The Arrival Fallacy
"If I only had [insert writing dream here], I'd be happy FOREVER."
it’s week one, campers!
this week’s topic: the arrival fallacy
fact check & resources
homework (yes, camp has homework)
1. welcome to week one, campers
Aloha, campers, and welcome to Camp Turning to Story! Did you bring your sleeping bag? A trunk full of your writerly clothes? A laptop? Charger? GOOD.
First, we are SO grateful for the enthusiasm sent our way for The Summer of Surviving Publishing. Several of you reached out to let us know our vulnerability struck a chord in you, and it meant the world to us. It also helped us dig deeper into our vulnerability as we recorded more episodes.
Now gather around the campfire. Let’s get started.
2. this week’s topic: the arrival fallacy
The arrival fallacy refers to the belief that attaining a particular goal will lead to long-term happiness.
The term was first coined by psychologist Dr. Tal Ben-Shahar, and it can be used to describe aspirations of any sort that are attached to fantasies of impenetrable positive mood. If I only won the lottery, then I’d be happy for the rest of my life.
But of course, we’ll be focusing on the bookish ones.
This episode, we challenge ourselves to examine arrival fallacies, past and present:
If only I had an agent—
If only I had a book deal—
If only I was a NYT bestseller—
If only I had a film, tv, or Netflix deal—
… then I’d NEVER COMPLAIN AGAIN.
The good news is that arrival fallacies help us feel motivated. If our brain tells us that everlasting joy is waiting at the end of the tunnel, we’re going to race through that tunnel. The bad mood, however, is that arrival fallacies trick us into focusing on external sources of writerly joy that are beyond our control. We give ourselves permission to be miserable on our current square of Candyland Publishing, excusing our unhappiness by promising that joy is just a few squares ahead.
And, unfortunately, arrival fallacies are false. There is no magic experience that leads to everlasting happiness. Mood re-stabilizes. Your good news becomes your new normal. The same insecurities return, no matter where you’re standing.
In this episode, we examine our own arrival fallacies, from Netflix to long-standing bestseller status. We explore the beliefs and experiences that contribute to these beliefs. Have a listen! But before you do, feel free to ask yourself:
What does it mean to YOU to be successful, as a writer?
What satisfaction do you derive from writing?
How much weight are you giving external validation?
3. fact check & resources
This week, Lyssa calls Atomic Habits author James Clear an Industrial/Organizational psychologist, because his books are often recommended by I/O psychologists. But he is not.
Speaking of Atomic Habits, we’re both reading it and referring to it throughout summer camp. Our minds are blown. Check it out.
And if you’re interested in other mental-health based series with Anna and Lyssa, check out our original 4-episode series, Finding the Joy, on Basic Pitches, which can be found on most podcast hosts.
4. homework (yes, camp has homework)
And yes, the homework is optional, and Mrs. Mercier, our resident teacher, won’t be checking it. But if you’d like to give this topic some deeper thoughts, ask yourself the following questions. Feel free to join the conversation on the substack, too, and share your responses.
Notice, these are a little different than the ones in this episode.
What does “I’ve made it” mean to you, as a writer. Honestly!
What satisfaction do you derive from writing?
How do your arrival fallacies—our your ideas about making it—impact your writing? For better? For worse?
I've been thinking about this- and it's really tricky to pull apart the many many dreams to work out which one is the true arrival fallacy. I think for me it's the idea of fans waiting for my next book. One of my favourite authors as a kid took forever to finish her series- and I'll never forget the excitement of the months leading up to every release. And it makes the querying stage hard because there couldn't be more of a contrast between fans dying to read your next book and agents who don't even want to start it!
Something that has really helped me with this is reminding myself that the best bit of being an author is getting to write and-- while there might be less barriers if someone was paying me or buying the stories--I get to write now and no one is stopping me. I was really struck by Taylor Swift's AOTY speech at the Grammy's. Being the first person ever to win four times is arriving by any stretch of the imagination. But Taylor said in her speech that she was just as happy if not more happy writing the perfect bridge or performing at a stadium. "The award is the work." All she wanted was to be in a position to keep doing what she loved.
So that's my new manta- the award is the work!
"I've made it" definitely implies midnight release parties for me! (Maybe I just miss midnight release parties.) Or, more generally ... fandom? Basically, that thing where people are so engrossed by the story and the world that they want to carry a piece of it around with them all the time. They're writing fic, they're getting tattoos, they're making art, they cosplay, they have inside jokes from the books with their friends, that kind of thing. (And it DOES feel incredibly egotistical to admit this! Ugh!!)
I resonated with Anna's explanation of what she finds satisfying about writing. I don't think anything has ever rewired my brain as completely as a great story. For a few hundred pages, you get to live in a whole different universe, and ... it's incredible. Then as a writer, there's this wonderful challenge of having a world burst to life in your mind, then trying to capture it in a way where you can invite other people in to explore and it feels just as arresting to them. It's *so hard* but man when you get it right. When you get someone else to feel what you feel about these characters or this setting or that scene? Ugh, there's nothing like it.
The good side of this arrival fallacy is I think you can take craft implications from it if you want. You're trying to create imaginary people and worlds that real people will weep over? Great, there are techniques for this. But at the same time, there are so many realities of marketing and advertising that go into which books become megahits. Specifically for the midnight release party thing--part of the joy of fandom is getting to share a specific thing you like with a bunch of other people. It's not always because the book is *millions of fans better* than the book next to it, it's just ... everyone knows it exists and has access to it, so you're able to have that human connection with a lot more people. It's not in the writer's control (and not the writer's job) whether that happens.
Of course, keeping perspective when you're drafting or querying or [insert publishing slog of choice here] is a whole other challenge. It feels like if no one realizes your book exists, or if someone passes on your manuscript, that your work is boring or flawed or just otherwise not good enough to move people that much. Maybe, maybe not! Not every story is for every person. But I do tend to catastrophize when I get stuck thanks to this fallacy!