The Unfinished Book is the Only Failed Book

 

Completion is a big deal. It’s why we have graduation ceremonies for high schoolers and college grads and kindergarteners. In celebrating those successes, we teach others the importance of finishing what we start by honoring what we accomplish. It teaches us to win. But some of us get sidetracked. 

The military, oilfield work, teaching—I’ve been sidetracked half-a-dozen times but I’ll spare you my ill-advised attempt at traditional Irish dance. The biggest sidetrack involved writing. I have wasted years on other peoples’ ideas. Part of that was the logical progression of a writer. We imitate others until we find our own voice. Misses become pathways to hits. Where it gets dicey is when we just stop. I tried spies, police, private eyes, and even a graphic novel about an immortal gunslinger but finished nothing. And then I stopped writing altogether. 

“Talent is a wonderful thing but it won’t carry a quitter.” Stephen King

Cognitive behavioral therapist and psychiatrist, Doctor David Burns wrote that neither success nor failure is a single exercise. Both success and failure are the result of actions, each built upon the last. Success may not build success but failure can only build failure—until we learn failure's lesson. 

I learned this first-hand, reading Doctor Burns seminal work, The Feeling Good Handbook, in therapy. Yes, I have issues. An unintended benefit of tackling my issues was getting a handle on decades of perceived failure. Through therapy and with Doctor Burns’ book as guidance, I began to see a series of setbacks in place of failure. I began to write a different story. 

“The road to hell is paved with works in progress.” Phillip Roth

When I met Walter Mosley, at a reading, his statement, “whatever you read, whatever you write, it’s supposed to be fun,” changed everything. It reminded me of the stories I loved most, why I read them and, more importantly, why I should write them. With new skills, I constructed a discipline and then began to write in earnest. I completed my first story in six months and spent the intervening years learning how to re-write and hone that story into a book. I could only do that because I completed the draft.

Is completion success? Yes. Is it publication? Nope. When my dream agent read my manuscript, she stated that the book I wrote wasn’t crime at all but young-adult. She suggested another agent as well as some edits to make the story more palatable for the YA market. Instead, I used her notes to excise the YA elements from my story. I’m entirely too fond of profanity, sexual fumbling, and shooting fothermuckers in the face.  

Other agents said they couldn’t sell a car-thief-turned heister set in 1985 Houston, to a 20-something NYC publishing editor. One agent signed me for about 15 minutes—and then stopped responding to emails and stopped returning calls. This game isn’t for quitters. It is built for steppers.

Doctor Burns says each step is a goal. If you want to achieve more, set your alarm 5 minutes earlier each day and in three months, (allowing for setbacks) you’re getting up an hour early every day. Each goal met is an accomplishment. With that extra hour, you can exercise, read, do school work, or write a book. Each accomplishment is a building block to your dreams: fitness, personal enrichment, professional advancement, life-long dream. 

“People who are extremely successful know that motivation doesn’t come first—productive action does... Once you begin to accomplish something, it will often spur you on to do even more.” Doctor David Burns

So write that scene you have in your head. It doesn’t have to be an opening, a closing, or a turning point. It really doesn’t require any context. My first story started with the ending—my car thief shooting it out with a dirty cop. 

Then, at the same time tomorrow, work on the details of that scene. Hammer out that scene. Stretch it, (the way an armorer stretches a bar of steel to make a sword) from paragraph to page, page to chapter. Then write another scene. You’ve finished the draft when you have a beginning, an ending, and a middle to support both. 

It’s called “rough” for a reason. Don’t worry with plot-holes, inconsistencies, or saggy middles, (I’m told they come with maturity). Those issues are all for the edit. Sure “edit” sounds fancy but it just means that you hammer, hone, and polish—and occasionally slag it all down and start over. Still, it all begins with finishing that rough draft.

Since reading The Feeling Good Handbook, I’ve gotten a handle on (most) of my issues. I’m no longer (as easily) ruled by toxic emotions. I’ve learned to control my environment and redirect negative thoughts away from the dark places that influence emotions. Additionally, I’ve completed a course of study toward a second degree and changed careers. 

More importantly, I’ve developed skills to apply to a renewed love for my book. I know my voice has merit and I will not stop until my work is in print. Whether it is with a publishing house or my own industry remains to be seen. What is no longer in question is my determination. I’m simply not wired to be a quitter. Neither are you.

The photo above, Allyson Felix Berlin 2009 is used under terms of GNU Documentation License, details, here.