Yesterday someone asked a group of us the question: how do you define success?
His answer was much more altruistic than mine. Mine sounds something along the lines of “being able to thrive, not just survive, in day to day life, and still be happy about the way you got there.” His was more like “Helping the people around me succeed, which in turn means I’ve succeeded.” Then again, he’s in management, I decided about two years ago I’d rather not be.
But this conversation came to mind again today when I was watching an author talk about a short story he’s been trying to get published. He’s submitted it to a small handful of professional magazines with very low acceptance rates. He’s been short listed each time, but in the end rejected each time – along with some very polite and personal rejection letters. His question was “Does this mean there’s something wrong with the story?”
My initial response is to remind him these are very competative markets, frequently with less than a 1% acceptance rate. There’s probably nothing wrong with the story, he just needs to look at different markets. I didn’t say this though, because I thought about it some more. I traced it back to previous conversations and remembered this indivual has a different definition of publishing success than I do. For him, having to lower himself to semi-pro, or even non-paying markets can be a black mark against his success.
My view is different, and since success is such a personal thing, it’s not my place to try and change his definition. When I apply my own personal view of success to my writing, it doesn’t look the same as other peoples. This is something I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about over the years. I used to think success meant being one of those 250 people who’s always an NYT best seller and can live off their stories.
I’ve redefined that. Don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t walk away from it. Are you kidding me? I’d still probably sell my soul for it. But only if I got to write the contract. “You get my soul, but only if these very specific conditions are met.”
(These things are based not only on my novels I have yet to find a home for, but on the handful of short stories I’ve sold over the last year. And these are mine. I’m in no way implying that they should or should not be yours).
– I’m willing to polish my work to make it mainstream, sellable and relatable. There are certain basic plot elements I’m not willing to remove because that destroys the nature of the story
– I’m willing to take a smaller paycheck if that means I’m more comfortable working with the publisher. I’m not willing to send my work to any jackass with WordPress – or sign away certain copyrights – just to see my name in someone else’s publication.
– I’m willing to submit my work to small POD publishers if I think that’s the right place for it. I’m not willing to self publish just to be able to hold a copy of my work in my hands. I have a printer for that.
This isn’t the first time I’ve made a ramble like this, and I’m sure it won’t be the last, but as I learn more about myself and the industry (any industry, really), my defintion of success shifts and refines itself. And I think it’s important for people to know what they really want from their writing, and what they are and aren’t willing to compromise in order to get it.
When the day comes that you’ve gotten that offer from an agent, a publisher, an employer, are you going to have an idea of where your boundaries are?
I hope so. I hate how certain resumes or job applications have a sections for rewards and other “successes” cause I never know what to write. In general, I don’t feel very accomplished when it comes to anything really. It sometimes feels like if there was no reward or something that bad what I’ve done a big deal then it may not even be worth mentioning. Sometimes not even with an award. This is probably something I should work on so that one day I can see something I do as a success once it has happened.
Sure, I’d like the think if an agent made an offer I’d considered that a success but it’s hard to tell until it actually happens.
Great topic, by the way.
I thought I’d get published one day. Then I started circulating my world, and my stories were jarring to other people. So I started to wonder: what do I really want?
I want to spread my stories. I’m sure that in 6.5billion people out there I can find 5000 that are likeminded. So how do I get to those 5000? If trad.pub.won’t have me, would I self-publish? Why not. There are e-books. I have printed with POD my graphic novels. The novels will probably be e-book only – or maybe I’ll have a POD copy on Lulu as well. Not because I want to see myself in print, but because I want to find those likeminded readers. They don’t need to be millions for me to reach success. Do I make sense?
Barb
@Dawn – from where I sit, you’ve accomplished smoe great things. But if it doesn’t look that way to you, it doesn’t matter what I think. I hope when you re-examine, you discover just how far you’ve come ^_^
@Barb – it makes perfect sense. I think there’s a place for small run/self published work and it sounds like you’ve figured that out. I can agree with you that finding that small group of people who think the way I do is more important to me literarily than selling tons and tons of books.