The Skill of Failure

 

I always enjoy reading Southwest Airlines’ Spirit magazine when I’m on a flight.  I usually find an article that makes a connection with writing in some way.  March’s issue had an article titled ‘The New American Dream’ highlighting entrepreneurs who quit their day jobs in order to pursue work completely outside their chosen professions. (article here) I found it especially interesting that so many people working in tech or other high paying business related jobs quit to ‘do something with their hands.’  Craftsmanship is becoming more recognized and personal satisfaction more valued. 

But none was an overnight success. The way they handled failure ultimately made them successful. Jay Heinrichs, the Editorial Director, points out that in some fields, failure is a necessity.  “Body builders lift to failure, pumping iron until they can’t get in another rep. Judo novices learn the art of falling. Engineers push devices until they break…”   

The writing profession is built on a series of successes and failures.  We can take classes and read books on writing technique, but until we actually write and critique what we’ve written, we don’t know where we have failed and how to improve it.  We can’t be afraid to write stinky, smelly first drafts, because without those, we have nothing to perfect, nothing to be successful with.

It can be very frustrating, even heartbreaking, to spend months or years on a manuscript, only to have it rejected by a publisher or agent. Or by several.  Every writer I know has experienced it.   Some writers can’t handle rejection of their work and they quit altogether. The lucky ones are those who receive feedback from the editor and the smart ones act on those suggestions and resubmit.  The ones who haven’t learned to handle failure don’t follow through.  I have heard editors say they have made comments for specific improvements and encouraged writers to resubmit, but many don’t.  

As writers, we need a strategy for recovering from failure and using the experience to our advantage.  If the editor has made suggestions that we can live with, following through is the most effective means toward success.  Sending the manuscript for a professional paid critique is also beneficial, as long as it is a trusted source.  At a minimum, we must ensure that we have followed submission guidelines and researched the best publisher for the manuscript. We need writer friends to use as a sounding board when these disappointments leave us low or threaten to derail us.  We may need to step back briefly and gain a fresh perspective. We don’t need to push our writing to the breaking point, but we must learn to see failure as an opportunity for future success.  And we don't quit our day jobs - stress is a creativity killer.

How do you handle the disappointment of failure?  Perhaps you have a quote or cartoon or your favorite author’s bio which outlines their ultimate success after experiencing failure.  Please share it with us. We’d love to hear!

Lessons From the Cheap Seats Part II

I'm a slow learner.

When it comes to being a writer I'm the slowest.

If this were a road race, you'd be tempted to run back to where I was and poke me with something sharp.

S.L.O.W.

As in it takes me years to do what other writers manage in a matter of months.

Like writing a novel.

I've been working on this one novel for about 3 1/2 years now. Awhile ago, I thought it was finished.

I was wrong.

I gathered it back to myself, edited, reworked much of it, then thought it was done.

Wrong again.

I repeated this tedious process several times.

I was certain the novel was finished. Complete.

New York has proven I was, once again, wrong.

Rejection bites.

And returning to the novel I was so sure I had already finished felt a great deal like humble pie. Which is fine, I eat that stuff regularly. After so many years as a writer, I have no ego anymore.

So, this is where things were for me when I was invited to have dinner with a group of highly successful and very well published authors. (This was the weekend I spent riding on Lesley Livingston's coattails.)

Mostly we didn't talk about books, writing, or the publishing industry. If someone mentioned what they were working on, or asked someone about their new book, it was titularly--an aside--and the conversation moved swiftly past and onto more exciting topics like hockey, living in France, embarrassing relationship faux pas, and the time I punched out a mime in New York City.

They didn't treat me like a failing wannabe author (which is very much how I felt about myself).

So, when Guy Gavriel Kay turned to me and said, "Tell me what's going on with this book you've written." I pretty much barfed out the whole ugly truth. Years of writing and getting it wrong. Years of NY agents saying things such as, "You're a fantastic writer, but pass."

He nodded several times and said simply, "That's not at all unusual. It sounds like you're going to do very well someday."

That was it. That was all he said.

And it was enough. Because he was Guy Gavriel Kay. I read his stuff in when I was in high school. He has eleventy-hundred novels published. And he basically said, "You're normal. Keep going."

I'm a mess. My work is a mess. I continue to rework the same novel I've been working on since the dawn of humanity (it feels like),  I've been rejected and/or ignored by some of the best in the business.

Normal.

I keep going.

What keeps you going as a writer?

Round Table: Is Success a Dirty Word?

I'm standing on the precipice, toes curled over the edge.

Below me is failure.

Only it's a little fuzzy what failure looks like, even from this perspective. If I don't earn back what I've invested, is that failure? Is it failure to sell 7 copies (total so far)? Or is it failure to tell a story that quickens the human heart to feel deeply but miss out on acclaim or financial gain?

Wait a minute! I might be peering into success. Stranger things have happened.

Success doesn't dial in much clearer than failure, however. What does success look like? Is it one letter whose writer says the story jump-kicked her back into life? Is it paying off the mortgage? Clamoring publishing companies? Just having written and published the story? Having bled into the story? Having told the best story you can? Being obedient? Is working for success a crime against art?

Madeleine L'Engle quotes one of Chekov's letters about success in Walking on Water:

You must once and for all give up being worried about successes and failures. Don't let that concern you. It's your duty to go on working steadily day by day, quite quietly, to be prepared for mistakes, which are inevitable, and for failures.

Can we be artists and good business-people? Is this a contradiction? Was Madeleine L'Engle living in such a different time and place that her words have grown cold and empty? Or has she mined for us the truth of the matter? I'm dying to hear what you all have to say.

These are good questions, Patti. I'm going to be transparent, because I know I can be with each other and our readers. I appreciate Madeleine L'Engle's quote, but I'm far, far from being in that place. Success to me feels like something more measurable ... and maybe that's because I've had so little to measure when it comes to my writing. At least, in the monetary sense. If that's my only benchmark then I'd have to say, no, I've not experienced success. Thankfully, I can say, for me, monetary gain is only part of being a successful writer. So while I haven't achieved what I'd like to achieve monetarily, I do consider my novels a success when I receive cards or emails from readers telling me how one of my books has touched them or uplifted them or made them think. The one that really blew me away was the email I received from a reader in South Africa who found my book in her library in Zulu country. Blew me away. And what was really funny was that I have been there! Ultimately, reaching readers is why I write --- but I have to be honest and say I'd like to be able to contribute more to our income as well. More income would mean I'm reaching more readers --- which is what I so desire. So it's like this circle game. I guess they really go hand in hand.

I hear Patti’s pain. If there is a metric for success – either book sale figures, or Amazon sales rankings, or some other way of measurement, what does a serious author do when those metrics seem lacking?

And let’s back up with one element of that question. What is “a serious author”?

Is it the person who works at writing full time? Is it the person who takes classes and tries to perfect the craft?  Is it the writer who has had contracts in the past (regardless of present contract status)?

Sorry, I’ve got a whole lot more questions than answers.

I guess I tend to focus on the things that make me feel successful - wonder when I became an optimist? But what does it for me are the letters. Some of you have sent letters and emails that have blessed me tremendously, and made me feel that I could do without the money (that's clearly the case!). I'm not much in for fame, either. 

It may not help me get my writing done day to day, but I really think success is a day well lived. And what that means has so much to do with the Lord's leading, watching his gaze to discern the next thing. 

 Sorry, not sure why Blogger won't reduce my photo any smaller. Sheesh, I tried.
Many writers (as agents/publishers must) measure success by sales figures and by the list of books the writer has published. There's nothing wrong with this, but it will never be my measure because I have a 'day job' which demands much of my time.  Each writer has to decide what success looks like and it changes as you progress along your writing journey. I  used to think I was successful when I completed a manuscript that I felt confident about submitting.  Then I felt successful when I received a contract or secured an agent. All of these are certainly benchmarks but what good is my writing if it doesn't impact readers?  When I hear from a reader that a character or passage resonated with her, I know I have succeeded in the most important area.


Success is probably best measured in persistence. In the end, we all know what success means as a writer: make a living, have a loyal following of readers (of whatever size, but growing), and signing publishing contracts that will see you well into the future. That's a modest minimum for success. But to achieve that in publishing takes more persistence than most other work (with the exception of other arts: music, acting, etc.). If you put on a suit and went to work everyday for 25 years and never got paid your family would have you committed. But this is art. And art has it's own (double) standards.

Art exists because we'd die without beauty. So, artists persist in creating beauty--whatever that means to each artist--and the one who persists is the one who succeeds. Press on into your success however you measure it. Don't give up.