There’s a line from Kismet, a largely forgotten musical, that has stuck with me since I first heard it back in the 60s: “Fate is a thing without a head.” It’s a more poetical way of saying luck is luck. It can be good or bad.
I feel like a lucky person. To feel that way, you have to have had things frequently cut your way, for no reason other than they just did. It also helps to have some unlucky moments, which provides perspective.
In the business world, you often
hear “Luck is the intersection of preparation and opportunity.” I don’t like this cliché very much, because
it isn’t very poetic, but it’s essentially true. I’ve known lots of people who refused to have
good luck thrust upon them, then go on to feel put upon by life. I’ve known others who seem to draw bad luck like
Ben Franklin’s key drew lightning. But
those who can recognize good fortune when it appears, in time to exploit it,
are the luckiest of all.
I also don’t like how the word privilege
is used to scorn people, especially white/middle-class/suburbanite people like
me. It suggests that whatever achievement
one may have had, it was all just a gift of social standing. If that’s the case, I wish it hadn’t come
with so much stress, grief, sleepless nights and utter exhaustion. I prefer to say I had some luck along the
way, including in my choice of parents, brother and personal associations.
And DNA. Somewhere in those long helical strings
resides the compulsion to write. It
started when I discovered words at about four and has continued unabated into
old age. I was a lousy student. In retrospect, I probably had a raging case
of ADHA. I couldn’t sit still or listen
to anyone talking at me for more than a few minutes. What I could do was write, so my academic
career was entirely the result of writing my way out of trouble.
I’ve known writers who are much
luckier than me. On the list are
bestsellers, who don’t appear to be very good writers. Sometimes quite awful. They might have gotten started because their
aunt ran acquisitions for Random House, but they kept succeeding because
there’s a market for what they write. I
don’t begrudge them anything, even if the scales are balanced by a lot of
incredibly gifted authors who barely claw their way on to the midlist.
It has a lot to do with luck and
everyone has their allotment, both good and bad.
I could have been born with a gift
for hitting baseballs. This would have
made for a much better Little League career, and perhaps a fruitful run with
the Boston Red Sox. But it’s not
something with broader applicability. I
could be playing for the Senior Softball League, but that relies on good
weather and available playing fields. And
dosing on Advil.
I could have asked for more musical talent. Though I’ve been engagingly involved in performing for most of my life, I always feel that the people on stage with me are a lot better at it than I am. As with luck, good looks or a penchant for picking the right racehorse, musical talent is not evenly distributed across the population. And wanting it to be so is a waste of emotional energy. Just ask Salieri.
When it comes to the talent lottery, I’m happy with writing. It’s a lot more versatile than almost anything else. Aside from the novels, TV commercials, corporate brochures, short stories, billboards, feature articles and speeches for the company’s CEO that can sustain ones lifestyle, it helps with angry letters to your congress person, grandchildrens’ birthday cards, anonymous tips to the police hotline and coherent sticky notes. You can do it your whole life - as long as your brain stays intact - and reap the rewards at every stage.
Can’t get any luckier than
that.
Great post, Chris. I look back on a wildly improbable life and consider myself blessed, fortunate, lucky. (And that includes a lot of bad things that happened.) I mean, here I am, still writing after all these years. BTW, I originally had a yen for acting, and did some, but then I realized if you WRITE, you can play all the parts.
ReplyDeleteI don't think you can be a traditionally published writer without a lot of hard work and devotion, year after year. You still have to write the darn books! Yes, I think luck has a part to play in who becomes a bestseller. And also, in who gets hit by a beer truck, and who gets to live to 80! (and I like what Eve says above, about writers getting to play all the parts!)
ReplyDeleteHow true, Chris, about the versatility of a gift for writing. I've written some memorable letters to institutions, professionals, and others who have let me down, and my missives to my grandchildren are kept and cherished (as are theirs to me).
ReplyDeleteYes, yes, and yes. Writing is the gift that keeps on giving, and you're never alone if you have a pencil (or keyboard). I've written since I was about ten and made my first sale at sixty. But it was a matter of finding the right publisher and editor who needed something like I could write. You have to keep sending work out until it finds the right place.
ReplyDeleteI used to tell students in my writing workshops that it's like high school. You only need to get ONE yes to find a date for the prom.
I'm in agreeance with all of y'all, on the gifts of writing. When Mr. Elizabeth & I were starting to file his SSDI disability claim, an old boyfriend had already explained to me how to go about it, but I was the one who wrote a cover letter for the application in my best medicalese, outlining his medical problems so none of them would be overlooked. We were called to the Social Security office for additional paperwork & instructions, then he was sent for a thorough physical exam, which he flunked🙃, & afterwards started getting direct deposits. That was 25 years ago & he doesn't like me taking credit for it, but fuck that noise, it amounts to many thousands of dollars which we received without having to pay 33% to 40% to an attorney.
ReplyDeleteYou mention the compulsion to write as something embedded in your DNA and a lifelong source of meaning. Do you think this urge would have found a way to express itself even without the professional success or external validation, or is part of your identity as a writer tied to having an audience?
ReplyDeleteChris, whatever the cause, ya done good, but I suspect Lynn was right.
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