I thought I knew what I was doing, thought this was the one, the book that would get picked up by a publisher. I was sure I’d found an angle no one else had thought of to write about grief, but no. Wouldn’t it have been better if it hadn’t gone to pub board than to be told they passed? I’ve published ten books. Is that it? Do I have no more in me? I’ve invested in every writers conference within driving distance, have spent my kids’ college fund on copier ink, have given up real vacations so I could work on this book. And every agent and editor says, “No quite there yet.” I’ve written myself into a corner and have stared at this problem for two weeks now. Nothing. No solutions. Not a creative thought left in me. If I believed in mojo, I’d say I’ve lost it.
Failure.
Afuriel.
Eruliaf.
No matter how I rearrange the letters, it still spells failure!
You’ve never been that person having this conversation with yourself, have you, writer? No. Me neither. Mostly.
Can we get real?
This is real. It’s part of the internal dialogue of most writers. Not every day, but enough for us to recognize its stench when it circles back. Sometimes it keeps us humble. Sometimes it mires us in gloom, despair, and agony-on-me, for those of us old enough to remember the TV show HeeHaw (I mean, the reruns).
Here’s the encouragement from those who care about, counsel, agent, and edit.
We understand the FEELING. But it is that; a feeling, not actual failure.
Not long ago, I wondered if I’d lost my storytelling abilities! Sound familiar? One more scene. I needed another scene in a story I knew well. I stared at a blank page and watched it stay blank. Déjà vu. I’ve been here before.
For many authors, it will be a rejection or a request for rewrites or a massive tome of editorial notes that can send them into the “I’m a failure” loop.
Can we call ourselves back to a central truth?
In a note to a fellow-author the other day, what came out of my fingers through the keyboard and into the email was something we all may need to consider. I know I did.
You have likely never written a word that hasn’t been at the urging of Jesus. You’ve never told a story for fame or notice. You’ve never created an idea without Him. And you’ve never edited a word without His guidance. (And the same can be true for our editors.)
That said, our commitment to excellence drives us and our longing to tell a great story. But who gets upset about that? Not our editors. The enemy of our souls. Oh, and exhaustion. 🙂
The work will always be hard. When we’re tempted to add the word ‘too’ to hard, we know it’s time to turn to the One who is THE Author to both feed us what we need and to advocate for us even in the unseen.
That day, I was still slogging through my own edits, but I told my author-friend I was beginning to see their “why.” And God was faithfully providing the “how.”
Can we stop being ambushed?
Yes. But just as nothing is impossible for God (Jeremiah 32:27), nothing good happens without intentionality on our part.
When we catch a whiff of that faux-failure smell, we can take a deep breath and choke on it. Or we can recognize it for what it is and…well…open a window for some fresh air that smells like the success living right around the corner.
What techniques have you used to rewrite failure when it wafts your way?
image courtesty of Pixabay
Lazy, Hazy, Crazy Days of Summer