Measures of Success
By Barbara O'Neal | February 26, 2014 |
At a very large workshop once, I sat on a panel with with a group of successful women’s fiction writers. All of us had been writing for a decade or more. A woman in
the audience asked a question about the New York Times bestseller lists. I can’t actually remember the specifics of the question, but I remember this part of the exchange:
“Well,” I said, “you don’t have to make the New York Times to have a successful career.”
The woman shook her head like a bewildered dog. “What? What do you mean by that?”
“Exactly what I said. You can have a long and successful career as a commercial fiction writer without ever coming in within sniffing distance of the lists. Any of them.” [pullquote]You can have a long and successful career as a commercial fiction writer without ever coming in within sniffing distance of the lists. Any of them.” [/pullquote]
The other panelists confirmed this; in fact only one of us was actually in that hallowed group. But the woman didn’t understand it. She asked the question several ways, looking for another answer. She was very, very invested in that single, admittedly powerful marker of success and couldn’t imagine any other trajectory for herself.
In publishing, The New York Times bestseller list is the holy grail. But I have never made it. Not with The Lost Recipe for Happiness, which went back to print eight times and was beautifully published around the world (I will forever love my Australian cover of that book as much as any cover I’ve ever had). Not with How to Bake A Perfect Life, which was a Target Book Club pick and lots of subsidiary deals. Not with any one of my four RITA award-winning women’s fiction.
I have supported myself and sometimes a family with my novels for more than two decades. The only time I took on another job was when I faced the double financial whammy of getting divorced during the same two years when my eldest son was starting college, and neither of those side jobs lasted longer than six months. I’ve published 11 works of women’s fiction, more than 25 romances of various sorts, and a sprinkling of novellas, short stories and articles.
Not so bad, really. A life as a writer, publishing widely around the world, winning awards and finding my readers.
Don’t get me wrong—publishers and agents and writers (even me!) love that big, splashy, highly toutable proof of success. It’s lovely to get there, but a lot has to be in place make it happen. The NYT mainly measures velocity. So a book that has had a tremendous amount of pre-publication push and visibility, then a very clean lay-down (when the books hit the stores, all stores, all at once, as close to the same hour as possible) will have a much better chance to make the lists. For a very long time, the list favored indie bookstores, who tend to stock fiction of a certain type, which meant literary or literary-leaning novels had a better shot. The addition of trade paperback lists, mass market paperback lists, and ebook lists have served to help preserve that literary-leaning hardcover list, but made the rest of the lists much more democratic.
Once in awhile, a book catches fire and word of mouth increases the velocity of sales over a long period of time. Kristin Hannah’s Firefly Lane was a bestseller of that nature. She’d written books that were just as compelling, but the subject matter of Firefly caught the gestalt of the moment, and it just sold and sold and sold and sold (I seem to remember it was on the trade paperback list for eight or nine months). Water For Elephants was another word of mouth bestseller, and The Art of Racing in the Rain. All are books that are so gorgeously, perfectly commercial and such amazing, compelling stories that readers pushed them into other readers hands.
That’s an organic form of bestselling that is immensely satisfying for everyone involved. But it also requires publishing support to keep the book on the shelves when it’s showing signs of velocity, to keep throwing a little co-op money at it, to keep supporting it, with a little push. It would be easier to marry George Clooney than to get that co-op money for a book that is three or four months old, but sometimes it happens.
One other way to make the list is to write a successful series. The first books capture readers and then draw them into the world, and as the series grows, so does the readership, so by book five or eight (a lot of writers say eight is the magic number), you have the following to make that book a mega bestseller: Game of Thrones for example, or Bella Andre’s Sullivan series.
But what if you never make the lists? How do you define success for yourself? What would “success” look like if we took that one measure off the table?
Here’s my definition: I have written more than 40 novels. Some have been enormously successful, winning awards and acclaim; others have languished for any number of reasons (bad timing, bad covers, lost editor, publishing house eaten by another, etc etc etc). Some books I considered on the lower end of my quality line have become beloved by readers, and some I considered to be some of my very best work have been ignored. I’ve gathered a group of readers who are earnestly passionate about what I do, a fact I consider one of the greatest gift of this writing life.
I make enough now (it took time) to finance my penchant for travel abroad, my only weakness in the luxury realm. Before that, I made more than my siblings at very earnest jobs, teacher, nurse, electrician. I consider that successful.
But mainly, I consider myself a success because I have had the vast good fortune to have made my way as a writer for my entire adult life. I’m doing exactly what I want to do, every single day of my life. I write books I love and offer them to my readers and—good heavens!—I am paid well for it.
That’s a pretty hefty measure of success. Would I love the NYT marker beside my name? You bet. I’d dance a jig and call everyone I know and celebrate with some crazy expensive meal somewhere. Bring it on! But I don’t feel like my career is faltering without it.
What would be markers of success for you? Enough money to pay a few bills? A good review in a particular publication? What kinds of things mark “having made it” for you?
Barbara O’Neal is the author of more than a dozen award-winning, bestselling novels, including the runaway bestseller, When We Believed in Mermaids, which has been published in more than 20 countries and spent many months on the Amazon Charts, as well as the Wall Street Journal, USA Today, and Washington Post bestseller lists. Barbara lives on the beach in rugged Oregon with her husband, a British endurance athlete who vows he’ll never lose his accent and their zoo of cats and dogs. You can find more information on her newsletter and where to find her on social media at barbaraoneal.com.
I would think I made it big if someone made a music video about me like the one Rachel Bloom made for Ray Bradbury.
A music video would totally work for me.
I know I’ve made it when I’m sitting on a panel with a group of successful writers, and Barbara O’Neal is seated to my right, not my left, but my right. It has to be my right. Definitely.
Or
When I can supplement my income as a novelist (about $20,000 every two-three years)
I would be honored to sit on your left or right, Brian. :)
“I’m doing exactly what I want to do, every single day of my life.” This! Loved your post.
Of course, I have dreamed of the Newbery, the holy grail of children’s writing, but my entire life I have pretty much had the good luck to do what I wanted to do. Some dreams, like becoming a physician, didn’t work out, due to my own fears, but now I’m older and don’t let fear stop me from plunging into what I believe will bring great joy. My primary vocation is to be a wife and mother, and it has brought me the greatest joy. And somehow I fell into this writing life and I love it. But I have so much growing up to do.
It’s a big big thing to do what you want to do every day. I am reminded of this over and over, and I might complain or feel aggravated about some aspect of this career, and then I realize how glad I am that this is my reality.
Thanks, Barbara. Very inspiring words you’ve shared.
The day I can make enough money on writing to turn writing into my full-time day job would be my benchmark of success. I make too many mistakes at my day job (some of them quite dangerous!) because I’m busy plotting or reworking a dialogue on my head. To be able to give my writing the time it deserves would be a dream come true. Until then, I continue to dance around the hazards of being an artist.
Oh, do be careful, dreamy one! I hope that day comes sooner rather than later.
Hey, Barbara, you’ve baked yourself a perfect life! Thanks for sharing your views on success, I think you’ve got a handle on it and a highly usable definition for most of us, poor scribblers!
Sure, the Pulitzer Prize and NYT fame would be fantastic. But you’re so right: the only real measure of success is in the happiness to be able to do what one wants to do, as you say, “every day of one’s life”. I’m afraid that if this is the measure of success, I haven’t been quite as successful (or happy) as you in my lifetime because I’ve spent many, many years working, kept away from writing because of a lack of time to write – though I did write the week-end and managed to publish two books while I was still at work (under a pseudonym so as not to upset my boss and fellow workers). But now that I’m retired and free to write full time, it’s bliss! So now, I consider myself just as lucky as you: I do exactly what I’ve always wanted to do, write!
The great thing is that you continued to write even though you couldn’t do it all the time, Claude…and now here you are, free.
Barbara,
I’ve entertained the fantasy that if/when I find success, it will allow me to pay off those lingering student loans. For now, I’m trying to measure success on how I balance my writing life and my work life – that real success is about telling a story to the best of my ability. It will take a while, but little steps count.
Student loans are a great marker, Jillian. Clear and precise. It’s also very wise to create goals for the here and now, in which you are able to measure progress toward that eventual benchmark.
What a great reminder that WE are in charge of the benchmarks we use to evaluate our own accomplishments.
And your observation that the NYT “mainly measures velocity” is a great reality-check. There are countless authors who have briefly “made the list” whose overall careers have been nowhere as long or fruitful as yours. I’m sure I’m not alone in thinking that I’d much rather have a long and successful career that allowed me to spend my days doing what I love.
Thank you, both for this refreshing perspective, and for the wonderful books you write. They may be “women’s fiction,” but this manly man digs them, too!
You are manly enough to love great books whatever they may be called. Honored mine are among them, Keith, because I love yours, too.
The road is long, they say….
Being where I am right now, I’ve learned to find my sense of success in creating a project (fiction, poetry, photopoems) that gives me the same satisfaction of when I paint, a deep enriching breath that says I touched something in my core.
Would I like more? Sure, why not? :-)
And your own measure sounds wonderful –
“…mainly, I consider myself a success because I have had the vast good fortune to have made my way as a writer for my entire adult life. I’m doing exactly what I want to do, every single day of my life. I write books I love and offer them to my readers and—good heavens!—I am paid well for it.”
Thanks so much Barbara :-)
How poetic this post is, Felipe! I felt your artistry.
I’m so glad you wrote this post, Barbara. It certainly gives us an inside view of success in a sensible way. I like when you say passionate readers are the real gift. That strikes me as so true. Success for me is measured in readers liking my stories and in the industry professionals giving me a nod. Do I need masses of readers around the world to love my stories and demand more? Not at all; I’m content with a moderate group. Do I need to earn a living at writing fiction? That would be sweet but I have other skills that provide me with real stability for that. I love being an editor; I love being a writer. You are right in that success is doing what you love and having a return that supports and inspires you.
An excellent measure, Paula. And you sound balanced about all of it, too, writing and editing, readers and professionals….
Thanks SO much for this post, Barbara. It’s ever so enlightening for those of us who have not experienced any sales to scream about. Along with Keith, I’d much rather have a long and successful career with a lot of faithful followers than ever reach the NYT list.
Patti
or…well, both readers and lists would be fine, too, of course. ;) But a long career has always been my goal. So far so good.
Glad you feel that way, too.
I count myself successful any time I can get someone to pay for something I have written. If I had a nickel for every pro bono news release or book review of someone else’s book I’ve sent into the world, I would be thrilled. My as yet unreached dream is to complete at least one of those 5 or 6 unfinished novels reposing on my flash drive.
I’m glad you wrote this piece, Barbara. It’s positive and true, and exactly the mindset all of us need to adopt. Also want to say something about velocity, which you mentioned a few times here. I agree that a publisher’s response to velocity is important, but I also think an author’s response is important. If you see your book doing well in some way, highlight it how you can with your supporters. Your excitement can trickle down, and before you know it others may be helping you spread your good news. Caution: Don’t do it too often.
True, an author can certainly promote her own book, too. I never find any of my promotions to be as helpful as one big push from a publisher. They just have a much bigger budget and a lot more knowledge than I do, frankly. :)
I would say there are degrees of success. Getting my first book published was a success. The first book I sold was a success. The ultimate success, of course, is to support myself as a writer.
A NYT review is definitely a success, but I remind myself that any review, no matter how influential the reviewer, is only the opinion of one person.
Degrees, yes. And baking bread.
An Inspirational and Grounded post to save and reference. Thank you, thank you, thank you. Write on, Barbara, Write on!
How do I, or will I, define success? It’s something that I’ve been thinking about a lot. I’ve been feeling like I’m nearing a crossroads, and I’m not sure where the various roads lead. Which makes choosing a path all the tougher.
It’s never been the NYT list (I sort of made my peace with that when I chose epic historical fantasy). Honestly, for me it’s never been about money or fame. So what do I really want? In the past I’ve said that I’m hoping to connect with readers. But if that’s it, I should be good, even without a publishing deal. I’ve been fortunate enough to have had readers I greatly respect read my work, and several have been kind enough to share with me that it resonated for them. No few have asked to read on (the ultimate compliment for a series writer).
My gut tells me that the crossroads ahead will have something to do with story versus immediacy. No story is perfect, and I realize mine never will be. But it’s come far. Can it be taken to another level still? No question. Could I simply publish it now? Without a doubt. Is it truly worthy of my long effort yet? Therein lies my quandary.
Having gotten into this gig later in life, I think my overarching goal has something to do with mortality. I have no children. What will be my legacy? I look up at the shelves in my office. I have some very special books there—books that have shaped the person I’ve become. In most cases I have no idea whether these books were originally bestsellers or what awards they might have garnered. I only know, whether the author is alive or has passed, that they have made my special shelf. I guess I’d like a shot at making that shelf for a few others, even once I’m gone. And before I can reach even a few readers’ special shelf, I have to find my way into their hands. I realize it’s a longshot, but I feel like it’s a worthy aspiration.
Thanks for a thought-provoking post, Barbara! Congrats on your deserved success. You’re an inspiration.
It’s true every book can be made better….to a point. There comes a time when we write the joy and juice out of it. You’ll know when the time is right to let your book go. Just don’t let the fear of not being good enough stop you from letting it sail away.
Thanks for the insight into mortality. That’s definitely a part of it for a lot of us. It is for me, to join in other people’s lives and be a part of them, even when I don’t know that I have been.
If money was the marker, I’d stick with engineering and get a second job delivering pizza. The hourly wage is better. What I envision is getting published and establishing a decent following. Then, when I retire (I’m 47 now), I’d like use writing to a) keep me from driving my wife insane and b) make enough to subsidize my lavish lifestyle of fly-fishing and diner-hopping. That sounds like paradise to me.
I adored this, Barbara. You sound comfortable in your own skin – writerly skin. It’s refreshing and an inspiration to us all.
Denise Willson
Author of A Keeper’s Truth and GOT
Terrific stuff here, Barbara, a reflection of living on your own terms, of doing what you have to do so you’ll be able to do what you want to do.
I admire that, and hope to achieve something close to what you have in everything I try.
But with regard to my writing – at this point, paced one step at a time – I’ll feel I’ve accomplished something when I complete my project knowing that The End really means THE END, that’s it’s as good as I can make it; and then, if that work connects with someone who encourages me to do it again, I’ll see my efforts as successful.
I’m shooting for the day I can say, as you did: “I’m doing exactly what I want to do, every single day of my life.”
Great post as always, Barbara. Making the lists would be awesome but when I publish I want to give readers the best stories I have in me. And make enough to pay for my writing habit. I know this business isn’t about the money. It’s always about the story.
I adore your books and snatch them up the minute they release. : ) That said, I had no clue you had never made the lists. In my mind you are a NYT bestselling author a gazillion times over.
“What kinds of things mark “having made it” for you?” you ask.
I like the Christopher Morley quote: “There is only one success – to be able to spend your life in your own way.” I am happy to be doing something I’ve always wanted to do, which is writing the kind of novels I like to read, and having readers from thousands of miles or oceans away tell me that they’re impatiently waiting for the next book in my series.
As my fan base has grown, so has my income, but I’m still a couple of digits away from being able to claim what I consider financial success with my writing. However, the trend is upwards and that’s all I can ask.
You pretty much hit the nail on the head with this one, Barbara. Great post!
I am just starting out in this writing life. I decided to actually get back into writing after my earlier retirement a couple of years ago. I’ve been doing a lot of reading and research for my first book. I have never had the illusion that I was going to be rich, or make the NYT bestseller list. Of course, if that happened it would be nice, but that isn’t my goal. My measure of success would be to not only be able to support myself comfortably, but for my words to be exciting to my readers and for the readers to be waiting eagerly for my next book. Reader satisfaction is my most important goal. I feel if they are willing to not only part with their hard earned money, but to also use their valuable time reading my words, they deserve the very best that I can give. My success would be giving that to them.
Barbara, I enjoyed reading this post—and I read many. What do I consider a marker of literary success? There are the external markers and benchmarks, such as finances, awards, number of books published, number of books sold, number of languages translated, etc.
That all certainly works.
However, for me true success as an author is opening a reader’s mind. Touching their life in some way. Changing a life or the world through your work. It took me forever to start publishing work I wrote ten years ago, so you might say I’m still a fresh face here. I have yet to rack up millions in sales and streams of press coverage. Yet I felt I’d reached the peak when one of my readers, a seasoned and highly successful Silicon Valley executive who read a short story of mine (“Confession”) told me, “You’ve opened up my mind.”
That to me is the pinnacle of success I want to make an entire mountain range with.
I for one would call a career like yours wildly successful!
Thank you for your perspective Barbara, it brings success that much closer.
Loved How to Bake a Perfect Life. Loved your post! Thanks for the encouragement.
I’m stunned that you didn’t make the NYT list, Barbara. Only goes to show that what you choose to measure is more important than absolute numbers. I’d consider you a success by any standard.
Success for me? Right now, feeling that I’ve done the best by the piece I’m writing. If I can get to that point, even if it’s reception is poor, I’ll count that a win.
No discussion to add. Just wanted to say thank you for writing a post that filled me up inside, all glowy and warm and hopeful. :)
Barbara very interesting, well-written post. I think it actuallt ties to an exchange you and another commenter had above…sometimes the unrealistic standards we set(can’t be successful without making NYT), along with the attendant fear we shall never reach them, paralyzes us into inaction….just as(your comment thread) our fear or belief that our work can never be polished quite enough, can prevent us from completing and submitting it. I’ve been ensnared before by this latter dynamic especially….I see so many books out there about which I think: I can do better than that…but hey, I want to write like the classic authors, and no matter how much I write and revise, I just can’t can’t get there…Of course this is folly: I just hone my craft best I can but must also pay homage to each author who has been published bc they not only had SOMETHING worthy of publication, but found teh courage of their conditions to at some point say ok, that’s a wrap, and submit the bloody thing(hopefully not really).
Anyway, this was a really useful post and subsequent thread, so thnaks to you and the many prescient commenters.
Best wishes.
Thanks for the great Article. I enjoyed reading :)
Personally I feel that I’ve been successful simply if I manage to
write at least one hour every day. I must admit that I am not a
full-time writer. But I believe this method could be used as a sign
of success for just about everybody. Only that full-time authors
might want to increase the amount of time ;) I ignore whether or
not my writing is good, word-count or whatever other success factor
is. Everything else will come as long as you invest the time,
effort and do it systematically. Cheers, Tim
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A friend of mine and I once joked that the yardstick for writing success keeps shifting. First it’s: “If I publish a book, I’ll have success”, then when you publish your first book, it’s “If I publish two or more books, I’ll have success”, then if you’ve achieved that, it becomes “If my book wins an award, I’ll have success, followed by “if I make enough money off my books to quit my day job, I’ll have success”… the list goes on. I’m just happy to be writing and to have ideas worth writing about, and as long as I keep being published once in awhile, that’s my measure of success.
I love your books. And thank you so much for this post. I’ve measured my success by many things in the past. And just knowing I’ve touched a few people, every day or so, is good enough for me. Would I like to make the some best seller list? You bet. But not making one doesn’t mean I’m a failure by any means.
Thank you for this post! As an emerging writer in a vastly changed publishing world than the one I fantasized about, this is exactly the kind of perspective I need to hear. My personal definition of success right now is this- that I am constantly in motion toward my goal of getting my novel finished, represented and published.
I think this is great, Barbara! Success to everyone is different, and it sure sounds like you’ve been very successful at a career you love!
I know a few NYT best-seller authors who are now struglling to get their latest novel published. NYT list doesn’t always mean a continuous life on easy-street for authors.
I believe success is doing what you love, doing it well, and being happy with your work. It sounds like you’ve been following that path for years! :)
[…] Barbara O’Neal redefines success in
this great post. […]