This month I am in Massachusetts, coming to you live from an artist residency. This isn’t my first time at a writing residency, but it is the first since the COVID-19 pandemic began. What I like about residencies is that they seem to break me away from my routines. I say “routine” because that word summons up all the drudgery and bad habits of the working week for me.
Here, I feel eager to get out of bed in the mornings (and indebted, too, since the time and the space are a privilege). I feel this way because I have temporarily negotiated away all of my other responsibilities can pretend this is my one and only job. I make an English muffin, eat some fruit, and begin my long day. There is a momentary displacement where I can allow myself to set aside all my adult responsibilities and worries and try—to the best of my ability—to think of myself entirely as this working artist.
This is, of course, a fantasy, but it’s an indulgence I find is helpful for getting the work done. Although, I have to admit that I tend to burn the candles at both ends. It’s day six-ish, and I’m also feeling a little of the burnout from throwing myself wildly into writing and editing. Today, I stepped back and said, hey, it’s December. A year is ending. Another year is coming toward me. That seems like a decent opportunity as any to check in with myself about my goals for the oncoming year. At least for me, all of the planning and the dreaming of a writer life feels like a luxury I rarely allow myself to spend time with, but I’m going to spend time with it now.
One of the reasons I felt inspired to do this was because I read this fabulous profile on Octavia E. Butler recently. This article, as well as others I have read about Butler, depict her as a creator of marginalia and ephemera. I can only begin to imagine the brilliance her archive contains. A well-shared notebook page (included above) almost reads as a spell: “My books will be read by millions of people! So be it! See to it!”
And the spell came true, even though her life was cut tragically short. There is part of me that wonders if she can see all the people who are continuously discovering her work. I believe so. As the Vulture article says, she lives, because we continue to speak her name.
I’m not the type of person to create aphorisms for myself, but I am the type (more and more as I’ve gotten older) to try to push myself toward certain goals. I say this as someone who has a tendency to move between the muck and the aether.
Over the years I know I’ve filled out different questionnaires, surveys, and sheets across my writer life, but when I needed one of these in front of me I’ve come up blank. I ended up making a 20-question survey for myself with questions that felt the most important for me to answer in the moment. At first, I began to think of this as a “Five-Year Plan” type of check-in, but I also wanted to account for the upcoming twelve months too.
Below, I’m including the 20 questions I came up with. I’m also including a link to a DOCX and PDF on my website, if anyone would like an actual sheet to fill out. Feel free to share and pass on and adapt/adopt for your own purposes. Until next time!
JD Scott’s Writer Goals / Five-Year Plan Worksheet
1. What are some short-term creative goals (i.e.: over the next twelve months) for yourself?
2. What are some medium-term creative goals (i.e.: within the next 2-3 years) for yourself?
3. What are some long-term creative goals (i.e.: within the next 4-5 years) for yourself?
4. What are some creative goals you have right now that feel like they are under your control (that is, goals that are measurable, realistic, actionable…)?
5. What are some creative goals you have right now that feel like they are under someone else’s control (examples: getting published in your favorite lit mag; winning a literary prize; getting signed on by an agent…)?
6. What are some themes or ‘Big Ideas’ you would like to explore in the next year in your writing?
7. What writing project(s) is/are most important to you over the course of the next year?
8. Why? Why do/does your writing project(s) matter (to you or others)? Why are you the only person who can create this writing in only the way you could?
9. What are some future writing projects you would like to eventually tackle, but don’t fully feel ready yet?
10. Why don’t you feel ready?
11. What is one thing you would like to do in the next twelve months that scares you?
12. What are some reading goals you have for the next year? What type of texts do you want to spend time with to nurture your creative self?
13. Who is a writer (you can name more than one) you’d like to model yourself and your career after? Why? What about them or their public persona speaks to you?
14. What hobbies or activities do you have that nourish your writer self (or creative self)?
15. What motivates you as a human being and/or creative person?
16. What discourages or disheartens you as a human being and/or creative person?
17. What communities are you part of or would you like to be part of in the next year?
18. What are some ways you could act as a ‘literary citizen’ over the course of the next year?
19. What resources or community support systems do you need to help you achieve your goals?
20. Sometimes, people buy lottery tickets—not because they think they will win—but because they want to dream about everything they’d buy with that money if they won. Let’s pretend that all those things outside of your control (i.e.: luck, circumstance, trends, zeitgeist…) aligned perfectly with your personal values. What is your current “win the lotto” writer fantasy? What are your biggest dreams you may not even have shared with another human being?