Into the Fire

Failing to do something means to not accomplish what was either required or desired. Failure itself exudes too many possibilities to explore in a blog post.

So. Let’s limit ourselves to the all-too-familiar aspects of writing. Journeys taken. Destination goals. Places reached. Or not.

Stephen Parolini, writer, author, screenwriter, editor, over at Noveldoctor wrote a painful post entitled “10 Reasons You Don’t Have an Agent” (http://www.noveldoctor.com/).

Michael Snyder, writer and author of My Name Is Russell Fink and his new release Return Policy, wrote a terrific piece over at The Master’s Artist (http://aratus.typepad.com/tma/) which made me nearly cheer out loud—or perhaps that’s known as col these days.

And still another interesting concept on fiction writing by Debbie Fuller Thomas, author of Tuesday Night at the Blue Moon and Raising Rain, appeared at Novel Matters (http://novelmatters.blogspot.com/).

If we let others determine our successes and failures, chances are we will experience extremes at both ends. Perhaps there is no better demonstration of this than in writing. Subjectivity plays a major role in what anyone likes, loves, hates. In the publishing world there are so many variables added on to the writing part (i.e. platform, projected sales) that “success” or “failure” can’t be guaranteed.

So who gets to determine our failure(s)? I have failed to secure an agent or a publisher with my meager queries. The sting of rejection at the few different attempts leaves me sometimes paralyzed and often disenchanted. Once again it feels like high school where the popular crowd dictates your value as a human being, and somehow I’m out there on the fringe. Which is kind of where I like to be. At times. Because once in awhile the view is clearer out here than when you’re all sucked into the preconceived and accepted role of “author”. Out here there is perspective which tells you that God has seen your work and knows your heart and it’s okay to bring Him up and talk about how He gave you the stories and the words because without Him you couldn’t write your own name! And nobody rolls their eyes or instructs you to never admit that in a query. Because if whoever is reading your query thinks God couldn’t possibly be responsible for such drivel, you’re immediately not trustworthy because only you could’ve put together the slop appearing in their inbox, and to slander the Lord by professing it was His inspiration—well, geez Louise, don’t even go there!

I’ve failed many times at many things in my lifetime. Emotionally, physically, and spiritually. Regret surfaces frequently when recalling the multiple experiences. However, as is over-said, there can be learning, growth, acquired wisdom from failures. I testify this is true. But not always. Nope. Huh-uh. Sometimes failure is borne of self-willed disobedience and bears no excuse other than rebellious stupidity. Consequences to follow. Most unpleasant. Worse than that at times.

But in writing, failure can be immeasurable. And invisible. And apparent. And hidden. And obvious. And not so obvious. Subjective.

I don’t have a failure button on my novel experience. Do you?

Father, my hope is in you. Period. Let my obedience to you be paramount. In all things. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.