I was thinking last night about what it must be like to become very successful at something you really love. Something that has meaning for you.
I’ve learned this much about success – it only comes after you’ve worked at it. We read about people becoming an “overnight sensation” and like to think that success is only for the lucky few touched by Fortune. Talk to people who have made it in their chosen field and a very different story is unveiled: stories of work, planning and sacrifice. Sacrifice means giving up your other options.
I think that last point is important. My husband told me a long time ago that you “can’t fight a war on several fronts”. He thought that I should decide what I loved to do and focus on it. He was right. Like many creative people it is the process that I find stimulating. I enjoy most of the arts: acting, dancing, music, art and writing. Choosing just one to concentrate on was difficult.
I have been much happier and more productive since I focused on writing. Which brings me to my original thought. What does happen when one finally becomes successful?
When someone we have worked with, had dinner with, shared our highs and lows with gets a break it can be very confronting.
I remember years ago getting my first rejection slip for a short story competition I had entered (I was to receive a rejection slip for every competition I entered that year). This one really hurt though, because it was for a fantasy story I had written. And it wasn’t good enough!
At the same time, a good friend got accepted into a mentorship to develop a screenplay. I remember her calling me with the exciting news. I remember that at the time I was at home with my newborn son, who was on four-hourly feeds, and I was not getting much sleep. I felt so trapped in my little domestic world. I remember that stab of envy and how hard it was to swallow it, and be bright and enthusiastic for her.
How miserable I was and boy, did I have a lot of excuses for not writing!
Then one day I began to stay up late at night, after work was done and the children put to bed, to write. I attended courses and submitted writing to my peers for comment. I began to be brave. Publication will be the icing on the cake but getting the words on page matters most to me. I was surprised and gratified by that.
So what matters to you? Are you doing it?