It’s time for the new year, and with that, it’s time for an influx of cookie cutter social media posts.
“New year, new me.” etc.
Pictures of Lions with inspirational quotes, urging you to take what’s yours etc.
Or the opposite, “lean into self care in the new year.” Stop the hustle, make time for X Y and Z. The important things.”
Yes, there’s a lot to cringe tied into the above, but it’s understandable why creators start channeling their inner-Mathew McConaughey around the first of January mark—
It’s a time of year when people are with their family and friends, taking time for themselves. Is it any real mystery why this type of post feels “banked” or “formulaic?“ Why people are perhaps not putting out their most original work?
They’re bridging a gap while they’re on holiday, keeping their followers on the hook until they get back to work.
It’s an easy call to action. Turning the “content” back on the followers. Reflect, look at yourself etc, etc
And besides, for all their cheesiness, perhaps there is something to be said letting your wheels sink into the deep grooves of an old road.
The “new years resolution” and the “year in review” both have their place.
Despite how wide open to wise cracks they leave you, I’ve long been a proponent of both of these lists. If nothing else, the ritual alone, allows for a nice book end from one era to the next.
There hasn’t been a year in the last decade where I haven’t come up with some type of resolution (don’t worry, I’m not going to post them here.)
I typically write these lists privately, then guard them with my life…
—Because by nature, resolutions and years in review, tend to be a bit embarrassing. That’s the way they should be.
I’m definitely not advocating announcing them to the world. People posting their “goals for 2024” publicly, can be just as effective as three fingers down the throat.
Why?
Because, New Years resolutions should be jarring to anyone who knows you. By definition they should be out of sync with the person you are right now. If anyone came across that list, they should turn to you and say, “You wrote this? You genuinely think you’re capable of achieving any of this? Maybe take a quick look at the culminated evidence from across the entire rest of your life and start again?”
That’s the point. These lists should ignore your track record. They should be filled with the things you’d never say out loud. They’re an opportunity to push out the edges of your horizons a little bit. They should be bordering on the impossible.
Of course when you get to the end of the year and run your review, you’ll probably have fallen short on most of the bullet points you jotted down. But if you’ve taken any type of action on account of that list you will hopefully have stepped close enough to that new goal to at least get a good look at it. From here you can ask yourself, “Is this change worth the effort, or was this just a case of the grass being greener?”
(DEVILS ADVOCATE: BUT you wouldn’t you be better served to spend that time on a more realistic goal so you’re not wasting time?)
Sure, but realistically you should already be doing that as part of your day to day life. To me, new years resolutions are an opportunity to look at the big picture, climb to the top of a tall hill, look out and say, “where would I like to go?"
Once you’ve climbed back down, you’ve got all the time in the world to work within the realms of the “realistic” and map out a practical trajectory.
Looking forward to 2024
I know I said I wasn’t going to share my goals, but since this page is meant to be writing related, I will reflect on one takeaway I picked up over the course of the last year.
See over the past twelve months I’ve been attending a writers’ group—and to be honest I haven’t always received the warmest reception. Of course, people are nice, but I’m not the most emotive public speaker. I tend to read my dialogue fairly dead pan and I don’t perform my readings in the way others do. In short, let’s just say the format doesn’t play to all my strengths.
But I keep going for two reasons.
1. the community is great—although we are a fairly unlikely bunch, we are all collectively pursuing this strange goal, and it’s helpful to watch the patterns of my own approach be played out in others. It let’s me know that I’m not the only insane one.
The bits that are unsaid. See, while people are polite, and won’t be so quick to criticize. You can always get a read on how well one scene compares to the last by dissecting their relative reactions. Are they asking lots of questions? Do I have their attention throughout? Does the topic matter of my scene spur and outbreak of discussion among the group?
Now I’ll confess, at times I’ve debated the helpfulness of this second point. After all, if these takeaways are really this subtle, are they too abstract to be applied to my other writing, moving forward?
My conclusion is no.
Reflecting on my readings over the last twelve months, I’ve noticed a glaring trend which promises to give me a huge leap forward in my writing to come.
See, I’ve got two main characters in my book. Marcus Toth and Maggie Vass. Marcus is the character I started with when I first began writing this thing six years ago.
Over those years he’s morphed from the original conception into someone more three dimensional.
Maggie, was never meant to be a main character. However, as my plot has developed, her role in my novel has expanded and expanded, to the point where she is now the main voice of the story.
Now, going back to this writers’ group—I began reading from chapter one of my novel-which naturally starts with Marcus’ voice. After a years’ worth of reading however, I have now reached the scenes that are written in Maggie’s voice. And the pop from the writers’ group when I read Maggie’s scenes, in comparison to the Marcus scenes is night and day.
Part of me reasons that this is simply by virtue of the fact that these scenes were written later and were developed when I was a better writer.
But I suspect this is only part of the truth.
I think the solution lies in the distance between me and these two characters.
With Marcus, I’m describing an idealogue—and although I write from his POV, I am casting judgement on him even when speaking in his voice.
Whereas with Maggie, there is less judgement, I’m writing from a more honest place and just showing the world as she sees it.
I think this is the key to making my writing resonate more powerfully with readers. Reflecting on other stories I’ve given people to read, the ones where I attempt to separate myself from the story’s narrator never get as enthusiastic a reaction as the others.
Perhaps this is getting slightly too far into the weeds, but this is my takeaway from 2023 and will inform my writing in 2024. With my characters moving forward—even the diabolical—I want to be writing without judgement. This is the next step in my progression as a writer, and what I believe I need to master in order to get to the next level.
So there you have it. I wrote the type of post I said I wouldn’t write. But hopefully it didn’t feel cookie cutter at least. Good luck with 2024, I will see you back here every week.