On the Trouble with Dreams

There's something wonderful about having a dream for your writing. Maybe it's finishing your first manuscript, publishing a book, sharing your family's stories, or simply becoming the writer you've always wanted to be.

Whatever that dream looks like, I encourage you to get as specific as you can about it. Imagine it. Write about it. Allow yourself to feel the excitement of what it would mean to you. After all, that dream is yours for a reason.

But I've noticed something interesting in my work with writers. Sometimes, the very dream that inspires us to write becomes the thing that makes writing so difficult.

We start worrying about whether we'll ever achieve it. We wonder if we're good enough, if we're making the right choices, if we're progressing quickly enough. We compare the writing we're doing today with the beautiful, finished book we imagine in our future, and we become discouraged by the distance between them.

And because we can't see exactly how we're going to get there, we begin to doubt whether we ever will.

That uncertainty can become a tremendous source of anxiety. It fuels perfectionism, procrastination, and self-doubt. We become so preoccupied with the future we're hoping for that we struggle to enjoy the writing we're doing today.

But what if we approached our dreams with faith instead of worry?

Think about Christmas morning.

As children, we didn't spend December worrying about whether Christmas was going to arrive. We knew it was coming. We didn't know exactly what presents would be waiting beneath the tree, but that uncertainty was part of the excitement!

We could enjoy the anticipation. The lights, the music, the decorations, the wonderful feeling that something special was on its way.

What if we approached our writing dreams the same way?

What if we trusted that our dreams were coming, even if we didn't know exactly when or what they would look like when they arrived?

When I left teaching after sixteen years, I had a very specific dream. I wanted to write and personally coach people to help them find the confidence to pursue their own dreams. I gave up my permanent teaching contract, my benefits, and my pension to make that dream a reality.

For a year, I pursued it. And then I realized that my interests were pulling me in two different directions. I loved writing, and I loved helping people pursue their dreams, but I was struggling to bring those two passions together.

So I changed direction.

I began focusing on helping people pursue their dreams of writing. And what I've discovered in the years since has been more fulfilling than what I originally imagined.

But here's the thing. If someone had told me, before I left teaching, that I'd struggle for an entire year, only to find myself starting something new at the end of it, I never would have quit. I never would have given up the security of my career to pursue that dream.

And yet, without that first year, I wouldn't be doing what I'm doing today. That first dream led me somewhere even better.

Sometimes the gifts waiting beneath the tree aren't the ones we expected. They might be even better.

And that's what I mean by faith.

I believe the dreams we carry are ours for a reason. That desire to write, to create, to share something of ourselves with the world, is worth trusting. It's worth believing in. Because if we don't believe in our dreams, how can we ever expect to receive them?

We don't need to know every detail of how our dreams will unfold, and we don't need to demand constant reassurance that we're going to get there.

We can choose to have faith that something wonderful is coming.

And when we do, something remarkable happens. We get to enjoy our lives right now.

Instead of constantly evaluating our progress, we can appreciate the writing we're doing. We can become curious about our stories, experiment with our words, and discover things we never expected. A difficult writing session doesn't have to mean we're not good enough. A mistake doesn't have to mean we're going in the wrong direction.

Yes, we'll still experience times of uncertainty, doubt, and frustration. Those are natural parts of writing, and of pursuing anything meaningful. But we don't have to let those moments shake our faith in where we're going.

Because here's the thing: worrying won't bring our dreams any closer. But it will rob us of the joy of pursuing them. And I don't know about you, but when I'm worried or anxious, I'm certainly not able to give my full attention, energy, and creativity to what I want to do.

And I don't want that for you.

I want you to have big, beautiful dreams for your writing. I want you to believe they're possible, even inevitable, while remaining open to the wonderful surprises that might be waiting along the way.

Most importantly, I want you to enjoy being a writer today. Not someday, when the manuscript is finished or the book is published. Today.

So here's something I'd encourage you to consider this week:

If you knew that your writing dream was coming, just like Christmas morning, how differently would you experience your writing today?

Next week, I want to talk about what we do once we've decided to have faith in our dreams. Because trusting that they're coming doesn't mean sitting around waiting for them to arrive.

There's still work to be done. But perhaps not quite the work you think.

Until then, happy writing!

Trevor Martens

Founder, I Help You Write Things

P.S. If you'd like some inspiration and motivation to write, genuine feedback on your writing, and the chance to immerse yourself in a group of writers who want the same thing you do, I'd love to have you in my November Writers Camp!

Registration opens Monday, but if you'd like early access this Saturday, join the waitlist here.

I'd love to work with you.