The deep dark certainty we've somehow failed as writers is a common ailment we all get at some point in our writing career. It's part of who we are and why we write in the first place. But just because it's as common as a wart doesn't mean we have to put up with it. There are a number of ways to overcome that horrible sense of having failed as a writer. The first and most important way is:
Don't see it as failure.
You know that tenth, fiftieth, one hundredth rejection letter you're holding in your shaking hands? That isn't failure. Instead it's another stone that's been turned on a beach full of possibilities. You know that paragraph/chapter/story that's refusing to write? That isn't failure either. It's a challenge to accept, a chance to rethink, a puzzle to solve.
Mistakes and mess happen, especially when we're writing a first draft. Even when we've reached a tenth draft. The process of writing is a long, slow and messy one. We have to dig in and get our hands dirty to find a treasure. The first try is bound to turn up a wonky throw-away. It's okay, though. We can tweak, adjust, and fix until that baby shines. Or we can toss it and start over. It's just part of the process and doesn't somehow make us failures as writers.
Make failure work for you.
Say you've failed to achieve a goal. A wholesome wallow can be good for the soul. So do your wallowing, maybe eat some chocolate. But don't let the dark depths drown you. Stand up, dust yourself off and get to business. I don't mean blindly charge forward, gritting your teeth in determination until the next fall. I mean, get to the business of dissecting the failure. Ask yourself where you might've tripped up so you don't trip on the same pebble again. Learn where your weaknesses lurk. Then actively work toward strengthening those areas.
Do the same for your successes. Don't simply celebrate and move on. Analyse why you might've succeeded. Why was this time different? You might be tempted to think you were simply lucky. While luck can have a small amount to do with success, it's never the whole story, nor even the main story. If you spend the time to uncover the cogs turning behind your successes, then you'll be more likely to make success happen again.
There's so much more to writing than sticking to schedules and following the rules. We are complex creatures who feed on creativity and wild extremes of emotion. Writing helps us make sense of the chaos. So the only time we fail is when we quit writing.
What are some mistakes you've learned from?
Photo: A photo I took a few years ago in a cave on the south coast of Australia.
This post was written for the Insecure Writer's Support Group where we share our encouragement or insecurities on the first Wednesday of the month.
To join the group or find out more, click here
Showing posts with label Rejection. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Rejection. Show all posts
Wednesday, June 4, 2014
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
Learning to Fall
Not so much fun. Where were the cool costumes? What's this boring play? You want me to learn how many lines?
Then I scored a part in Androcles and the Lion. I played a woman who comes across a lion while wandering in the forest. My role included running away and fainting on stage. It sounded simple enough, but to my surprise, I needed to learn to fall down. It's not a matter of just falling. I needed to make sure I didn't injure myself.
I think writers need to learn to fall as well. When I say 'fall' I mean things like getting rejections, not writing a perfect first draft, getting bad reviews, not connecting the story that's in your head with the one you've written on paper etc. There are plenty of ways we can fall. Falling is an inevitable part of the writing process and I think it's better to learn to fall before we try to fly.
How does a writer learn to fall?
First, I think it's important to know it happens and it's normal. You aren't a failed writer if you make mistakes, if your piece isn't perfect, if your favourite agent rejects your story.
Listening to your fear of failure is the one sure way to fail. So arm yourself against it. Ask yourself how much you want the goals you've set yourself. When I did this, my answer was simple. A writing career is so important to me that I'm willing to put in the long hours and the hard work. I'm willing to deal with all the ups and downs.
Here are some other truths you should know:
- Yes, rejections happen to the best of us.
- No, there is no such thing as an overnight success.
- No, the writing path isn't an easy one.
- Yes, we make ourselves vulnerable when we throw ourselves into our stories and share what we've written.
- Yes, it's scary.
- Yes, it's wonderful.
- Yes, we all have a choice. When we fall down, we can either give up, or we can get up, dust ourselves off and keep writing.
How have you learnt to overcome the falls--not just as a writer, but in any part of your life?
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This post was written as part of the Insecure Writers' Support Group. Thank you: A huge thank you to J.C. Martin. I won an Oracle swag pack during her fabulous mystery tour which revealed the cover design for her novel due for release in July.
Thank you also to Debbie Johansson for the Kreativ Blogger Award.
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
The Hard Knocks of Writing
As writers we get knocked down when we’re rejected, knocked over when we’re accepted, and knocked off when we show our work to the public. We even get knocked by friends and family who don’t understand why we pursue this career. Getting knocked around through all the ups and downs is part of the hard knocks of writing.
Even though these knocks are part of the deal, they don’t have to knock us out. We can gain strength and grow as writers. We can change our minds and decide they aren’t knocks after all.
When we’re knocked down through rejection, we can pick ourselves up and learn from the experience. We can revisit our manuscripts, revise our query, and renew our mind-frame. A ‘no’ from one agent isn’t necessarily a ‘no’ from another.
When our work is ‘knocked off’ either through blatant piracy or plagiarism, rather than only feeling mortified, stupefied, and horrified, we can also feel ratified. It’s a great affirmation if someone thinks our work is good enough to steal.
When we’re knocked by friends and family who don’t understand the reasons we write, it’s a great opportunity to practise patience and share with them our joy. Their doubts could also fuel our motivation to succeed.
So, when we’re knocked around because of the highs and lows, we can know it’s normal, that it’s all part of the joyous insanity of writing, and we can remember that we wouldn’t change it for anything.
Have you felt knocked around lately?
Note: This post is part of the A-Z Challenge.
Even though these knocks are part of the deal, they don’t have to knock us out. We can gain strength and grow as writers. We can change our minds and decide they aren’t knocks after all.
When we’re knocked down through rejection, we can pick ourselves up and learn from the experience. We can revisit our manuscripts, revise our query, and renew our mind-frame. A ‘no’ from one agent isn’t necessarily a ‘no’ from another.
When our work is ‘knocked off’ either through blatant piracy or plagiarism, rather than only feeling mortified, stupefied, and horrified, we can also feel ratified. It’s a great affirmation if someone thinks our work is good enough to steal.
When we’re knocked by friends and family who don’t understand the reasons we write, it’s a great opportunity to practise patience and share with them our joy. Their doubts could also fuel our motivation to succeed.
So, when we’re knocked around because of the highs and lows, we can know it’s normal, that it’s all part of the joyous insanity of writing, and we can remember that we wouldn’t change it for anything.
Have you felt knocked around lately?
Note: This post is part of the A-Z Challenge.
Monday, January 31, 2011
The Case of the Eggshell Skin
When I first started writing I didn’t want anyone to read my work. My stories said too much about me. They exposed my inner self. I didn’t want people to judge my writing because I felt as if they judged me instead.
I had skin made of eggshells. Aware of my fragility, I used to seek only approval so that I’d avoid the chance of cracks. It got me nowhere.
Now that I’ve been writing for a few years, my skin has grown a thick rhino layer. How did I do this? My thinking changed. I wanted to improve. I wanted my best work out there. I wanted to be proud of my words. And that meant manning up. I had to let other people read my work, judge my work, tell me my work sucked. I couldn’t allow rejection to break me. I needed to learn. I needed to accept that I can’t please everyone.
Of course, my rhino skin isn’t completely impervious. I still have days I let the doubts creep in. But that’s because I’m human… and a writer.
What’s your skin made of? How do you keep your skin thick? How do you handle criticism and rejection?
I had skin made of eggshells. Aware of my fragility, I used to seek only approval so that I’d avoid the chance of cracks. It got me nowhere.
Now that I’ve been writing for a few years, my skin has grown a thick rhino layer. How did I do this? My thinking changed. I wanted to improve. I wanted my best work out there. I wanted to be proud of my words. And that meant manning up. I had to let other people read my work, judge my work, tell me my work sucked. I couldn’t allow rejection to break me. I needed to learn. I needed to accept that I can’t please everyone.
Of course, my rhino skin isn’t completely impervious. I still have days I let the doubts creep in. But that’s because I’m human… and a writer.
What’s your skin made of? How do you keep your skin thick? How do you handle criticism and rejection?
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