When I was growing up and tried to complain that things weren’t going my way, my dad would always tell me to make lemonade out of life’s lemons, which is totally infuriating advice when you’re in the middle of a meltdown/tantrum, but actually incredibly useful.
First, I was really lucky as a writer. I wrote a novel and an agent agreed to try to find a home for it! Then I was unlucky. No dice. Then I was lucky again–a small publisher liked the beginning of my second novel! But, alas, bad luck once again took over. They ended up passing on the project. A few times. Then I got lucky and got a new agent! And then unlucky as many more publishers also passed on Book 2. Then I got lucky again, and found a home for the book!
I could go on and on, but I think you see my point here. Publishing is a rollercoaster ride. Currently, I have a wonderful publisher for my novel, but I’ve launched it in the middle of an economic meltdown. I’ve gotten wonderful reviews and lots of press, but I haven’t hit the NYT Best Seller list. Lucky, unlucky? It could make you crazy if you sit around and stew on it.
I hate rollercoasters. The damn things make me sick and I just don’t see the point of going up, then down, up then down. I’m someone who likes to know, right now, what’s going to happen. What looks like good luck, I’ve learned, is sometimes nothing more than refusing to take bad luck for an answer.
So here’s all I know. I write books. Good ones, I hope, but that’s subjective. I really do the best I can. I love what I do and am thankful for getting to do it. I love the people I get to work with, and the readers I get to meet. I hope I get to keep doing it, and, to that effect, I spend the major portion of my days locked up in my office, in fleece sweatpants, with crazy hair. Once in a while I check my Amazon rankings and chew my fingernails to bits. Lucky? Unlucky? I don’t know anymore. I’m too busy squeezing the lemons to try to figure it all out. But I’m wishing all of you the BEST luck!
Your dad was a smart man. My grandmother always used to say “only boring people are bored” when I was a kid, and it used to drive me crazy, too. But, by golly, she was right!
This publishing thing is a roller coaster ride, Tiffany–and you’re doing a great job keeping it in perspective. I’ve been trying to enjoy the up parts and try to forget the down ones as quickly as possible.
I finished your book and feel lucky to have gotten a chance to read it.
Oh, I love this: “What looks like good luck, I’ve learned, is sometimes nothing more than refusing to take bad luck for an answer.”
Is there any successful person around who doesn’t have a disastrous story to tell in the difficult early days? But they didn’t sit down and cry, they got up and started squeezing those lemons.
One of John Mellencamp’s lyrics goes, “If you can change your mind/you can change your life.” Or something like that.
Thanks, everyone. These days I think just about everybody is reassessing what lucky means. That big house and mortgage and fancy car? Not in these times! And has anyone followed the story about Natasha Richardson? That has me creeped out down to the bone. That’s the unluckiest thing, ever. So sad. But maybe lucky in an awful way because she didn’t have pain and it was quick? I guess these questions lead into the next realm of luck which is, of course, destiny and fate. But that’s a whole, other subject.
She was lucky to have the life she had for 45 years…hey 45 years of good stuff…not to bad.
oops, sorry Eve…”too”
Hey, Eve’s Mom! Yes, I suppose you’re right. Still, it’s scary. I want to bubble-wrap my children for all time. But you just can’t do that in life. Thanks for reading!
Lucky Tiffany. You get to do what you love!
Larramie, I’m going to have to agree with you!