Attention to Detail in Your Work is Just Another Way to Say I Love You

I’ve spent the past four months revising, tweaking, polishing, and fretting over a novel I believed was complete five months ago. I literally thought, “Thank God that’s over. Now I can move on to my next one.”

It’s just me over here, writing novels. I don’t have an agent giving early feedback on story ideas. I am my own development editor, writing coach, and project manager. When there’s a problem with the story, I facilitate the meeting between me, myself, and I to figure out how to fix it.

I’m also the copy editor, line editor, and book designer. Luckily, my wife and a couple of friends do a hell of a job proof reading.

At last, I’m nearing the end. Soon, I’ll abandon the project and move on. But even when the writing, editing, and polishing is done, publishing demands so much more.

I recently learned about a mental state of romantic obsession known as limerence.

When in a state of limerence, the stricken one believes they are in love, and that the entirety of their current and future existence depends on the reciprocation of love from the one they desire. They become obsessed with the other person, specifically that they share the same level of interest.

Limerence is not love. It can lead to love, but usually leads to heartbreak, as the onslaught of attention overwhelms the one desired, and they’re unable to satisfy the stricken one.

That’s how I feel about the novels I write. I’m in love with them, and I want so much from them, especially some recognition that I’m a worthy writer. I lavish attention on the novels, fixing all their problems, spending money on them, and stay with them for months, sometimes years, before I have to abandon them.

My novels never love me as much as I love them.

Once I’ve completed a novel, and abandoned it, I am exhausted, emotionally drained, and crushed. But it’s always worth it.

To know that the story has been told, and that it exists in a way that others can hear is satisfying. The story is out there. I’m confident it’s a good story, and that people will enjoy it.

Writing a novel is like any love story: it’s seems equal parts impossible and inevitable at the beginning. I’m confident my passion alone will overcome all obstacles. Once things get messy, it seems doomed. Why did I think this could work?

Then I remember that love is a verb, not a state of being. To love something (or someone) is to work tirelessly for their benefit. Limerence is a form of obsession; Love is showing up every day and putting in the work for the relationship.

With a novel, it means revising, editing, and polishing for months with no hope of sales. You just want the best possible story to be complete.

I hope everyone who writes, paints, or creates music, does so with a spark of love in their heart for their work. I also hope you enjoy the craftsmanship required to create your art, and the process of creating. It’s difficult to create something that people will love if you don’t love making it.

If you’re frustrated with your art, it may be that you need more training in your craft. I know I’ve been frustrated to the point of quitting several times, but the longing to write drew me back to my desk.

In those difficult times, I’ve sought out coaches, mentors, books, classes, conferences and workshops. It’s been a lot, but I’ve learned a lot, and now I’m at a point where I think I can solve any story problem that stops me from writing a novel.

If you have a passion for creativity, chase it with the obsession of a desperate lover. Figure out how to level-up your skills to be worthy of the art you wish to create.

Give yourself every reasonable chance to create what you dream.