Welcome back, my fellow creatives!

Well, the little Bs are preparing for school, and my own term is winding down as the next one looms. The summer continues to be sticky and bug-addled, so I am more than happy to herald fall with all the fanfare I can muster.

In the midst of research on helping students strengthen critical writing skills, some colleagues wanted to host a panel discussion on Adam Grant’s Hidden Potential: The Science of Achieving Greater Things. Grant is an organizational psychologist who takes a unique look at how folks grow and change. I found one of his chapters particularly applicable to the writing life and wanted to share it here.

The chapter is: “Getting Unstuck.” Rather a theme of mine this summer, you could say. 🙂

When you’re stuck, it’s usually because you’re heading in the wrong direction, you’re taking the wrong path, or you’re running out of fuel. Gaining momentum often involves backing up and navigating your way down a different road—even if it’s not the one you initially intended to travel.

Grant utilizes a case story to help structure every chapter of his book, and “Getting Unstuck” is no exception. Here, he shares the story of legendary baseball pitcher R.A. Dickey, a man who showed phenomenal potential as early as his teens (complete with an Olympic medal during his college years), but because of a medical oddity in his throwing arm, he was derailed off his path to success. He had to hunt down new guides and essentially relearn to throw to meet his physical needs. It took nearly twenty years, but that also meant that by age 35 (a time most pitchers retire), Dickey became one of the top pitches of the major leagues. His path of progress was FULL of stops and starts, but those extra challenges and detours created a transformation that set Dickey apart from other pitchers.

Writers can feel this, I’m sure. After all, it is so, so exciting to hear back from an agent or publisher. To sign that contract. To build a rapport with the editor. To prepare the marketing campaign.

And just as suddenly, eeeeeeeeeeverything comes to a halt. The numbers don’t meet the publisher’s goals. You’re not hearing back from as many bookstagrammers and book bloggers as you’d hoped. The reviews are barely trickling onto Goodreads or Amazon. Your contract ends. Interest in your books wane.

You’re stuck.

And yet, we’re not. We’re not thinking of how far we’ve already come, nor are we thinking of the potential paths still open to us. Instead, we are frustrated with the here and now and what isn’t with us in the here and now.

Progress is rarely noticeable at a snapshot in time—it unfolds over extended periods of time. If you focus your attention on a specific difficult moment, it’s easy to feel stuck. It’s only when you look at your trajectory over the course of weeks, months, or years that you appreciate the distance you’ve traveled.

As Grant explains, progress takes many shapes. Every lesson learned is knowledge gained and skill strengthened. After all, Dickey went through the same thing. When he learned that knuckleballs would be much easier on his throwing arm, he undertook a rigorous learning process to acquire the skills and guidance necessary to throw a consistently effective knuckleball. As he tells Grant, “[Dickey] estimates he threw over 30,000 knuckleballs at brick walls, cinder blocks, and nets before he had a consistent command of the mechanics.” 

30,000.

Just think of that.

Our stories are built with thousands of words. But we do not keep all those words. Hundreds, if not thousands, are cut. Moved. Added. Cut again. We are forever testing ourselves and the story’s language to find that command of our own narrative. We spend weeks, months, even years on a single story until we can give it the green light. When I think about the number of characters I added and cut Fallen Princeborn: Stolen over the eight years that passed before publication, I see a LOT of going in circles.

Heavens, I know this same “stuckness” in my own teaching career. I was an adjunct for over ten years, eternally in the purgatory of “Will I have a job next term or not?” You really feel like you’re not progressing towards a path of stability.

But Grant reminds academics and creatives alike that all the spinning is not in vain.

When you get stuck on your way up a mountain, it’s better to shift into reverse than to stand still. As you take U-turns and detours, you’ll feel as if you’re going in circles. In the short run, a straight line brings faster progress. But in the long run, loops lead to the highest peaks.

As a teacher, I started taking workshops and giving presentations for fellow faculty, and that got me noticed for the full-time spot. As a writer, I detoured away from the series started with a publisher so I could fully embrace the creative journey on my own terms. Perhaps the detour will take me back to River Vine someday, but for now, I have a new path to explore through a peculiar, silent universe yearning to find its song. That “undiscovered country,” as Shakespeare (and Captain Kirk) once called it, cannot be found when one clings to the safe and familiar. That, my fellow creatives, will leave you stuck.

So if you are seeing only circles and no way forward, then perhaps it’s time to venture off into the wilds of your WIP. Try a new point of view, a new setting, a new voice, a new genre, a new publisher.

Yes, you will stumble.

And you will try again.

You are still, in your own way, making progress.

Making progress isn’t always about moving forward. Sometimes it’s about bouncing back. Progress is not only reflected in the peaks you reach–it’s also visible in the valleys you cross. Resilience is a form of growth.

What helps you get unstuck? I’d love to hear about it!

As for next week, it’s about time for another podcast, so we’ll see what the library holds for us.

Read on, share on, and write on, my friends!