Once during our middle school years, I told my friend Jessica, “You’re so lucky.”
We were in my bedroom, a curious walk-through room with a cabinet of dull-eyed automatons eyeing us from behind glass. Jessica had sisters and lots of friends and she excelled at sports. And she played piano and sang better than anyone I knew. She even spoke Italian.
Why I called her lucky that particular day, I can’t remember. But I’ve held on to her reply.
“It’s not luck,” she said. “I work hard.”
Her vehemence surprised me. It made sense, once she said it. The hours on the field, at the tennis court, running laps, practicing the piano, studying a foreign language. She did work hard. She achieved in each of these areas because she put the hours and concentration in. And that habit of practice paid off in faster sprint times and jaw-dropping piano recitals.
For sure she was talented in these areas, and perhaps certain circumstances lined up in favorable ways, but it was putting in the work that created the opportunities for her to achieve.
That conversation with Jessica impacted the way I thought about skill building. Especially in areas where I felt I didn’t have any natural ability. At least I could practice hard. Make up for my lacks, not with luck, but with perseverance and grit. Freshman year on the high school field hockey team, our student co-captains made me a locker poster: “The body that will quit, but the guts that won’t.” I kept trying, even when my knee locked up, even when I got hit in the stomach from the other team’s bouncing drive. Even though I wasn’t as fast or coordinated as my teammates. I played varsity not because I had athletic talent, but because I consistently showed up. Drilled in my free time. Ran laps over the summer. Worked hard to earn the position.
I’ve been thinking of that conversation with Jessica lately because I feel lucky. Everything’s coming up roses—or tulips, really, since it’s April. It seems like everything I’ve planted over my four decades is poking up out of the soil and blooming. Here is the biggest pieces of news:
Lanternfish Press, a Philadelphia-based independent publishing house, acquired my debut novel for publication in spring 2022. It’s my childhood dream come true. I started writing seriously in second grade. By fifth grade, I was working on my first two novels. My classmates used to beg our teacher to let me read chapters aloud.
In addition, my publishing house, Forest Avenue, won an Oregon Literary Fellowship from Literary Arts. I won one previously, in 2014, and am so grateful for the recognition and the influx of cash after this pandemic-addled year.
A Chasing Chaos video, featuring my teenager and me talking about family life during the pandemic, will premiere at 7 p.m. PST on Wednesday, April 28. Follow the link to set a reminder, or to watch it at your convenience post-premiere. It’s free to watch but is also a fundraiser for the mental health nonprofit NAMI-Clackamas.
I could call these good things luck. I certainly feel fortunate. With any contest or judging situation, who has the power to decide impacts the outcome. But I’ve also put in the hours. I’ve worked hard to get here. And I have a fabulous agent, Laurie Fox, helping me to steer my career and acting as a big-hearted champion of my creative life.
Practice doesn’t make perfect, at least not in my worldview.
It makes for better practice.
I recently asked my author Neil Cochrane about his creative journey. He’s in a similar place, with lots of great things happening in his literary and artistic career, and I wanted to know more about how he felt, right now, about everything coming together. He replied: “If I had to resort to a metaphor, it's like--I spent all the previous years building the ladder, and now I'm finally stepping onto it with excitement and hope instead of trepidation, because I know the ladder is strong and well-built.”
Neil’s fantasy novel, I WILL GO TO THE BANK BY THE WOOD, featuring a trans protagonist and interlinked folk tales, is an innovative and entertaining masterpiece. It’s forthcoming from Forest Avenue in fall 2022. You can learn more about Neil at his website or follow him on Twitter at @ItsNeilCochrane.
Your Bright Side invitation: What (or who) makes you feel like the luckiest person in the world? A close friend, a certain flower blooming, getting a paragraph or a line of poetry just right? Close your computer, turn off your phone, and go spend time with the person, place, or thing that makes you feel good. Write a letter if you can’t see your friend in person. Grab a notebook and sit in the hammock to brainstorm about your next project. Lie down under a big tree and close your eyes so you can listen to the birds better. Think about Neil’s words about the ladder. How can you build your ladder so you feel sure it’s strong? That it will hold the weight of your ideas?
Feel free to leave a comment! I started this newsletter to create an intimate conversation space about creativity, grief, and the societal reset that the pandemic has offered creatives like us. I’d love to hear your thoughts on luck. One commenter will win the original “Lucky Duck” piece of art that accompanies this post. I’ll do a random drawing to choose the winner next Tuesday at noon PST. Check the comments for the results!
It's hard work AND luck. I think about this dichotomy a lot as a parent of disabled kids. Others with the same diagnosis can do more ... or less. When people praise me for my "hard work," I think: 'But other moms work just as hard....'
Congratulations, Laura! So happy for you. I don't know about luck. I guess I'm in the same camp as Suzy; luck rarely falls from the sky. And you've worked hard to develop your craft and hone champion the work of others. Enjoy your day!