Well you know, the first 800 book proposals I sent out got rejected. 800 in a row. What I discovered was I was not very good at telling my story. I was not very good at understanding my customer. I was not very good at realizing that I needed to become a partner in an industry that did not like people who were acting the way I was acting. Once I learned those things, which took a couple years, I stopped getting rejection letters. If I had not exposed myself to failure I would still be an idiot.

Seth Godin

Failure feels like walking across hot coals while gargling rocks. Failure feels like you want to kick every cliche about the value of failure in the shins. Failure feels like when your first-grade teacher wrote “talk, talk, talk” in the behavior section of your report card. Failure feels like the curtain catching on fire during a production you directed as a high school drama teacher. Failure feels like a script that runs through your mind that says you could/should have worked harder, planned better, done more, or been smarter. Failure feeds the “I am a total fraud” beast. I have experienced a lot of failure. I have written about all kinds of failure. The concept of failure is woven through the fabric of my writing, threaded with strands of redemption, resilience, hope, and strength. I believe with all my heart that failure informs creativity, innovation, and invention failure, but it still hurts.

Failure and Success

Even best-selling authors start as idiots.

We can start as idiots. That is a comforting thought. It is comforting because it lets us know we don’t have to have all the answers immediately. It lets us off the hook from having to be a genius. Ever. It gives us hope that even if we start as idiots, we don’t have to remain idiots. We can learn. We can publish. We can even become a best-selling author. Most importantly, failure provides perspective, insight, and wisdom that change the chemistry of our lives. Through failure, we learn. If we learn from failure, our potential is limitless.

800 is not such a big number.

Eight hundred tries require enormous hardheadedness, flexibility, confidence, humility, and fearlessness. Eight hundred tries means we don’t have to be perfect right out of the gate. We don’t even have to be perfect after 500 tries. We probably never really have to be perfect at all. The older I get, the more I understand the value of simply showing up again and again and again and again. I can expend the effort and energy. There is a weight lifted when I know beforehand, early on, that it will take a while. In this scenario, success, persistence, and resilience are as critical as genius and skill and can generate a fire in the belly. 

Tell your story.

A big part of telling our story is knowing our story. A big part of knowing our story is trying 800 times. Our story means trial and error. Our story means our choices matter. Our story means we pay attention. The words flow from our lips when we know our story with the cut, color, and clarity. Telling our story well invites others to listen, understand, and tell others. I have heard from my favorite writing teachers that only we can tell our stories, and we must. That is important to hear because it speaks to our individual uniqueness. Our uniqueness means we are responsible for telling our stories because only we can do it. The world needs our story to heal and grow. I don’t think we can hear those words enough. The world needs our stories. 

Listen to rejection, but don’t let it stop you.

Listening to rejection does not mean internalizing fear, negativity, and doubt. Take time to process, reflect, and digest. Take time to learn what is valuable and leave the rest. Take time to greet the monkey mind that says, “You are worthless.” Hug it and say, “You are not welcome here. I have important things to do.” Gently listening to rejection makes you better in a tempering-your-steel kind of way. Listening to rejection and making the necessary tweaks and changes generates positive fuel for the engine of your dreams. The idea is to make rejection your ally on life’s journey.

Partner with others.

Partnering is tough. Partnering means vulnerability. Partnering takes time. Partnering means compromise. Partnering means listening. It is difficult for me to write that partnering is not easy. I love to collaborate. I love people. I value feedback. I write better in a group where writing is a communal effort based on feedback and revision. Truly. I want to be that extrovert who combines silk, wit, and wisdom. I want to be that leader who is so stealthy that the people she is leading think they do everything themselves. I want to be a writer whose voice is so clear, personal, and individual that everyone thinks I am writing primarily for them. Being that person, leader, and writer requires I leave the comfort of my isolation and certainty and try, fail, recalibrate, try, fail, recalibrate, and try, fail, recalibrate as much as it takes, maybe even 800 times, to succeed.