What does it mean for a writer to embrace hope? And how does hope relate to feeling confident and optimistic about your efforts? You’ve heard the common exclamatory admonition from writers who’ve gone through repeated failures in the publishing game and then finally found success: “No matter what anyone tells you, never give up hope!” But is it hope that is responsible for their persistence and success? Or is it that they never give up on themselves and their belief in their work? Or could there be a measure of both?

Looking at the meanings of hope, we find: “desiring, expecting and wishing, being optimistic, intending with the possibility of fulfillment.” When we hope or wish for something to happen, we take it out of the realm of our own actions and responsibility for the outcome, and turn it over to some force outside of ourselves. We “hope” agents, editors, or marketing reps will go for our writing. We “hope and wish” that the publishing complex will grace us with its favor. Obviously, we don’t have as much control as we would like over the reception of our work by others. But my point here is that the more we believe that hoping, wishing, or having “good luck” is what ultimately makes the difference, the less we may do to influence the outcome.

Another way to talk about this is what psychology calls locus of control.

Locus of control is a personality construct developed by Julian Rotter back in the sixties referring to an individual's perception of the outcome of events as determined internally by his own actions vs. fate, chance, luck, or external circumstances. An inner locus of control means that we tend to view our own efforts as having more to do with an outcome. An outer locus of control means we tend to see others as controlling what goes on in our lives. To see the kinds of questions used to determine inner versus outer locus of control, go here.

Locus of control relates to our expectations. If we value getting published, and we believe that taking certain actions—like polishing our manuscript and finding an agent—will produce that outcome, then we are more likely to do everything in our power to realize that outcome. This may lead to persistence in the face of rejection rather than letting ourselves get discouraged and giving up. It may lead to writing workshops or conferences to hone our skills, or lots of reading to better understand marketing, building a platform, what good and bad writing look like, and what we may want to learn from the work of others.

Hannah Levenson offered a slightly different model. Whereas Rotter's conceptualization viewed locus of control as unidimensional (internal to external), Levenson's model asserted that there are three independent dimensions: Internality, Chance, and Powerful Others. According to this model, we can endorse each of these dimensions of locus of control independently and at the same time. For example, you might believe that both yourself and powerful others (agents and editors) influence the outcome of publication, but that chance does not. Or you may believe that all three demensions are operating.

So, you may think it is up to you to do the best work you can to submit to an agent. And you may also realize that no matter how much effort you put into it (Internality) or how confident you are, or how exhaustive your submittal efforts, it is in the agent’s or editor’s (the Powerful Others) hands as to whether there is a connection and they “get” your writing.

At the same time, you may also belive that chance comes into it. For example, whether the agent is in a good mood when she happens to read your query and sample or whether you happen to have the good fortune to be writing on a topic or in genre that is hot at the time your query is read. Or who knows how many other big or small coincidences may influence the process?

What does all this mean in terms of hope? One thing it means is not to let your hope in the “powerful other” or in chance overshadow your own effort in doing everything you can to effect your desired outcome. If you want to have hope, make sure you also have plenty of confidence in your own skills and talent.

Because if you don’t, it will be too easy to get discouraged when your desired outcome is thwarted. The more you believe that your own efforts determine outcomes, the more confident and optimistic you will feel when making those efforts.

In other words, your locus of control should ideally be more internally focused rather than externally focused. At the same time, you must allow for all the contingencies of the marketplace over which you have little or no control. If you believe that the outcome of your work is basically predetermined by chance, fate, karma or your God-concept, you are not going to approach your writing (or anything else in your life) the same way as if you believe your own valuing, choices, and actions are primarily responsible for the outcomes in your life.

Here’s another idea related to hope and expectation from a different arena. The Zen Buddhists have a pithy saying: “Big expectations lead to big disappointments, little expectations lead to little disappointments, and no expectations lead to no disappointments.” The Zen teacher would tell you to give up on all expectations when you submit your manuscript if you don’t want to end up disappointed. He would say that any hope you are harboring will only lead to suffering when your desired outcome doesn’t occur. If you are too identified with your own productions, you will lose a chunk of your sense of self should the “powerful others” and chance not cooperate.

This doesn’t mean you can’t be positive and confident about your ability or prefer to see your desired outcomes. It just means you don’t sit around hoping, wishing, and praying for the stars to line up perfectly. Because while sometimes they do— a lot more times they don’t. And for all those times, you want to have a strong sense of self intact that pushes you to sit down and start all over again

© 2006 Steven Hendlin, Ph.D.

Steven Hendlin, Ph.D. is a clinical psychologist in Newport Beach, California
who has been in private practice for 30 years. Formerly a columnist for TheStreet.com for 74 consecutive weeks, he currently writes the “Shrink Rap” column for COAST Magazine. Dr. Hendlin is the author of four books and hundreds of professional and popular articles, reviews, and columns.

Visit him at www.hendlin.net. He is pleased to receive your comments and questions for publication in his Backspace column at baney@yahoo. com, but please remember that he is unable to provide personal counseling or psychotherapy through the mail.