Failure is Relative. Fail again.

Failure is a word most writers get to know intimately. If you write, it is guaranteed you will fail.  And fail again. And fail again. This month’s mantra, failure is relative, enables me to view failure in my writing life as an opening rather than as an ending. As a writer, failure will  likely be experienced acutely and daily during the writing process. There are days when the work feels as arduous as trying to push a boulder up a steep hill. Then there are days when the writing seems to be going semi-OK, but as you read through the sentences written, you can’t help but wonder if you were having an out of body experience during the writing since not one bit of makes any sense. Of course the challenge once a book is completed, as you face the task at hand of editing, could be akin to you pushing a boulder up a steep hill while wearing roller skates on your feet. Perhaps it is a result of the daily, if not, hourly failure one experiences as a writer that this mantra becomes not just a mantra, but a lifeline in order to keep you from giving up writing altogether.

 It is always enlightening and encouraging to read the original manuscript of a canonical book. There was the earth-shattering release of Raymond Carver’s original manuscript for his short story collection, “What We Talk About When We Talk About Love”, the book that secured Carver’s place in the modern canon, but also his place as the writer to be studied assiduously n many MFA programs. What is so amazing about this original manuscript is to see how much the collection we know so well was shaped by the editor, Gordon Lish. And, as we have now learned, how this manuscript tortured Raymond Carver enough to get him to fight hard to have his original manuscript published over the much edited version. I’m certain Raymond Carver was, not only ambivalent about the success of the collection, but likely felt some sense of failure even in the face of the critical and commercial success of the collection. One can only wonder whether his ambivalence waned over the years as this collection was lauded year after year.

 Another book to read to see a writer’s process is “Triimalchio: An Early Version of The Great Gatsby”, which is the original manuscript of F. Scott Fitzerald’s “The Great Gatsby”. While much of the classic novel will feel familiar, it’s hard to not notice the differences. It is as if one is listening to a familiar melody in a different key and tempo.

 This original manuscript is worthy of a read and study to compare to the original. The existence of this manuscript tells us that Fitzgerald felt something lacking or, perhaps, seen as a failure in this first draft, enough to have reworked the novel into the version most of us have read and studied. This is when the idea of failure being relative is driven home, especially when we read “Trimalchio” today.

 As a writer, I’ve learned to appreciate the slow progress and process of writing, whether I’m writing a blog or writing a novel. This appreciation enables me to push against the sense of failure as I remind myself failure is relative.