There are often three states that often appear in the course of crossing art and commerce: wanting, aversion, and neutrality. Today, let’s write about them.
You don’t have to unpack the whole story of the book deal that you almost took and the one you took instead, or the deal that fell apart, or the career win that you wish for quite mightily. Instead, focus your writing on the things going on in your mind and heart during the process of moving your work out into the world.
Yes, go deep, confront self-sabotage, name the things you’re sheepish to admit wanting, but invest as much time as you’re willing in writing about where you feel an empowered sense of neutrality with your writing. It might look like “I want to do this, but only on my terms” or “I’d like for this to work out, but I won’t be ruined if it doesn’t” or even “I don’t care how accomplished you are, we all must be respectful of one another.” (See also: the first line of my page for occasional consulting work, which begins: “Here’s the deal: I don’t work with assholes.”)
We sometimes frame neutrality in terms of “not wanting something badly enough” but instead I invite you to consider it as the importance of doing our work on our own terms or not at all and with our boundaries intact, and of feeling unintimidated and whole and competent no matter who else is in the room. Cultural defaults say we’re supposed to be grateful for crumbs, and that we’re supposed to genuflect and make our boundaries and standards malleable for those who might have more accomplishments or money or power, but I posit we will gain only scraps by proceeding that way and our creativity will suffer for submitting ourselves to drama or rudeness or ill-fitting work. So, think of neutrality in terms of rootedness and feeling whole and working from there. See what comes up. Let’s write.