My sister gave me this biography of playwright Wendy Wasserstein for Christmas. It is a masterfully told tale of a complex woman, and a fantastic profile of what it takes to make art. I'd recommend it for anyone interseted in theater, writing, creativity and women making their way in the world.
five reasons good writers fail
Let’s assume you are a good writer. You have learned the mechanics of language, you understand the structure of your chosen genre, and you have the ability to write a sentence, a phrase and a paragraph that has rhythm, resonance and meaning. Let’s also assume that you have the desire for your work to be read by someone other than your cat. And let’s go way out on a limb and assume that by the time I finish writing this piece, there will still be book publishers in business, booksellers who have kept the faith, and book buyers with disposable income. For the majority of writers, these assumptions hold true. So why do some writers succeed (which is to say that they finish their work, they get it into they marketplace, they continue to find inspiration and joy, they keep putting words on the page) and other fail (which is to say that their work languishes, they never send it out, they become someone who used to love words, who used to see the world through story, who used to have a dream of being a writer)? There are, of course, as many answers as there are writers, but in my years as a writer, a writing instructor and a writing coach, I have seen some of the same ones occur again and again. Here are five:
1. Delusions of Grandeur. A lot of first-time writers believe that they’re going to sell their book for several million dollars, lure Julia Roberts into taking an option on film rights, and land a spot on Oprah — all within a few hours of finishing their manuscript. It happens like that every once and awhile, but if you count on it, chances are you’re just setting yourself up for failure. Successful writers set goals that are much more attainable - like writing three good pages or getting one sentence to sing.
2. A Warped Sense of Reality. Most would-be writers have a fundamental misunderstanding of what the job actually entails. You know all the drama, camaraderie and excitement you see on TV sitcoms about ad agencies and law firms and police departments and emergency rooms? None of that shoulder-slapping fun happens for writers, ever, because we’re always sitting alone in rooms. Every so often, you may see a famous, bestselling writer under the bright lights, making witty comments and wearing great shoes, but when the show is over, that writer is going back to her quiet room and she’s sitting there, alone, for several more years until her next book is done. It’s exceedingly lonely work - and most people simply aren’t comfortable being alone with themselves and their thoughts for that long. They fail simply because they like the idea of being a writer, but not the reality.
3. Ignoring the Story. An interesting experience or an interesting life does not automatically make for an interesting book. Stories need to be shaped, they need to make sense, they need to have a point — and writers, therefore, need to stand back and look at their ideas with a ruthless eye. You need to ask, “What’s my story really about? And why would anyone care? And what’s the best way to tell it?” And you need to come up with answers. Tom Clancy says, “The difference between fiction and reality is that fiction has to make sense.” The exact same thing can be said about memoir or narrative non-fiction, as well. A good idea is never enough.
4. Ignoring the Marketplace. A book is a labor of love, but once it’s finished, it becomes something else entirely: a product that’s part of a business that’s trying to turn a profit. (Remember our assumption that you wanted someone besides your cat to read your manuscript? Another word for those people is customers.) Now granted, the business of bookselling is filled with really wonderful people who love words and stories and who have willfully gone into a field where people routinely make a fraction of what they make in other businesses, but still, these people are interested in putting food on the table and sending their kids to college. They need to sell books. And although you may have gotten really comfortable sitting alone in your room, now it’s time to go out and meet people: local booksellers, busy book bloggers, other writers with clever ideas for reaching out to readers. Yes, that’s right: to be a successful writer, you’re going to have to twitter, and get a Facebook, and join the Author’s Guild, and drive through rush hour traffic to attend a book club with thirteen members who together bought three copies of your book on discount at amazon and you’re going to have to smile and thank them, because they are your customers. And no, your publisher is not going to pay for you to do any of this. In fact, it will cost you.
5. Self doubt. All writers feel it. You think your idea sucks. You think your writing sucks. You recall the horrible thing your fifth grade teacher said about your prose and you’re sure, now, that he was right. You finally finish your book and you’re convinced you’ll never have another good idea. You finally publish your book and you’re convinced it won’t sell. Your book sells and you’re convinced it was a fluke. My friend, whose book was nominated for a National Book Award, believes that self doubt increases exponentially along with success. “You should hear the winners of Pulitzer Prizes go on,” she said. But successful writers don’t stop writing just because they feel crushing self doubt. They find ways to carry on, despite it. Elizabeth Gilbert has a lovely word for this act, and it’s not faith. It’s self forgiveness.





