Failing forward as a writer

When I started working as a system-engineer, I quite didn’t get that failure is a part of the process. I lived each mistake as a personal flaw, to the very obvious consequences. Mini screw-ups would annoy me and chip my self-esteem, while the occasional, once every two-years major screw-up led to anxiety spikes.

I learned the following syllogism:

1. Humans aren’t perfect. Any system should account for human error.
2. Systems aren’t perfect as well, because they are designed by humans.
3. Failures are inevitable.

In most modern engineering teams, the focus is not on avoiding failures. The focus is in incorporating failure in the process.

Failing fast means to be able to detect failure as soon as it happens and being able to remediate. Failing forward means incorporating failure as a stepping stone to success.

In other words, failure is a lesson.

As eloquently told by Master Yoda in a galaxy Far Far Away:

The greatest teacher, failure is.

Why is it important?

As soon as I adopted failing as a part of any endeavor, I de-fanged my anxiety. As soon as I understood this idea, it started trickling into my writing as well.

Suddenly I didn’t have to be perfect anymore. When I sat to write, the nagging voice that kept whispering “this is not good enough” was less loud.

This is not to say that you shouldn’t try to improve your craft or that you can avoid revising your own work. Aiming for perfection, or rather for a high standard of writing, is still commendable. But it shouldn’t guide your action.

If you keep perfection as the only acceptable result, you can only fail.

If perfection is your mind frame, failing is unacceptable. If failure is unacceptable, you’ll crutch yourself to an impossible standard and work more slowly as a result. Furthermore, in the likely event that you won’t achieve your goal, it will feel devastating.

On the other hand - if you accept that failure might be an outcome you’re less scared and less bound to the weight of perfection.

Failing forward in writing

If you’re writing your book, your focus should be on completion, not on perfection.

Completing a book will open up new opportunities for learning. You won’t learn how to write the dreaded middle without finishing the first half, and you won’t learn how to revise your work without first having a full first draft. Each part unlocks a world of new possibilities.

Consider that you might have to scrap your work and start over. Any piece you’re working on may never be published. This doesn’t make it a waste of time.

You don't need to be defensive. Criticism - provided it’s given in good faith - is your best friend. Seek advice. Seek your peers. In time, you’ll learn to understand which advice to follow and which to disregard - but start by listening to everyone.

In fact, you should be hungry for feedback.

Chapters, short stories and even books will fall flat. Editing and revising are there for a reason. Learn from your shortcomings to avoid them in the future.

The area where you fail more is also where you can learn the most.

If your prose is already good, it’s hard to make it excellent; while if your characters are lacking, you can probably pick up tricks of the trade to make them more full-fledged.

Be reasonably skeptical of longer works and longer commitments. Hell, trilogies are everywhere nowadays, but it doesn’t mean you should start writing one. Especially if you never finished a single book before.

If you’re submitting your work, expect and shrug off rejections. You only need to get accepted once. Let your skin thicken on that.

Nothing trips up more writers than the unreasonable standard of “acing it” the first time.

Addendum: prerequisites to fail

Reading this will not free you of your fear of failure. This is not a self-help book with a magic recipe. I dislike failure as well - it’s human nature. We are failure-avoidant animals and there are good reasons for that.

However, assuming that:

• I can fail safely (my life, livelihood, and health are not dependent on it)
• I can get reliable feedback on why you failed, either from myself or, even better, from others

I strive to challenge myself and fail in new ways.

This is also why I pursued self publishing for some of my projects. This is why I founded a litmag, and in part, why I am writing here.

It’s normal to look back and cringe at our past mistake. But nothing beats being able to say that now, you know better.