(How to Get Some) Satisfaction
I got off the never-ending hamster wheel of work and it felt so good... even if it only lasted a day
Dear Friend,
When I first started writing these letters, I was in the thick of parenting a toddler and a baby. I would pack up half the house to go to the coffee shop for an hour, just to scribble a few lines in my notebook while balancing a baby on one knee and hoping nobody minded that half of the toddler’s muffin made it in her mouth, and half was on the floor.
It was a time of middle-of-the-night feedings and constant diaper changes. Nap schedules and tantrums. Carefully organized playdates to talk to other adults that would get canceled because someone’s snot was green. The Mindful Postcard was a much-needed tether to bigger thoughts and a wider audience.
One of my biggest hurdles back then was finding satisfaction when the work was never-ending.
The dirty laundry piled up, the diaper pail got full (yes, I was cloth diapering), and the dishes were never done, not even at the end of the day. Someone was always hungry, someone always needed help, and someone needed to be held. My own needs were met in a piecemeal way—a little bit here and there that somehow added up to enough.
The only conclusion I came to was that at any random point in your day, you could stop the work, look around at the mess, and think: Okay, this is good.
Not good enough, or good for now, or good once I can do a little bit more at nap time. I had to declare it good and then take a moment to really feel it. A mental pat on the back. Telling myself I did a good job and it’s over for now. I needed a boundary to call it done before I could begin again.
This past year, the work of writing has felt never-ending. There’s not always a clear line between drafts. I’m always working on more than one thing at a time. One book I started drafting in 2023, I took it through revisions and beta reader feedback and more revisions until I called it good and queried it. Then I got some more feedback from agents and decided to rewrite the whole book.
How do you find satisfaction as a writer if every book can be re-written endlessly?
When I look back on the year, it’s hard to point to a finished pile of work. It doesn’t even exist in the physical world like clean laundry stacked on the bed. It’s in folders and sub-folders, one document after another with titles like final, really_final, and Final_THIS_ONE.
And yet, when I go back and check the dates, I can finally see this year’s work: I queried a book and then I rewrote it. I got 3/4 of the way through another rewrite. I wrote five new short stories. I submitted shorts 53 times and published two. I beta read five amazing books by other authors. I’m 68,000 words (or about 3/4) into a first draft of a new book, and I hope to finish before the end of the year.
No matter what you do, it’s easy for the work to feel never-ending. It’s easy to feel like you’re pouring hours of effort and trading away your leisure time in order to meet your goals, only to find that the goal post has shifted, or the work will take longer than you thought.
On December 1st, I stopped for a day. I met a friend for coffee and let go of any expectation of meeting my daily writing goal. I watched a tv show while I ate lunch (I never do that!) And then I had the usual family time when my kids got home from school and later, we all ate dinner together. It was good to draw a boundary. To stop and reflect. To give myself a mental pat on the back for a job well done.
I hope you find the time to do the same. Call it good. Feel that your work is finished. And when you’re ready, you can pick it up and begin again.
xo,
Laura