Tag Archives: writers

Failure, Fear, Rejection and Resilience

Creative people are afraid of failure, and too often we fear our creative process and creative ability. In the last two weeks I’ve explored this in: Why Are Creative People Afraid of Failure and Creative People: Fear Not.

In the words of Inigo Montoya, “Let me explain. There is too much; let me sum up.”

Every writer and creative person will define it differently, but at the core, failure is a sense of inability to reconcile the imagined world and the real world, seeing the shortfall between the expectation and reality.

Failure is not an absolute. It is teaching and learning process, and a creative tool.

When we are afraid, fearful of creating, we need to trust in our abilities and skills, our planning and the quality of work.

Turn the fear into a motivating factor. Let it become a driving force.

Turn your fear into excitement. It’s the same chemical in the brain; different interpretation.

Don’t let the fear defeat you.

Summary completed, let’s move on.

When we create we are afraid of failure.

When we create we are afraid of rejection.

If we let the fear of failure consume our creative lives, we become hollow, desolate shells.

Creating anything artistic has within in it a risk of rejection; it is inevitable. It is another aspect of feeling like a failure when a story does not find a publisher, an artwork is rejected for an exhibition or a film is poorly received.

As creative people we feel the emotional knock down of rejection particularly hard. It undermines our ability to create and produce, makes us question our vision and belief in our abilities. Rejection can compound the feeling of failure, a double dose of sucker-punch. Rejection can be demoralising and quench the creative spark that burns within you.

Rejection will happen. It’s how we cope with rejection that will define our creativity. In the face of fear, failure and rejection it is our ability to be resilient, the ability to “bounce back” from adversity and stress.

My writing partner, Jodi Cleghorn, pointed me to this article from The Huffington Post:

“Resilience is practically a prerequisite for creative success, says Kaufman. Doing creative work is often described as a process of failing repeatedly until you find something that sticks, and creatives — at least the successful ones — learn not to take failure so personally.

“Creatives fail and the really good ones fail often,” Forbes contributor Steven Kotler.”

We know we are going to fail and have our work rejected. When we are resilient in the face of failure and rejection we will produce creative works that are more in balance with our ideal world and the real world, closing the gap between expectation and reality.

How can a creative person build resilience in their creative life in the face of fear, failure and rejection?

1. Believe in the skills and talents you have

If you have invested the time into developing, refining and improving your creative skills, trust that you will continue to create good art. 

Always be a learner of your craft. Continually seek ways to improve your writing by writing in a different genre or painting in a different medium. Get feedback from trusted people. 

2. Know the vision you have for your creative work

I created a manifesto to give me vision for the type of stories I want to tell. I  revisit it from time to time as a reminder. One day I will perhaps amend it as my creative journey continues, to reflect the change and development of my work.

3. Set regular goals

The SMART Plan (Specific, Measurable, Achievable, Realistic, Time-framed) is a great way of tracking your progress regardless of rejection. It keeps you focused on producing, not being bogged down by rejection. Every piece of new work is a step closer to achieving and fulfilling your goals.

My goals are worked out month to month. It’s short and specific and allows me flexibility with the demands of my day job. I have a big picture of the next few years of where I want to go and what I want to do, but I allow enough flexibility for change. 

4. Develop a strong creative network

Everyone needs a cheer squad; someone to put on the rah-rah skirt and wave the pom poms when you’re feeling flat, dejected and uninspired. 

I have a small, closed group on Facebook, made up of writers of different shapes and forms and it is a positive environment to seek feedback, preview new work or have a whinge. We live in different parts of Australia but the online connection means we champion each others’ causes.

5. Look for the positives

Whack on a pair rosy coloured glasses, preferably with a Dame Edna vibe to it, and look at your work in a positive light. As a writer it is too easy to look at all the errors when editing rather than see the fantastic sentences or paragraphs surrounding the small errors.

Fear is natural when we are uncertain, in doubt or under stress.

Failure is not a negative experience but a teaching tool. 

Rejection comes with the creative territory if we are putting our work out there for our audience.

Resilience says, “You are a creative individual” and tells you, “You can do it.” It picks you up, often by the scruff of the neck, dusts you off, smacks you on the bum and tells you to, “Get out there and try again.”

How do you develop resilience as a creative person?

Degenerate Dictionary Giveaway – Arsenic: A cut on the bum

Let’s have a bit of fun!
Enter for a chance to win a $20 Amazon gift card + more!

Degenerate Dictionary stemmed from a party game Jessica Bell’s parents used to play when she was a kid. Her mother and her best friend had so much fun thinking of funny definitions to regular words that they began to write them down. Unfortunately, that little maroon notebook got lost.

But Jessica remembered a couple:

ARSENIC: A cut on the bum.
PROPAGANDA: Having a good look.

In 2013, she began posting these quirky, idiosyncratic, new definitions of familiar words on Twitter and Facebook with the hash tag #Jessicasdictionary.

I  soon chimed in with some of my own:

QUOTIDIAN: one who exclusively uses sayings, proverbs & maxims to update social media status
DIPTHONG: putting your toe into a pool or other body of water to test its temperature

The exchange went back and forth over a few days until Jessica emailed me. The gist of the message was: Would you like to write a dictionary with me?

Me: *brief pause* Yeah!

And so, what once was a party game played by Jessica’s muso parents in the 80s, then became #Jessicasdictionary almost 35 years later, and is now called Degenerate Dictionary and will soon become a BOOK.

Perfect for every school *cough* classroom *cough*. (I am so giving away a class set to my senior English class).

So what’s the GIVEAWAY?

The launch of this project is going great. So Jessica Bell and I are celebrating the speedy progress of Degenerate Dictionary. And we are giving away TWO $20 Amazon gift cards.

Jessica is also throwing in any eBook of hers that you wish to have (i.e. ALL of them if you want them.)
 
There are two ways you can enter:
 
The FUN way:
Write an example sentence using one of our Degenerate Dictionary words and tweet it to @DegDic. The author of the sentence we like best will win a $20 gift card + my books. With your permission, we will also include it in the book when it’s published. With credit of course!
 
Example tweet:
Everyone saw my sparkly string while waiting in the *stationary*. @DegDic Join in to win here: http://ow.ly/uEvA8 #giveaway
 
Note: When you tweet your example sentence, make sure the word in question is inside two asterisks, that the link is included, the #giveaway hash tag is included, and that the @DegDic handle is included. Otherwise we won’t see it. Don’t forget to replace the sentence with your own!
 
The CLINICAL way:
Enter the contest via the rafflecopter below. The winner selected via the rafflecopter will also win a $20 gift card + Jessica’s books.

CLICK HERE TO ENTER THE RAFFLECOPTER.

You may enter both ways to double your chances.

Good luck! Please spread the word!

Sense of Wonder – Micropoetry

Sense of Wonder

should I ever lose
my sense of wonder
at the occurrence
of the everyday:
a pencil, socks, books, hugs
the child in me
is lost

The Only Proof – Micropoetry

The Only Proof

the only proof
I ever existed
was meeting
a stranger’s eyes
acknowledgment of
another presence
for the length
of a heartbeat

The Act of Creation – Micropoetry

The Act of Creation

When I create
I destroy
The pencil dulls
The paper soiled
What I have destroyed
Is a crucible
For the phoenix
To live again

The Piano Accordion – Micropoetry

The Piano Accordion

The wheezy rattle
Of the squeezebox
Amused us
When we played it as kids
In my grandfather’s hands
It sang love songs

Capes and Undies – Micropoetry

Capes and Undies

It’s hard to be a superhero
When your cape is caught
On the door handle
And you’re left outside
The door in
Only your undies

Why Are Creative People Afraid of Failure?

I am going to say the F-word. It’s not a word we like to hear, nor is it a word we like to use. It exists in our vocabulary but it is very rarely used.

I’m going to say it. Ready?

Failure.

Now, tell me, how do you feel? And remember, this is for posterity, so please, be honest (Thank you, Count Rugen, you six-fingered man of wisdom).

A recurrent refrain is, “I feel like I failed,” said with the tone of negativity intimating it has the finality of death.

I feel like I have failed. I look back over the last year and the first few months of this year and I have failed. I have failed in achieving what I wanted to achieve. I did not meet my writing goals. I did not meet my reading goals. I look over recent writing and now think it stinks worse than the night after a hotdog and baked bean eating contest.

The stereotype of the artistic person as a neurotic, shambolic, ridden-with-fear and afraid of being called a fraud is prevalent in my social media feeds. I see many writers and creative people who declare their insecurities and fears, and I’m no different.

We are afraid of failing.

For example, my collaborative writing partner, Jodi Cleghorn, spoke at her editing workshop, and elaborated on by Delia Strange (How To Stop Hating Your Manuscript) that when you’re editing, you are looking for the faults and problems. It does make you feel like your work is something filthy you’ve stepped in and fit only to be scraped from the bottom of a shoe and discarded. It feels like failure.

The attitude must change.

Recognise the positive attributes of your work, and be aware that you are there to fix the negatives, not be defined by them.

The fear of failure needs to be put to pasture with the myth of the muse.

I see in the students I teach a distinct fear of failure. They would rather not complete a task, therefore failing, rather than attempt the task and risk knowing their work is only worth a Pass. It reinforces their sense of self worth and perception of their ability.

The issue for my students is they cannot see how disciplined effort, feedback and commitment to learning can improve the quality of their work, improve their sense of self worth and individuality.

What constitutes ‘failure’?

Every writer and creative person will define it differently but at the core is a sense of inability to reconcile the imagined world and the real world, seeing the shortfall between the expectation and reality.

Whatever measure you have used against yourself, whether it’s word count, project completion, editing, planning, plotting, the discrepancy between “achieved” and “not achieved” will be interpreted as failure.

What do you do when you feel like you have failed?

Rethink the definition and the perception of what failure is.

When I look at business people and entrepreneurs, their definition of failure is different to that of a stereotypical creative person. They see failure not as an absolute, but as an opportunity.

Failure is always an option. I love seeing it on the Mythbusters t-shirts. Failure is an opportunity for teaching (if you are willing to be taught).

As writers, our characters are faced with failure and disappointment but they learn, or fail to learn from their experience. It is what makes a narrative engaging. Why can’t we learn from our characters and look at our creative endeavours as learning experiences?

Failure is not an absolute.

Failure is teaching and learning process.

Failure is a creative tool.

Let’s start speaking positively about ourselves and understand our failures do not define who we are.

Our perceived failures help us to refine our work, develop our creative skills and in the words of Neil Gaiman, “Create good art.”

It is not our failures that will speak for us but the quality of our creativity.

Fear not.

Barred Vision – Micropoetry

Barred Vision

Standing at the kitchen window
The cross beam of the pane
Demarcates sand/ocean
Standing back the beam
Separates ocean/horizon

A Creative Person Teaches People to Listen

Dame Evelyn Glennie is an extraordinary percussionist and gave this insightful TED talk in 2003 (I only came across it recently) in Monterey, California. And she has a beautiful Scottish lilt in her voice.

It has been sitting in the back of my head, slowly composting. As a writer and a drummer, I wanted to find the connection between music and writing, to apply the principles of music to that of writing and creativity, and what it takes for a creative person to teach others to listen.

It’s a long presentation (just over half an hour) so here is the TL;DR version of highlights I picked out.

Evelyn Glennie – How to Truly Listen

One of the first comments she makes is that her job as a musician is all about listening. It is foundational. And it is the same for the writer and the creative person. We listen to stories, to the world around us to inspire and teach us. To teach to listen is to teach people to translate the meaning from their heads and hearts.

I see it as having two parts. The first part is listening as a creative person, listening to the world around you in order that you can create. The second part is the listening by the audience and receivers of your work. We have control over the first part, but not the second.

As a creative person a translation is reading the given text as it is, without adding your own personality to it. It is the technical aspect of reading a piece of music, a novel, a piece of art or film. It is absorbed as data, fact, neutral information.

Evelyn points out that the literal translation of the music will only take you so far. It requires an interpretation.

For a creative person to interpret we assimilate the raw data and begin to synthesise it through the lens of our values and beliefs, gender, perspectives to create. We assimilate and synthesise through listening. Listening to ourselves.

But how do we listen?

Evelyn is profoundly deaf, and has written about her deafness. She says, “I hear it thr0ugh my ears. And through my hands, feet, stomach, cheeks, every part of my body. Listening through the walls; listening far more broadly than simply the ears.”

She goes on to ask the audience, “When you clap, what do you use? Just your hands? How about your body, the floor, thighs, jewellery? Experimentation = improvisation.”

It is about learning how to listen with a different set of “ears.”

As a percussionist, Evelyn uses a range of different sticks. They produce different sound colours. It depends on the weight of the stick, the type of head (rubber, woollen, wooden) and produce different sound colours. They are the tools to allow her to interpret the music and can be likened to our own likes, dislikes, personality, temperament, culture.

As the percussionist uses drumsticks as a tool, what tools do we use to produce our art? How do we use them? To what effect?

Performing a piece on the glockenspiel, Evelyn points out the resonators beneath the instrument. Their purpose is to amplify the sound made. She comments that we are all connected to sound and become a participator in the sound. What the eye sees, sound is happening, being imagined. We are all participators of sound. When we listen, listen carefully, we become the resonators and participators.

As writers or creative people we listen to be able to say something through our creativity. To create a piece of art where the reader and participator experiences the whole of the sound, in the entirety of the journey from the breath to the striking or plucking of the instrument to make sound; in the reading of a novel, watching of a film, appreciating a piece of art.

A creative person teaches someone to listen. First they listen to the text they are reading before it is internalised and filtered. Then they can hear what we are saying through our art.