Never Give Up, But...

I recently heard this story:

A guy--let's call him Fred--managed a bar. He was only in his twenties, but he had a real knack for it. He was always coming up with innovative ways to draw a crowd. Under his management, Fred's bar became the most popular after-hours place in town. The business was wildly successful.

When Fred turned thirty, he decided it was time to grow up. He left his job at the bar and went to law school. He got his degree, passed the bar exam, and started practicing law. Fred now had a career, doing what he thought grown-ups should do. He was okay at it. He didn't love it. 

One day, Fred ran into an old friend. They had lunch. The friend was impressed that Fred was now an attorney. Fred admitted it wasn't all he hoped it would be. 

"You know what you should do?' the friend asked. "You should manage a bar."

Fred couldn't believe his ears. "I can't do that for the rest of my life! That's not a career!"

"But you know what?" the friend said. "You were great at it."


As I've written many times before, one of the biggest factors for success is follow-through. Starting a project is easy, but sticking with it after the initial excitement wears off and things get tough takes real work and tenacity.

But follow-through wasn't Fred's problem, was it? He went to law school, passed the bar, and became an attorney. Was he a success? On paper, I suppose, as our culture automatically equates certain occupations with success. On a personal level, though, Fred wasn't all that happy and his job performance was mediocre.

This got me to thinking that the recipe for success is really two-fold: Finish what you start AND Choose something you're naturally good at. 

Fred's talent was in bar management, not law. He resisted the idea of running a bar because it didn't fit his image of success. Should Fred continue to practice law just because it seems to be a more respectable profession? Or should he focus on what he's best at? My guess is that with a little creative thinking, Fred could take those skills that made him a success and parlay them into a career that is more in line with his vision of himself.

Some people have tremendous tenacity, but they focus on the wrong thing. We've all seen those cringe-worthy American Idol auditions of tone-deaf singers that return year after year, swearing to never give up. Our hearts go out to them because we know they're never going to make it as singers and their extreme efforts, though admirable, feel wasted. We wonder why they can't turn that drive toward something they're actually good at.

Assuming you already have a gift for writing, you still need to be on the lookout for misplaced talent. A student in an MFA program may have the high-minded goal of publishing literary fiction when in fact he has the perfect skill set for writing mysteries. Another writer might think novels are a requirement for literary success, but she is great at writing short stories.

The good news is, as artists, our work will naturally guide us toward our abilities. The trick is not to let our egos get in the way. If you want to create serious fiction but everything you write comes out with a humorous twist, embrace it. If you want to be a literary writer, but you excel at genre fiction, embrace it. If you have your heart set on writing short stories but everything you write tends to expand into a novel, embrace it. Don't fight your natural abilities--embrace them.

Then never give up.

A Good Kick in the Pants

Since my last post, I've been taking stock. I've been reading a lot, listening to podcasts for writers, talking to my friends, family, my agent. I've been working on a short story and luxuriating in the freshness of new characters and in the economy of language that short fiction affords. I've been trying to fill the proverbial well as described by Julia Cameron in THE ARTIST'S WAY by taking long walks, riding my bike, watching films, and looking at art. Most of all, I've been doing the soul-searching necessary to decide how to proceed with my stalled novel.

I've had quite a few moments of self-pity. I've felt spent, used up, obsolete. I've felt like the literary world is a grand ball and I am a wallflower, thrilled to be invited to the party but worried that I'll never really fit in. I've spent far too much time fretting over how much time has passed since my last novel. I've looked at the titles on the bestseller lists and decided that the type of books I write are a real long shot for that kind of success.

Blah, blah, blah. Funny how the universe seems to know just when to give you a good kick in the pants.

One day, while I was sulking and cleaning the house (to make myself feel worthy and useful), I was listening to an episode of The New York Public Library's podcast. It was an interview with Cheryl Strayed, the author of WILD. While they were talking about publishing and the writing process, the interviewer relayed this story told by EAT, PRAY, LOVE author Elizabeth Gilbert:
[I found the transcript of the story here.]

I have a friend who’s an Italian filmmaker of great artistic sensibility. After years of struggling to get his films made, he sent an anguished letter to his hero, the brilliant (and perhaps half-insane) German filmmaker Werner Herzog.

My friend complained about how difficult it is these days to be an independent filmmaker, how hard it is to find government arts grants, how the audiences have all been ruined by Hollywood and how the world has lost its taste…etc, etc.

Herzog wrote back a personal letter to my friend that essentially ran along these lines: “Quit your complaining. It’s not the world’s fault that you wanted to be an artist. It’s not the world’s job to enjoy the films you make, and it’s certainly not the world’s obligation to pay for your dreams. Nobody wants to hear it. Steal a camera if you have to, but stop whining and get back to work.”

I repeat those words back to myself whenever I start to feel resentful, entitled, competitive or unappreciated with regard to my writing: “It’s not the world’s fault that you want to be an artist…now get back to work.” 

Wow. This was exactly what I needed to hear.  I copied Herzog's quote and hung it above my desk.

I've been repeating this mantra to myself every day. It helps me remember that this life, this career is of my own choosing and by extension so are the problems that accompany it. No one has asked me to write. The world will continue on just fine if I don't. But I won't be all right--I'll be miserable. So I  must write for me and no one else. I will let go of expectations. I will stop whining and get back to work.

And you know what? Suddenly, I felt the pressure lift off my shoulders. Last night, I was minding my own business, when ideas for the novel surfaced. I grabbed a notebook and starting writing as fast as I could. The well, it seemed, had been replenished.

  

Care About the Work, Not the Result

One of the best books I've read recently is comedienne Amy Poehler's Yes, Please. Part memoir, part advice book, it's chock-full of wisdom for anyone in a creative field. One of my favorite lines in the book is: CARE ABOUT THE WORK, NOT THE RESULT.

Creativity, Poehler says, is where we find our joy and comfort. We need to put our effort into making the highest quality art that we can. This is THE WORK. It's what sustains us, nurtures our soul. It's what we'd want to do even if we weren't getting paid for it. The work is what is in our control.

THE RESULT is something else entirely. It is how our work is received. The result is agents and publishers and bestseller lists and awards. It's our career--and much of it is outside our control. Poehler describes career as "a bad boyfriend" who "ignores you and doesn't call, who flirts with other people right in front of you. With a bad boyfriend, you're never satisfied." You'll always want more.
The best way to handle a career, like a bad boyfriend, Poehler says, is to ignore it. If you ignore it, it will come to you.

While this approach may work with bad boyfriends, it's easy to wonder if the analogy is truly apt for writing careers. How can we ignore our careers? We all know that in a crowded marketplace we have no hope of getting noticed if we sit idly by. It seems easy for Poehler to say 'ignore it' when she's among the most famous comedians of her generation. She can afford to ignore it, while the rest of us can't.

'Ignore' is perhaps the wrong word here, though I think her sentiment is essentially correct. Poehler references Buddhism many times throughout the book and what I think she's trying to espouse is the Buddhist concept of non-attachment. Yes, we must do all of those things required of us to bring attention to our work, but we need to free ourselves from caring about what happens afterwards. For instance, we should definitely schedule author appearances but try not to be upset if the crowd is small. We do what we can and then recognize the rest is out of our hands. We should promote our work to the best of our ability, but not be disheartened if it doesn't hit the bestseller list.

The hard truth is that fame and fortune in any creative field is a crap shoot. While we'd like to believe that if we work hard enough we can make ourselves successful in the most conventional sense of the word, luck and timing have a great deal to do with it. It's impossible to know what will strike a chord with the public. Just look at what is popular in current culture right now. What we choose to elevate as a culture is funny and unpredictable.

My daughters both participate in a computer programming community on the web. The most popular program? A three-second animated loop of dancing yams. Thousands of people like it. Personally, I don't get it--they look like orange polar bears to me. The point is, it's impossible to predict what is going to take off. I doubt even the kid who created up the program could have dreamed it would receive so much attention. [Actually, if you look at his comments in the sidebar, he's just as surprised as anyone.]

Instead of being discouraged by outcomes, we need to put our energy not into what we can't control but into the work itself--the very thing that sustains us. Do it for yourself and no one else. Take pride in creating your very best work, then let the rest go. The work must be its own reward.

The Summer of Crazy

It's been an interesting summer.

In early May I turned in the "first draft" of my second adult novel. "First draft" is in quotes because I've rewritten it more times than I can count but this is the first time my agent is seeing it, so for all intents and purposes it's considered a first draft. There will be many, many more drafts to follow.

My expectations were high when I turned it in. This draft took me nine years to write, mainly because I was raising twins and writing wasn't my biggest priority. Still, I worked on it consistently. I adored my main character. I was certain my writing skills had reached a whole new level. Except for showing a scene or two to a few friends, I kept it all to myself. Finally being able to hand in the finished draft to my agent left me euphoric. It was like keeping a secret for nine years and finally being able to share it with someone.

As many of you already know, submitting an unsolicited manuscript and waiting to hear back is tough. You throw your work out into the void and wait...and wait...and wait. Believe me--the wait doesn't get any easier even after you sign on with an agent. Conventional wisdom says that you need to dive immediately into another writing project to take your mind off of the wait. I knew this, but purposely ignored it. It was party time. I caught up with friends. I went out for lunch. I read. I cooked. I spent time with my family. I enjoyed my freedom. I didn't write a thing.

A month went by, then two. Then the crazy started to settle in. I constantly checked my phone, my email. Why wasn't he calling? It could have been any number of reasons: Book Expo America....a heavy work load...summer vacation (after all, the publishing industry switches to a four-day week from Memorial Day to Labor Day).  I used to work at an agency as an assistant and I know how hard agents work and how long it can take to hear back...and yet I felt like I was a teenager all over again, waiting for a boy to call.

Did I do something wrong? OMG do you think he hates me? 

When my agent finally got back to me, the news wasn't what I wanted to hear. He loved my writing, but he didn't love the book--at least not the way I did. Even though I've worked to toughen my hide, I took it hard. Really hard. I was baffled. I thought this was the best work I'd ever done--how could he not agree? I tried to write something new but my well had run completely dry.

After I had a little time to digest the news, my agent and I had a long conversation about the manuscript. I was afraid we wouldn't agree on some major elements, but I kept an open mind. It turns out, everything he said was right on the money.  I was blown away by his skill as a reader. The changes he proposed had the potential to crack the story wide open and make it so much better and weren't nearly as daunting as I thought they were going to be. Instead of nursing my hurt ego, I turned my energy toward creating the best story I could.

There was so much I took away from this experience: 

1) Communicate. If your agent is taking a wee bit too long to respond, don't be afraid to reach out with an email (this only applies to those who are already signed with an agent--if you've submitted a manuscript on spec it's better to sit tight and wait to be contacted). It turns out that my agent was inundated with manuscripts from many of his clients at the same time. Had I known this, I would have done a better job of keeping the crazy at bay. I communicated this to him and he apologized for not telling me why there was a delay. Don't be afraid to politely let your agent know what you need!

2) Don't freak out until you have all the facts. This applies to all things in life. Often the scenario in our heads is worse than reality.

3) Publishing might be even harder than I thought. Even if your agent loves your first book, there's no guarantee that he'll love everything you ever do. Even if you've been accepted by a major publisher there's no guarantee that you'll ever be published again. Even if you've kind of made it (heck, I had a great review in The New York Times! My book was on CBS's Sunday Morning!) there's never a point when you can sit back and relax--the battle is continuous and uphill all the way. Which is actually kind of a good thing, I suppose. It keeps us from getting lazy.


And finally...

4) Appreciate every little bit of success that comes your way.  I've always appreciated my success, but maybe I didn't appreciate that luck played a part, too. Will luck come my way again? I hope so. All I know is that I'm going to work hard to be prepared should it decide to make another appearance.

Seizing Opportunities vs. Being an Opportunist

About ten years ago I did something that I still feel bad about.

A friend and colleague of mine had a meeting with some producers at MTV to pitch a show—it was quite a coup for him and he was very excited about the meeting. Instead of celebrating this success with him, I started thinking about how I could benefit from this meeting. After all, I had created a book series that had great potential as a TV show, and gee, it wasn’t every day that someone I knew was rubbing elbows with television producers. Even though I knew deep down that I was crossing the line, I asked him to bring along a copy of my series treatment and slip it to someone important when he had the chance.

Never mind that I was putting him on the spot. Never mind that he had his own pitch to worry about. Never mind that slipping my treatment to the producers could make him look unprofessional. Never mind that I was jeopardizing our friendship.

When he returned from the meeting, I asked him how it went. He said he didn’t have a chance to give my treatment to anyone. He couldn’t look me in the eye when he said this, which led me to believe that he had simply not chosen to do it. I was disappointed—and ashamed of my behavior.

When you start seeking out opportunities, it’s easy to get greedy. If you’re not careful, you can start seeing the people around you as commodities. There’s a fine line between seizing opportunities and being an opportunist; you need to be aggressive enough to kick doors open, but not so aggressive that you exploit people’s kindness and personal relationships. Here are a few guidelines to help you get ahead without stepping on any toes:

1) Information is free—action is not. One of the best ways to create opportunities is to ask questions. When successful people have the time, they are usually more than happy to share their expertise. Be polite, listen with true interest, and ask the right questions and you’d be surprised what opportunities can open up for you. Sometimes they might even offer to help you out in a more concrete way. If they don’t, it’s best not to ask for any favors. There are, of course, many exceptions— you just have to be able to read the person and the situation correctly. When in doubt, thank them for their time and be happy with the information you have.

2) Assume the other person’s time and resources are more valuable than yours. If you remember this rule, you are much more likely to approach any situation in a more generous frame of mind. Sure, you might be the next Jonathan Safran Foer, but you still need to assume that most people are too busy to talk to you—because most of them are. Rather than thinking, “You’ll want to help me because I’m going to be famous someday,” you should use phrases like, “I hope I’m not disturbing you…” or “Thank you for your time” or “If you have a moment to spare, I’d love to find out about…” Then be as brief and concise as possible. You don’t have to grovel—just be considerate.

3) If someone does you a favor, be accommodating. If they agree to a phone interview, call on time. If they agree to meet you in person, let them choose the time and place, and if your schedule is busy, move mountains to be there at the time that is best for them. If they agree to read your manuscript, give them as much time as they need.

4) If someone does you a favor, don’t ask for another. Once someone has helped you out, it may be tempting to squeeze just one more favor out of them. You have to be aggressive to get ahead, right? What will likely happen is that you’ll look greedy and may even come across as a bit of a pest, which will only backfire on you. Accept the favor and then search out other opportunities.

5) A little gratitude goes a long way. This may be the most important tip to remember. If you’re meeting in person, buy them lunch or a cup of coffee. Send thank you notes. Let them know that you appreciate what they’ve done.

The main goal of showing gratitude and consideration is to be respectful of others—the side benefit is that you will build a favorable impression and maybe even a lasting relationship. Arrogance closes doors, respect opens them.

Good Enough Opportunities

A few weeks ago I watched an episode of Gordon Ramsay’s Kitchen Nightmares and the show had me in fits. For the uninitiated, Ramsay is a famous chef and TV personality with restaurants all over the world, who swoops into troubled eateries and saves them from financial and culinary ruin. Ramsay’s style runs somewhere between foul-mouthed drill sergeant and exasperated life coach. With a little cleaning, some blunt advice, and a whole lot of free publicity, Ramsay usually manages to turn the restaurant around.

Not so with Piccolo Teatro, a tiny vegetarian restaurant in Paris, which was the subject of the episode that made me crazy. The restaurant was bleeding money, yet it appeared that no one was making any effort at all—not even with Chef Ramsay standing by and pointing out the problems. The cook was goofy and unprepared. The restaurant’s only waitress quit the second Ramsay criticized her. The owner, the worst offender of all, was lazy and had no authority. At times, it seemed as though she cared about saving her restaurant, and then she’d do something like stay home all day (without informing anyone) because she said her cat was having kittens. Instead of making an effort, she was full of excuses.

Despite revamping the menu, hiring a young, talented new chef, starting a lunch service and making the restaurant profitable again, even Ramsay couldn’t save Piccolo Teatro. When he returned to Paris a few weeks later for a follow-up, he discovered that the owner had closed the restaurant.

Arrrrgggghhhh!!!!!!

It seems inconceivable that someone with so many great opportunities, with a road map to success spelled out explicitly, would just throw it all away. I can’t begin to speculate as to her reasons for giving up, but I do know that some people are so afraid of success or failure that they’ll sabotage every opportunity that comes their way, sometimes without even consciously knowing it. I truly believe that what separates successful people from the rest of the pack is not talent or money or connections—it’s hard work, perseverance, and most of all the ability to seize opportunities, no matter how small.

When I moved to New York City from a small town in Maine, I hardly knew anyone. I was 22 and timid, largely unfamiliar with city life, and had no connections. I had just enough money to last in New York but a few months. I knew my time was limited there. I also knew that if I went back home right away, my chances of having a career in the publishing business would be zip. Back home, I had been offered a great position in sales by someone who had seen me working at my summer job. The offer included a car and a great salary, and the security of being in familiar territory. All I had to do was say the word and the job was mine. The problem was, this opportunity didn’t coincide with my goal of working in publishing and becoming a writer. I was scared to be in New York, but the thought of giving up on my goals—without giving it a real try—was even scarier.

I made a promise to myself that whatever publishing opportunity came along I would take it, no matter what. It didn’t have to be a perfect opportunity, just a good enough opportunity. I didn’t have resources to wait for something perfect, which may or may not have materialized, anyway.

I found my first job through the New York Times’ classifieds. The position was for a file clerk in the accounting office of a small literary agency. It paid very little. I wasn’t sure I could handle the accounting they wanted me to do. It wasn’t a perfect opportunity (or so I thought at the time) but it was good enough. Jump in first, I told myself, and figure out the rest as it comes. I had nothing to lose.

I wasn’t there but five months when I co-worker told me about one of the agency’s clients—a company that packaged book series for teenagers. She told me they needed ghostwriters. That’s all I needed to hear. I asked around and got more information about the process. I made a phone call. I wasn’t really interested in writing books for teenagers, but I was interested in writing, period. Good enough.

Within a few weeks I had my first ghostwriting contract and was writing at night in addition to my day job. My income doubled and I was leading a comfortable existence in New York. Soon I was writing, building valuable contacts, learning everything I could about the publishing industry, and writing books along the way. Good enough opportunities turned out to be perfect opportunities. I ended up spending six productive and fun years in the city, and used all that I learned along the way to get my first adult novel published.

And as far as Kitchen Nightmares goes, the episode did end on bit of a bright note. Even though Piccolo Teatro closed, Gordon Ramsay saw tons of potential in the young chef he had hired for the restaurant, and offered her a new job in one of his own kitchens. I’m happy to say that she jumped at the opportunity.