compared to last week. I focus on my buddy’s good humor and lackadaisical smile. I focus on those glorious deep breaths that fuel the entire body. 

Practice gratitude in the things you hate. You’ll hate them a lot less once you do. Or you’ll dull the hate, at the very least. Do you work a 9 to 5? I get it, you hate it. But what do you like about it, despite that? 

If you continually focus on what you don’t like, you’ll be miserable. Instead, take time to actually write down what you’re grateful for about these things. Do this once a day for five minutes. It will rock your entire world if you can do this for six months. This is how you change a mindset. 

When I sit down for the slog, I already know I’m at home, in my office chair. It has good support. My chronically cold feet are wrapped in these thick German fuzzy slippers. I have my glorious noise-cancelling headphones on. I’m playing music; smooth jazz, maybe some house, maybe some quiet, slow piano, or something you’d hear in a cocktail lounge. It feels good to fly my fingers across a keyboard. I love the sounds of my keyboard when I work. 

Especially when I’m in the slog, I set a time limit: two hours. I can always do more, but I only need to do two hours. For me, that’s pretty achievable, but I’ve been at this a long time. For you, it might be half an hour. Once you do that, get up, stretch, do something else. Feel like you have more in you? Come back in a bit and do another session. 

It won’t make you feel better about the writing. You’ll need an edit, notes, encouragement, and more for that. It will help you get through the draft. Once you do, you can examine the work later and troubleshoot it. 

Odds are, if you didn’t enjoy writing it, it won't be enjoyable to read. YET. 

But sometimes we need to slog through a task to get to the best parts. And there’s joy to be found in the work, if you can really break it down and find what works for you in the moment. You might still hate the slog, but now your brain will also pay more attention to the parts of it you truly enjoy.

And whether it takes a week, a month, or ten years, you’ll look back at the progress after and be fucking proud of yourself. Anyone can do something exciting, something with momentum. Few can slog. You’re now one of the few. The elite. The sloggers. Welcome to the team.