Moving Goalposts Doesn’t Mean Failure

And other lessons learned from a year of novel writing

They say that when asked to think of a year in months, most people have a vague impression in their mind. Others have something called calendar synaesthesia, where they see “crisp calendars that are perceived as images in front of them when thinking about months gone by or still to come.” 

I’m not exactly sure where I fall on that scale, but my calendar vision is very specific. When I think of the year ahead or a new one to come, my view of the calendar is in two columns. The first column starts in September, running through to January, while the one beside it is from February to August. It’s very much a school calendar from my childhood years that used to hang on the refrigerator, clearly burning into my brain. Even as an adult, every year seems to be a school year for me. 

But while looking back at all the writing I did this year and my self-made deadlines, my routines, and the thousands of words I penned, I realize that my version of a calendar had been telling me something all along. 

Novel things

2023 was a year of moving goalposts. I had to do it many times. And yes, many of those times, I felt like a failure. Why did I have so much momentum at times and then abruptly feel like I hit a literal wall at others, with my hair flying back and my fingers unable to get a sentence out? When writing this novel draft, why was the resistance so intense it was almost palatable? Why couldn’t I blaze forward and just get the words down? 

I still don’t have the answers to these questions, and maybe I never will. I learned about myself this year that sometimes, even when I don’t want to, I need a break. I also learned that even in my most resistant moments, if I sit in front of my laptop with my novel draft open, something will flow from my fingertips if I don’t move for at least 20 minutes. Some words will enviably get written. 

In March of this year, I flew to California and visited my writing partner for the first time. We had been talking almost every day through text and the Marco Polo app for two years but had never met in person. It was absolutely wonderful to spend time with her in the real world, shopping for books and long lunches, and finally being able to set some goals for the novels we were writing at the same time, in person. On the Thursday before I flew home, we packed up our laptops and sat in a coffee shop. We ordered lattes and fancy toasts, nibbling away as we showed each other how we organized our novels in the Scrivner app we both used. We had been talking about it for a long time, but now we could finally show each other.

Before I arrived, we had both just begun working on draft 3. We needed some motivation to keep going, and we both felt an extra surge of inspiration when we made a deadline together. We looked at our planners and decided to have draft three due by June 23rd —right before her kids were out of school and summer was in full bloom. My optimism blossomed my whole flight home.

Tamar and I in LA!

But by April, it came to a screeching halt. During this month, my business, Write or Die, was in the process of merging to form one company with Chill Subs. There were so many meetings. There was a lawyer hired, contracts to read and, understand and edit. This merge meant taking something I had spent five years creating and building on my own, moving everything down to the URL, and building a team. I was on edge, to say the least. Very excited but worried and focused as well. 

Thankfully, it all went smoothly, and look at us now. But as you can imagine, my writing took a back seat. I could barely find room to think of my main characters at all. And so I entered May, happy about my new business venture but sad and frustrated about my novel. 

Here, we come to the first major goalpost shift. As June came, I was writing again, but I was still balancing my new workload and schedule with my writing routine. June 23rd came, but my novel draft was nowhere near done. I decided to push the due date back to August. 

But here is the thing. It was summertime. And summer is short and blissfully sweet in Massachusetts, where I live. Each warm, sunny day feels as though it needs to be thoughtfully and thoroughly cherished before October comes and the weather shifts to cold and more cold for a solid seven months. I tried to balance my writing, work, and outdoor time as much as possible. But blowing off my writing for the thrill of summer was easy. By the time August came, my draft was done, but it was full of pages missing, plot holes, and gaps. I said it was done and celebrated the 80k plus words the draft was. But I wanted a more complete draft. My writing partner encouraged me (over and over again) to take a break, leave the draft alone for at least a month, and pick it up again in the Fall. I actually listened, and the break was exactly what I needed.

Here are the two posts I wrote during that time, on taking a break and reading draft 3 for the first time.

A Toast to a New Season

Jobs are stupid

If you have been reading my novel updates thus far, you know I had mentioned that this latest draft of my novel, which I began in September, is set to be finished so that I can send it to my writing partner on December 31st. 

Is my draft almost done, then? 

No. 

So Im moving my goalpost again? 

Yup. 

This time, I don’t feel like such a failure. December was a crazy month. Between the holidays, wrapping up business things for the end of a fiscal year, and just life, I moved slower. At first, I was upset again. What is wrong with you? I said to myself. Just get this thing DONE. 

Maybe it's all the yoga and breathing exercises I’ve been doing lately, but I suddenly had this realization that I was coming at this draft with such aggression. Yelling at myself into submission. That is not how I wanted my writing life to be. 

I read somewhere on Substack this quote from Mary Karr’s Facebook:

As writing gets harder, go at it softer. The instinct to attack harder comes from fear. But that just pours animal energy into the scared place. Move slower. Take more breaks. Breathe deeper. Honor your insides. Notice stuff. Celebrate doing it at all.

It was indeed fear that was leading me. Fear that I’ll never get this novel done. Fear that I’ll miss my moment. Fear that this story isn’t going to work if it’s taking me so long to write. 

I don’t want to bring any of that into 2024. And so I moved my goalpost again. 

My new deadline is January 26th. It's right before I go on vacation with my husband, and I envision a victorious moment when I type “the end” and send the draft to my writing partner. She hasn’t read a full draft yet, and I’m beyond excited to share my novel with her. 

But what I learned through all of this brings me back to that calendar image. I worked best within a school year, taking December and the summer off. I needed a spring break. And while I don’t know if 2024 will bring about the same needs, I think realizing this about myself will save me a lot of guilt and frustration. Time away is crucial. Giving myself grace when life is busy is pivotal. 

I never anticipated learning so much about myself from writing this novel. These lessons come in waves, ebbing and flowing so that I’m never sure exactly when the lesson will come, only that it enviably will. Moving all these goalposts this year did not lead to failure. I’m still going strong. I still believe in this story wholeheartedly. I am still excited about it. My current draft is 66k words, and I believe I can make this next deadline. I’m going to try with all I’ve got. But if something happens and I don’t make it, I’m finally able to go a little easier on myself. For me, that is a big win. 

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Here are some other big wins I made this year because, hey, why not? 

In 2023, I wrote, revised, and submitted a new short story. I currently have three stories out on sub right now, and in 2023, I submitted them to over 30 publications. So far, I’ve received exactly zero acceptances (cool!). 

In my year of novel writing, I wrote draft 3 and more than half of draft 4, writing a total of 148,000 words (not including scenes from either draft that have been cut!). 

I also started this subtack this year! My first In the Weeds post launched on January 5th, and so far, I’ve written a total of 28 posts. Here are a few of my favorites!

Things Men Say to Me at Work

Giving Birth to New Consciousness

Behind the Scenes

This space has been an unexpected joy for me. I have loved talking about the creative process and working in the service industry while balancing it all, and I’m very excited about what I have planned for 2024. Thank you so much for sticking around and supporting my work and for all the encouragement. I have needed it!  As someone who receives a lot of rejections (see above), this space feels like a warm, writerly hug! 

I hope you also take a moment to reflect on your year and what you have accomplished. You might think you haven’t done that much, but trust me, it adds up. To me, whatever you did or wrote is deserving of celebration. 

See you all in the new year! Happy writing! 

server life

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