As news is spreading about the release of my first book, I’m receiving some interesting questions from people. The kind where you feel the punch in your gut that tells you your answer means more than the words that form it. It really informs the listener—and you—about how you’re shaping your world. At a BBQ recently on the Chesapeake Bay in Maryland, a woman asked me how I defined success as a writer. I took a moment. The view that stretched before me could have been from a movie that won a cinematography Oscar. The dark, rolling water stretched for miles layered over by a blue sky dotted with fat clouds. I listened. The waves had their own internal rhythm—much like my life. I thought, this question isn’t only about me being a writer. As such, my answer came out surprisingly easily.
Success for me is when I’m happy with what I’ve done. This could mean either how a story unfurls as I write it, or the finished manuscript. Believe me, when I’m smack-dab in my bliss of writing a magical scene, I know it’s working. I’m happy with myself and what I’m producing. It’s that feeling of “Yes!” When I close my computer, I haven’t thought of it as success, but it’s a sense of accomplishment. And when I finish the first draft of a book, I’m happy. I did it! I always celebrate by opening a bottle of champagne. I toast myself and my characters and their story—and all who are going to read it. It’s happiness because I’m living my life purpose and producing what I am meant to contribute to the world. That’s my success.
Having had another career in a corporate sense, I remember a different definition of success: raises, promotions, being selected for certain high-level business trips, attending the big meetings, etc. We all have our own list of these. I always felt like I was striving for the next big thing, and it was funny how quickly the good feelings wore off when it came. Then it was back to the grindstone again.
I don’t plan to fall into that trap again. I’m not suggesting external measurements don’t give us a sense of how we’re doing, but they don’t often bring us joy. If they did, we wouldn’t see so many unhappy “successful” people.
I’m choosing a happiness I can control (not one found outside of myself), rooted in my gifts. I’m trusting in my voice, and in my vision for my writing and my new career.
So, the next time someone asks you how you define success, how are you going to answer?