I hate the word “hope”.

I’m going to let that sentence stand there by itself for a moment.  In fact, I’ll repeat it.

I hate the word “hope”.

How can I hate it?  The word means looking for a brighter future, it is a vision of a greater life.  It is the basis of a political philosophy that desires utopia. Pheh.

When you hope, you immediately give up your power, you immediately give over to the fates your responsibility to do anything more.  I hope this will work.  I hope I get inspired.  I hope they don’t mess up the government.  I hope I can keep my New Years resolutions.  When most people use the word hope, they’ve already decided that whatever they hope for probably won’t happen.  Once that decision is made, it probably won’t.  “But I am not responsible.  After all, I hoped, didn’t I?  What more can I do?”

Plenty.  There is plenty more you can do.

This is very insidious in art.  Hope is the enemy of art.  I used to tell my acting students, don’t hope.  Do.  Do the work so hope is unnecessary.  Do your homework.  Do your imagining work.  Take control of the process by laying a firm foundation of lived in circumstances and there is no need for hope.  I tell you, my fellow writers, the same thing.

When you hope in art, you are telling yourself that there is a possibility that it won’t happen.  When you give yourself that possibility, you stop being creative.  Don’t hope.  If you need to do something, trust instead.  Don’t hope your resolutions will work, trust that you created a new year filled with well imagined possibilities.  Trust that your vote counts and make sure it’s heard, don’t hope they will get it right this time.  Trust that you can create, that you’ve done the imaging work, that the work will move you, that the Muse will then whisper in your ear.

Give up hope.  Then do something.

~Geoff Hoff
Co-author of the how-to guide On Writing a Short Story.