First, I’d like to thank James Moore for covering my ass on the 23rd of last month. As always, his contribution was excellent. It’s pretty much a given that anything with Mr. Moore’s name on the byline will be good. If you haven’ had the opportunity to read one of his novels you’re denying yourself a treat.
Of course I happen to think all of the essays you’ll find here are good. Storytellers Unplugged is a cornucopia of advice and insight from an eclectic group of publishing pros. SU’s talent pool is such a deep one I often wonder why the hell Joe and David bother to keep me around.
Sometimes I think it’s out of a misguided sense of loyalty, since I have been here since the begining. Sometimes, when I’m feeling particularly cynical, I decide they’ve kept me around as a perfect example of just how unsuccessful a person can be in this business.
Only three days ago, after receiving a fresh bit of bad career news, I seriously considered saying to hell with the whole frustrating business. Surely I could find a more enjoyable and lucrative pastime. Collecting and recycling soda cans for instance.
I almost emailed Joe and Dave my resignation from Storytellers Unplugged, even after I decided (perhaps for the millionth time) to stick with the writing thing for a while longer. Compared to the other, infinitely more accomplished members of SU, what did I have to offer?
That is the question that has kept me awake and at my computer until five in the damn morning.
But I have finally figured it out. I have realized that there is one facet of this business where I have always excelled.
I am a magnificent failure.
I’ve been doing this for almost two decades now, and though I have found some limited success in the past eight years, I have still failed at my ultimate goal, not to become the next Big Name in the genre, but simply to achieve mass market success and earn enough with my writing to make it my only job.
I may or may not meet that goal eventually. It may happen in the next couple of years, or maybe in the next couple of decades, if I can continue to stick it out. It may never happen. Writers who are able to support themselves with their craft are the exception rather than the rule. However, every writer who has ever put pen to paper (or fingertip to keyboard) has failed.
Failing is the first lesson every aspiring professional writer learns. Every professional storyteller, from those names displayed on the bestsellers rack to the rows upon rows of midlisters shelved at your local Hastings, began their career by failing.
There are lessons to learn in failure, and the most important is how to keep going in spite of the frustration and disappointment, how to learn from your mistakes, both in your craft and in your business, how to stack up each failure until, standing upon them, you may some day be able to reach your ultimate goal.
You learn to keep on trying.
If I can keep doing it, so can you.
Brian Knight
13 Comments, Comment or Ping
B
Keep your head up, Brian.
You’re a damn good writer, mister, so don’t let anyone (including yourself!) tell you anything different.
Feb 23rd, 2008
eric wilson
Brian, oh, do I hear you on this one. I’ve almost turned in my resignation to Joe and Dave a few times, as well. Some days that sense of failure almost drives me into a WWII Japanese vet-style cave, to live out the rest of my days fighting old demons with a misplaced sense of honor.
Your candor and humor remind me to keep fighting, but to do so out in the open, in the real world, with the pen that is mightier than the sword.
Thank you.
Feb 23rd, 2008
Brian Hodge
This may well be the most agonizing stretch along the path, but most of us encounter it at one time or another, and some more than once.
Four simple words to keep in mind, though:
Delayed never means denied.
Feb 23rd, 2008
Kim Paffenroth
Inspiring words. Thanks
Feb 23rd, 2008
Thomas Sullivan
Maybe you haven’t named all the reasons you write, Brian. I hear you saying that you haven’t become famous enough, rich enough, but I’m not hearing you say the thing that strikes me most about you: that you write because that’s who you are. You purge your soul with words. You’re good at it. You connect. Market success is a poor measure of that. Hell, I’ve been saying I’m an expert on failure all my life. But then, along the way I haven’t found anyone — ANYone — in the food chain who doesn’t want something they don’t have yet. Failure, like success, is always relative. If you quit what you need to express yourself, you’ll have failed yourself. And what you leave unfinished will simply be a measure of how much success you had. It’s a road, Brian, not a destination. Hand in there, guy. And I love Brian Hodges’ “Delayed never means denied.”
– Sully
Feb 23rd, 2008
Jack Kincaid
If I had a choice, a sane choice, I would have stopped by now. Truly. Sincerely. However there’s nothing else to start. There is no other way. No other path. There is only this. This is all there will ever be. To stop it is to cease to live. To cease to live is the only way to stop it. Quite a predicament really. I go forward because I have to. I resent that, but I resent lots of things…
But whatever one’s reason for moving forward, you have not truly failed until you stop trying. I *have* truly failed at too many things already for which most people do effortlessly and take for granted.
Do not define yourself by the mass market filter, which is governed by many forces which we writers have little control over and have marginal if best relevance to the actual work. Not once in five years, that I can remember, have I been turned down for reasons–the deal-breaking reasons–that had anything to do with what was on the pages, which might as well have been blank.
It’s also the genre we work in, you know that.
It’s a crazy business.
Feb 23rd, 2008
Dave Wilson
Jack sort of nailed what I’d have said if he hadn’t already nailed it.
I have almost stopped writing a lot of times, and I realized eventually that it was a delay…or a sidestep, but that even if I didn’t get the pen to paper or fingers to keyboard to record them, the stories were there - the words would haunt me - and I’d be miserable without the release.
For the record, there is no level of “success” necessary to be a member of Storytellers Unplugged. We’ve got, and have, writers from all levels of the craft, and a few who aren’t necessarily even writers. What we share is desire, passion, craft, and a sincere hope to produce lasting impressions with our words.
You are and always have been welcome here, Brian…hell, you’d be in on the author photo alone (lol).
Keep the faith, brothuhman….
DNW
Feb 23rd, 2008
Janet Berliner
You’re can’t be a failure, not if you’re with us.
–Janet
Feb 23rd, 2008
Alma Alexander
Been there. DOne that. Eaten several T-shirts in frustration.
There’s a “why oh why do we do this to ourselves” aspect to this craft. But I could no more not write than I could quit breathing.
I can stop getting published. That can happen to anybody. But I can’t stop being a writer. ANd I do suspect you are in much the same boat.
Feb 24th, 2008
Bill Lindblad
Brian, a few points:
1) If you’re concerned about not measuring up to the talent pool, let me remind you that you, at least, are in the pool. I’m over here wading in another pool entirely, and stunned I was invited to participate. I would also vehemently dispute your self-appraisal.
2) I appreciate your goal and believe you should continue working toward it. Before you throw up your hands in despair, however, I’d remind you of some women. Sheri S. Tepper had her first professional publication in 1963 and didn’t get her first novel published until 20 years later; within five more years she was being included with Garton and F. Paul Wilson in a Night Visions collection. Sue Grafton’s first published novels came out in the late 1960s, and although she kept writing in the interim, it took her until the early 1980s before she produced the Kinsey Milhone series which has made her a millionaire.
Want a third? How about Carol Emshwiller? She was the wife of one of the most popular artists in the field, so it’s not like she didn’t have connections. And her work was appreciated, and it was consistently published, but although she first placed stories back in the 1950s it’s only been until the last decade or two, and particularly within the last five years, that she’s acheived prominence within the SF/F field.
Success can only be acheived with persistence, talent, and luck. You give up on your writing, and all the talent and luck in the world won’t help you reach your dreams. On the other hand, cranking out novel after novel might some day provide an opening for you to show just what skills you truly have… as Dean Koontz could undoubtedly attest.
Feb 25th, 2008
Brian Knight
Thanks all. As always I find the comments following a post to be insightful and intelligent, like the expert commentary following some televised debate or speech. (actually, you all make much more sense).
I hope, for the reader’s sake, that they take the time to read the comments as well as the posts.
Brian
Feb 25th, 2008
Tracy West
Failure is in the eyes of the beholder. You have to think what is failure? You’ve written books and you’ve made people happy. No, you haven’t written mass markets, no, you’re not going to be setting your table with the money you’ve made on book sales, but you’ve written books that have made people happy. You’ve created a following of sorts, fans who are engaged with your writing and look forward to what’s coming next. So while you may not be paying the bills, you are successful at what you’ve set out to do, write good stories that make people happy. Sometimes persistence and patience are two of the hardest things, but there are those of us out there who just feel that one day it will happen. And we’re not giving up on you.
Feb 25th, 2008
Brian Knight
Hey, Cat.
You’re both wrong and right. I have succeeded in meeting some of my goals, just not the big one. I don’t want readers to lose sight of ttis essay’s point though, which is to keep working through failure
Feb 27th, 2008
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