Is hope a writer's enemy?

It sounds a strange thing to suggest that hope, that most vital of characteristics, could be an enemy, and in most respects it's not. Hope can be the difference between life and death, the only thing that keeps one going in the face of incredible hardship. Without hope we are less than alive.

But hope, when it's applied to a writer who has submitted a precious manuscript, whether it's to an agent or a publisher, is something that's best avoided. Easy to say that but impossible to do.

Forgive me, I write as one who has suffered too many rejections. As I write this today I have two submissions being considered. The first I don't, and never really did, expect anything to come out of it; the other, well, I have hope.

In spite of telling myself I don't. I want to be prepared for disappointment so I play down my hopes. 'They won't like it. Why should they? Everyone else says no. So they will too.' But in spite of telling myself to forget it, I can't. That little glimmer of hope will not be extinguished. So I'm setting myself up for depression when the polite little email arrives.

The good thing is that these days the black cloud doesn't hang around for so long. Rejection does get easier to deal with but it still hurts. Every time my beautiful baby is turned down I feel the pain. As writers we can't help it: we've created something that is part of us. It's scary to send it out into the world and hurtful when it creeps back unloved. 

But we keep doing it. We keep hanging on to hope. And overall that's a good thing. Squashed hope doesn't kill us; it builds us. They say.


For more encouraging writing on hope go here.