Failing Your Way to Success: 6 Reasons for Writers to Make Mistakes

I never make misteaks.

–Anonymous

To achieve anything you must be brave enough to fail.   

–Kirk Douglas

There is one simple way to avoid ever making another mistake: Do nothing. You’ll never make a mistake if you don’t do anything. But the more ambitious you are, the more mistakes you can count on making in achieving your goals. Failure is as necessary as the success it leads to is inevitable.

Here are six reasons why you should relish failure:

1. Failure is essential to your success.

The Israeli statesman Abba Eban once said that men and nations always act wisely once they’ve exhausted the alternatives. Unfortunately, people keep creating new alternatives. In writing as in life, you back into success by first doing things that don’t work. Sooner or later, you wind up with whatever’s left. The most important rule in The Elements of Style is “Omit needless words.” If you do that, the only words you have left are the ones you need.

2. Failing is the only way for you to succeed.

You will not get your book right on your first draft, but you will have something that you can keep improving until it’s ready to sell. It’s been said that “You don’t have to be good at the start, but you do have to start to be good.” The only thing you can’t fix is a blank page. First, you have to get something written, then revise it until you get it right. First comes the poetry, then comes the carpentry. If you learn from your mistakes, getting your work right is inevitable. It’s not a question of if, only a question of when.

3. The faster you fail, the faster you’ll succeed.

The actor Tallulah Bankhead once said: “If I had to live my life again, I’d make the same mistakes—only sooner.” The faster you fail, the sooner you’ll make all the mistakes you need to make to get your work right, so the faster you’ll succeed. So fail as often as you must, because the faster you fail and learn from your mistakes, the sooner you’ll achieve your literary and publishing goals.

4. You learn more from failure than success.

Success teaches you how to write well enough to sell. But it can also takes the edge off your need to learn, be creative and grow. It can tempt you to write more of the same, only different. Failure prods you to find a more effective way of expressing your ideas. You may remember the famous Thomas Edison quote about inventing the light bulb. “I have not failed. I’ve just found 10,000 ways that won’t work.” You won’t have to write your  book that many times.

5. Writing is a forgiving art.

If a jazz musician screws up when taking a solo, there’s no help for it. But you can make as many mistakes in your writing as you need to before submitting it. Your critique group and early readers will help you know when you’ve written your last draft, and only the draft you submit counts. Because the process takes as long as it takes, the challenge is to have enough patience to to make the execution of your idea   as strong as the idea itself.

6. Making mistakes helps prevents them.

The faster you learn, the more adept you’ll become in avoiding mistakes in later drafts. Spotting them  in advance will enable you to save time. You’ll starting catching them before your fingertips hit the keys. You’ll increase your ability to predict the effectiveness of words and how they flow into each other; sentence structure; and story, setting, and character development.

But take heart. As you grow creatively and try new forms of writing, you’ll find new ways to make mistakes. After all, what could be more boring than perfection?

Writers Do it One Word at a Time

No good book is ever too long. No bad book is ever too short.

            –Anonymous

Hemingway rewrote the last page of For Whom the Bell Tolls 39 times. When someone asked him what the problem was, he replied: “Getting the words right.”

The book that tells how to do this most concisely and that most affects my writing is The Elements of Style by William Strunk and E.B. White, Jr.  The rule on composition that guides my writing is number six: “Omit needless words.”  This is the ultimate rule of writing, because if you eliminate needless words, the only words you have left are those you do need.

As powerful as it is brief, this rule is a testament to the power of less. Your time-starved readers, online and off,  make being relentlessly rigorous about your prose more imperative than ever. It means that:

  • Form is as important as content.
  • Every word you write must justify your readers’ most precious asset: their time.

This timeless, universal rule challenges you to make your writing impeccable. It doesn’t mean that what you write has to be short, only that you must serve your readers well or you’ll lose them faster than ever.

You also have to make your work a pleasure to read by ornamenting it with grace notes—warmth, passion, life, humor, inspiration, and stories that help you achieve your literary goals. The more people you want to reach, the simpler and more enjoyable your prose must be.

Every word you write must pull its own weight both in communicating your message and strengthening its impact.   It’s a disservice to your idea and your readers to present  your work before it is ready.

Agents and editors read for a living. They can tell from the first sentence whether someone can write. The first weak word or idea will make their editorial antennae quiver. If it’s not too serious, they’ll keep reading but with an uneasy, usually justified, dread that enough transgressions will follow to justify a rejection.

Michelangelo believed that his statues were waiting for him inside blocks of marble waiting for him to chip away at until he liberated them. The idea for your book is a block of marble inside of which the best embodiment of your idea is waiting for you to bring it to life. So keep chipping away at your idea until it becomes the reality you want it to be. Only your last draft counts.

Comments and questions welcome.