It can be scary to send your work off into the world—this is true for all stories. When you’re updating your company’s messaging or sending out an Instagram post, there is apprehension about what will happen on the other side of the chasm. What will people think?
Stories take on a life of their own in the larger world. Whatever our expectations for audience reception might have been in our heads now meets the harsh reality of other people—they can love it, hate it or ignore it.
In most instances, we do not live in a meritocracy. The best work doesn’t always float to the top, so we have to find a way to separate ourselves from the outcome of publishing.
Once released, the work is not yours. In some processes, we can edit after showing it to a group of people, but we have to stop at some point.
While you can workshop a play, you probably shouldn’t try to rewrite the ending once it’s on Broadway. We should eventually be able to let it go. At some point, the best thing you can do for your old work is to create new work. In the Heights probably would not be a movie right now if Lin Manuel Miranda hadn’t moved onto Hamilton.
I like to think of publishing as letting go of a balloon. We can only look at it from afar, an independent force in the wind, and say, “Hey, that was my balloon.”
George Lucas couldn’t stop tinkering with the original Star Wars trilogy.
Unfortunately, his updates of the late ’90s make the movies look more outdated than if he’d left the original theatrical releases alone. Someone should have told Lucas to let go of the balloon long before he did—use the force, George.
We can’t be precious with our work if we’re looking to impact others. This separation can also benefit us as we try to market the work. We can point out the author’s intent and offer clarification, but we’re no longer responsible for the perception of the piece. We are now working to bring what happened before we hit publish to life.
Letting go of our work once it’s finally published is hard. When we’ve worked on something for a long time, it’s a part of us. But now, the work has grown up. It’s more mature. It doesn’t need us to protect it anymore. So our relationship has changed, but we can still be proud of our intent and watch the balloon float away.