Failing Grades

What do they teach children in school these days?

This past Wednesday I crossed the state line into Illinois to talk to an eighth grade class about being successful. My main point was that successful people don't give up. They try and try and try until they reach their goals.

I used several examples, mostly famous writers who were buried under rejection slips but kept submitting their work anyway. The class seemed to know who Dr. Seuss was, and a few of the students recognized the Chicken Soup for the Soul books. One girl even said she checked one out of the library but hadn't read it yet.

None of the eighth graders had heard of Gone With the Wind by Margaret Mitchell or knew who Jack London was. That didn't surprise me. With all the good literature out there and so little time to read and teach it all, I understand how some of the works we thought of as classics can get lost in the crowd.

But one of my examples left me speechless.

Only one student knew who Thomas Edison was.

Thomas Edison, who invented the phonograph and perfected the light bulb. Thomas Edison, who saw every "failure" as a success even when it took him over 3,000 tries to find a filament that burned long enough to be commercially viable. Thomas Edison, who has been called the greatest inventor who ever lived.

Where have these children--and their teachers--been?

I realize there are other schools that do a better job of connecting children with their heritage. This was a suburban "inner-city" school and probably had more than its share of problems to distract teachers and administrators from their primary job of educating students.

Still, I have to give that school and its staff a failing grade.

I have high hopes for the student who knew who Thomas Edison was. As for the others, I pray the school's failures don't become theirs.

And that they don't give up.

Light Bulb Successes

The waiting is killing me. The waiting for acceptances (or rejections) for two books I am currently circulating among publishers and agents.

Not that waiting is anything new. Or rejections, either. Both are normal parts of writing for publication.

According to Jack Canfield in Snoopy's Guide to the Writing Life:

Margaret Mitchell's Gone With the Wind and Dr. Seuss's first children's book were each rejected at least 25 times before they found a publisher. 

Louis L'Amour received 350 rejections before he made his first sale; and

Jack London had it even worse, receiving 600 rejection slips before selling his first story.

I've sold over a dozen articles and devotions and one non-fiction book, so I'm doing better than many at this stage in my writing career. Still, waiting is hard, and rejections can be crushing. So to keep things in perspective, I think of each rejection as a light bulb success.

Thomas Edison did not invent the light bulb, but he did make it practical. He tried thousands of filaments before he found one that burned long enough to be commercially viable. He could have given up at number 10, or 100, or 1000, but he didn't see those tests as failures. He saw them as successes because each "failure" ruled out another filament that didn't work and moved him that much closer to the one that would.

I want that attitude. Each rejection is a success rather than a failure. By ruling out another publisher that isn't perfect for my book, the rejection gets me one submission closer to the publisher that is.

These two quotes attributed to Thomas Edison explain why I refuse to give up.

Many of life's failures are experienced by people who did not realize how close they were to success when they gave up.

Our greatest weakness lies in giving up. The most certain way to succeed is always to try just one more time.

And this doesn't just apply to inventors and writers. It can work for you, too.

Yes, waiting is hard. But I'm continuing to write while I wait for that e-mail or telephone call offering me the contract that will make me the next J.K. Rowling. Because all my rejections are light bulb successes.