Happy new year! And happy New Year’s resolution season to those who celebrate. I, for one, do not. But this time of year, many in the writing world are taking this opportunity to set goals related to their craft, whether it’s to get published this year, read 50 books, get through the revision process, or just commit to writing on a regular basis. It’s a beautiful thing… for some people.
The thing is, I am not and never have been a New Year’s resolutions type of person, much to the distress of most of my family and friends. I am not goal-oriented in the slightest. The culture of New Year’s goal setting has always done little for me beyond generating anxiety that stalls out whatever goal I set almost immediately. Setting a goal, even an achievable one, doesn’t give me the same sense of determination, optimism, and energy I’ve realized other people get from it. I also don’t feel the same level of pride and joy after finishing something or accomplishing a goal – mostly, what I feel is relief, as if I thought something awful was going to happen to me if I didn’t achieve the goal, usually tinged with exhaustion from the burnout I generated along the way. Goal-setting in the traditional sense is not fulfilling or helpful for me the way it is for many other people, and the methods most people use to make sure they stick to their goals are not helpful, constructive, or even healthy for me at all.
You might be like this too – there are a lot of us! It’s a goal-oriented world out there, though, so I think most of us walk around wondering if there’s something wrong with us, or at the very least that we suck at achieving our goals. Neither of these things could be further from the truth. One of the things I learned last year is that being a non-goal-oriented person doesn’t mean you can never set goals, it just means your brain might need you to approach them a little differently than a goal-oriented person would. I happen to have some very lofty writing-related goals, which I feel very strongly about achieving. But I’m not going to tackle them the way the world tried to teach me to – not in the slightest.
If any of this rings true for you, hopefully this will help. Here are my tips for setting and achieving writing goals, from one non-goal-oriented writer to another.
Try process-based goal setting
Here’s a revelation that almost tripled my self-esteem, practically overnight, during one of the darkest periods of my life: endpoints are not the only valid accomplishments that exist. When you look back at an experience you had and realize that you got better at something, or learned something, or discovered that you enjoyed something along the way, you can think of those things as accomplishments. The meaning and growth that comes from attempting to do something does not magically appear at the end, like some kind of achievement trophy. It is accumulated continuously as we live our lives. Just because you didn’t end up with a quantifiable end product doesn’t mean you didn’t accomplish something, or that the thing you did accomplish is somehow worth less.
If you’re easily overwhelmed and feel unfulfilled by traditional goal-setting, like me, you might find more value in process-based goals. Your goal can be to enjoy something, improve at something, gain experience with something, or figure out if you like something or not. None of these are about the end product – they are about the ladder you’re climbing, not what’s waiting for you at the top. This has made me feel much more comfortable with setting goals for myself, and the overall attitude behind it has helped me feel proud of myself at times when I was beating myself up for “not accomplishing anything” or “not being productive enough.”
Learn to un-set goals, too
You’re allowed to ditch a goal that isn’t working out for you. In fact, it’s much healthier to do that than force yourself through an experience that’s doing nothing for you, and risking destroying your love of something that’s important to you. You are also allowed to move the goalposts whenever you want. There are no goal-setting police. Sirens will not sound in the distance if you reflect on your life and decide that what you wanted a year, a month, or even a day ago is not what you want now.
Humans change. You, a lover of story-craft, know this better than anyone. It’s the entire principle behind character arcs. Without change, we all know our characters will be left feeling dry, stale, and unrealistic, and the plot will often stall. There is a lot of truth in that that we can take with us into our own lives. Life is character-driven – it doesn’t move forward until the people living it do, and sometimes, that means letting go of a goal that isn’t working for you, for whatever reason. This doesn’t make you a failure. On the contrary, it can often be a huge sign of growth.
You have the right to remain silent
Let me free you of something real quick: you don’t have to broadcast your goals to the world. There is a crushing amount of pressure, especially this time of year, to declare your intentions for the future and spread word of them far and wide. Some people find this helpful – they find the accountability of sharing their goals helpful in meeting them. Some people just get really excited about goals, and who doesn’t like sharing things they’re excited about with the world?
But like anything, this feeling is not universal. Maybe you’re the kind of person who stalls out under large amounts of public pressure. Maybe your specific goals are just highly personal or you’re not ready to be asked about them over and over again. Maybe the guilt that can so easily spiral out of accountability is painful, or just isn’t something you have the mental energy to process in a healthy way right now. Writing in particular is a highly personal hobby for many people. It’s an art form – a mode of self-expression. It’s extremely normal for the goals associated with something like that to be extremely personal and close to your heart.
Whatever your reasons for not wanting to broadcast your goals publicly, I would like to affirm for you that those reasons are valid. If you need permission, consider this your permission to tell people your goals are personal or private. Some of the first personal goals I ever set and achieved successfully were the ones I kept entirely private until it was all said and done. And although I’ve gotten more comfortable with sharing some of my goals with people, I’m always careful to evaluate whether a particular goal might be easier to achieve if I keep it to myself.
Happy writing, toward a goal or otherwise.