28. How do you deal with writing pressure (ie: pressure to update, negative comments, deadlines, etc)?
I'm shite at deadline pressure and stress. I have plenty of it in my work life, which I tend to keep balanced on a very delicate recipe of caffeine and inventive swearing. So I like to excuse the maladaptive daydreaming for productive escapism and get lost in the story when it comes to writing. But stress and pressure are not conducive to the escapist element of escapism - thus the paradox of being an author in fandom.
With the episodic nature of fic release, it's easy for the rat brain to take over - the rush of dopamine from feedback after a chapter release is an intoxicating hit.
My biggest stressor, however, is I don't like to break a promise, and each WIP is a promise made. So writing pressure is something I've had to have a word with myself about (and by that, I mean moan to my friends until they reorganise my priorities).
Because that's the thing - priorities. I started writing to relieve stress (re: search for the escape), and I continue writing because I enjoy it (re: the escape has not yet been found). I put enough pressure on myself to finish a story, I don't need the added pressure of reader expectations.
I'm a discovery writer with a very busy life - planning is not on the cards for me. I used to get overwhelmed with it all - so I had to place boundaries on my relationship with the fandom.
I will not release an update schedule.
I will not promise to have a fic completed by a certain time.
The comment section is not a safe space for me, it is only for the readers.
If I don't make the promise in the first place, I immediately remove any stress of failing to meet expectations.
I know that some readers only read completed works - and that is something I absolutely understand! Each to their own, we all have our prefered poison. I have so many WIPs at the moment, that from a writer's pov, it would be really easy to just be buried under the pressure of completing them, let alone with outside pressure from readers wanting things completed now/to their liking.
As a fic writer in fandom space, it's fine until discourse turns to Death of the Author, because as someone funnier than me said, 'The Author isn't dead, they're just on Twitter'. So when our maladaptive daydreams are being torn apart like they're classic literature, or as if they were written as a personal attack on a person we have never met a thousand miles away, it's hard to maintain that we write for ourselves when the dejected rat brain is searching for that morsel of dopamine.
When I first started posting my writing, I really struggled with managing expectations and balancing the stress I put upon myself against the pressure that was being placed upon me. But now I am absolutely secure in the knowledge that the chapter will be completed when I've written it; the story will be finished when I'm done.
As for negative comments - I will accept constructive criticism from people I trust. That's it. Fandom has made it abundantly clear that the comment section or any social media platform, is not a safe space for the author. So I made a compromise with the internet - while people think that creators are here for the consumer's entertainment only, they can have free reign over the comment section, over whatever platform they choose to air their thoughts, but I will not listen to them. Their words will only have the value I choose to give them.
I have curated my internet and fandom experience, so I can escape the world when I have a spare hour. I write to keep the promises I've made to the story, everything else is noise. If readers want to join me in my search for escape, then the more the merrier, but don't be a buzz kill.
30. Post a snippet from your current WIP without context - no more than 300 words.
“He’s antsy,” Harry interrupted, following him at a more sedate pace. “But he does have a point – this is taking too long.”
“Have you found something useful yet?” Draco said, taking a step back; Hermione straightened, filling her chest with a deep breath, soaking in the space she hadn’t realised she’d lost. “A map to their lair?” Draco continued. “A recipe for their sacrificial spell? A roster for their members? Anything at all?”
Nott stopped short, his fists notched on his hips. “The longer we spend pissing about these libraries, the more we may as well just stick a big target on your back advertising your whereabouts.”
Hermione almost laughed at hearing her own words in Nott’s voice.
“It’s almost like people should listen to me,” she said, turning pointedly back to the shelf.
A short low rumble echoed against the marble floors and Draco turned to pace away down the aisle.
Hermione watched as his hands slipped into his pockets when he stopped, his head bowed creating a perfectly taut line of sinew beneath his shirt.
How was this peace? She could reasonably understand how the lack of Voldemort’s presence was a significant improvement on matters, but his life was still being threatened. Everything about him screamed tension, a wire a hair’s breadth from snapping.
Draco’s shoulders heaved as he took a breath, and he turned slightly, his head still bowed, his eyes meeting hers through the white hair that fell over his forehead.
She could see the anger brimming just beneath the surface of his carefully curated mask, the glow of the molten mercury burning his gaze. Though he’d made himself smaller, he filled the room, stealing her air, commanding the storm that brewed in her.
A tempest caught in a tailored suit.
