Summary

The article emphasizes the importance of writing without expectations of fortune or fame, drawing inspiration from Charles Dickens' Great Expectations.

Abstract

The article "What We All Can Actually Learn From Great Expectations" by P.G. Barnett draws parallels between the moral lessons in Charles Dickens' classic novel and the act of writing in the modern era. It suggests that writers should not focus on the potential financial gains or popularity but rather on the creative process and personal satisfaction. The author, P.G. Barnett, encourages writers to write for the sake of writing, to be driven by their internal muse, and to release their work into the world without anticipating specific outcomes. The piece underscores the pitfalls of writing with the sole intention of achieving wealth and status, advocating instead for a pure, expectation-free approach to writing that mirrors the journey of Pip, the novel's protagonist, who learns that true fulfillment comes from personal growth and integrity rather than material success.

Opinions

Expecting nothing in return for one's writing can lead to a more fulfilling and less frustrating creative process.
Writing with the primary goal of becoming rich and famous is misguided and likely to result in disappointment.
Writers should focus on their craft and the joy of creation rather than on external validation or financial reward.
Revelations, such as increased readership or earnings, should be seen as bonuses rather than expected outcomes.
By letting go of expectations, writers can experience genuine excitement and satisfaction from their work, regardless of its reception.
The true reward of writing is the act itself and the personal growth that comes from consistently engaging with one's creative impulses.

What We All Can Actually Learn From Great Expectations

Expect Nothing To Be Pleasantly Surprised

If you haven’t read the book Great Expectations by Charles Dickens (or at least seen the movie — akin to sneaking cliff notes into class for a final exam), then you’ve missed out on one of the most classic moralistic stories of the nineteenth century.

The main character, Pip, an orphan, spends his days dreaming of making vast fortunes and acquiring nobility. And yet, during his journey to riches and class, he discovers some things are so much more important.

With that in mind, ask yourself some questions. When you write and publish something on this platform, what are your expectations?

Do you expect one person will read it? Are you perhaps expecting a hundred or maybe thousands of readers to select your piece and read your story? Do you expect to make money on your story? How much a day or month or year do you expect to make with your stories? Hundreds? Thousands?

Look, try not to confuse “want” with “expect.” We all “want” a lot of things. Like we want another president. We want everybody to settle the hell down and stop killing each other. We want this COVID shit to be over. But what do we expect will happen?

And no, this is not about expecting the worse (although another four years of the idiot we have in the WH is pretty damn bad) and being pleasantly surprised.

This is about expecting nothing.

You read that right. This is about writing and expecting nothing in return: no views, no reads, no claps of appreciation, no money, absolutely nothing. If you’re writing with these Great Expectations of fortune and nobility, you may be setting yourself up for a torturous ride of despair and frustration.

As Pip, our main character in Great Expectations, learned quite often the hard way.

What’s worse is that if you take up writing with the sole expectation of becoming rich and famous, I, without equivocation, am telling you that you’re doing this writing thing we do for all the wrong reasons.

You’ll hear all the fantastic suggestions, though. Write for that one person, just that one person. Understand and write to your audience. Write what your readers want to read. Pick a niche topic and write to that niche. Don’t be a niche writer, pick a topic, and stay in your lane. Write simply for yourself.

Now that last one, I believe is closer to where we all need to be as writers. Think about this. Our muse — or whatever you want to call it that gets your butt in the chair to write — compels us to create. It’s that creative drive, that passionate internal fire that sometimes flares up as hot as a supernova or grows as cold as Uranus.

Ahem.

Stop laughing. Your anus isn’t cold, but Uranus is the most frigid planet in the solar system.

Anyway, this muse thing, the internal drive to create, is what all serious writers seek to placate. Each time you sit down to write, it needs to be the same artistic drive you expect to appease. If even for a brief moment, it needs to be your only expectation.

Releasing that creation and letting it soar (or sputter along) for all the world to see (or not) brings with it a ton of exciting revelations, but it must never, and I mean never bring with it expectations of fortune and fame.

Sounds almost like tunnel vision, doesn’t it? Like putting the blinders on and refusing to look at the fact that no one is reading and you’re not making any progress.

Not really. Remember just a moment ago I said you publishing something brings with it a ton of interesting revelations? So, what’s the difference between a revelation and an expectation?

Let’s talk about revelations versus expectations for a bit.

A revelation is the discovery of an unknown fact. You know, like all of a sudden, you notice you’re stats have tanked (or blown up through the roof), and you busted the couple of hundred dollars for the month ceiling for once with a $215.00 payday.

Awesomesauce.

On the other side of that oh so awesome coin, is an expectation, a firm belief, an almost solid concrete faith that some future event is going to happen. You know, like this month, you expected to make five figures from your writing. Uh, but you didn’t, did you? Are you kind of feeling like shit right now?

Of course, you are.

You can experience other revelations if you examine what you do from a different perspective. Like the revelation more (anything more than zero is cool, right?) people read your stuff when you write a particular way.

So you start writing that way.

Or you can have a revelation that the last time you wrote a piece a particular way, a bazillion people commented on it. So you put that observation into play and create another piece like it only you make it zoomier, pack it with Dyn-o-mite and light the fuse on that sucker.

And more and more people start to notice your work.

But you’ve finally learned not to expect the masses to fall to their knees in praise of your work and throw coins of gold at your feet. You’ve learned the difference between revelations and expectations, and you ain’t about to make that freaking mistake again, huh?

Here’s the final revelation.

Suddenly, you realize you’re having a blast doing this writing thing. You get really, really jazzed when you sit in front of your computer or curl up in your favorite writing spot with pen and paper. And your cheeks ache because dammit, you just can’t stop smiling as you write.

At this point, the only expectation you have is that you’re on your way to hammering out another story. Regardless of how well it does, how many people read it, or how much money it makes, the only expectation you have now is that you expect to write another one tomorrow.

So, learn to concentrate on the important stuff as Pip did in Great Expectations. Focus on remaining true to yourself, loyal to your writing, and maintaining a clear conscience you’ve done your very best every day.

Let the fame and fortune take care of themselves.

Thank you so much for reading. You didn’t have to, but I’m certainly glad you did.

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