“Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try Again. Fail again. Fail better.” Many of us are familiar with this quote from Samuel Beckett. Many of us feel like we live it every day – well, at least the “fail again” part.

I’ve been reading a lot of columns and blogs on success and failure recently. Perhaps because it’s a hot topic of conversation right now (hey, if Chuck Wendig is talking about it…). Or perhaps because I’m unconsciously seeking them out, trying to figure out my own definition of success. And failure.

As a writer, it’s my job to make sure failure is part of the story. Do my characters know exactly what they want, or do they have to make some mistakes first, to realize what they need? Does the detective catch the killer with his initial instinct, or does he struggle through a few wrong turns first?

For my characters, the choice is easy. They need to fail. They need to fail repeatedly, in fact, before they’re allowed to succeed. Who wants to read a story about a detective who always catches the killer as soon as he’s on the case? Not a very exciting read, if you ask me, and as James Scott Bell describes eloquently here.

We as readers are eager to read about a few failures before our hero succeeds in his goal. Perhaps because we thrive on the tension that comes with the ups and downs of the hero’s investigation. Or perhaps because seeing literary heroes fail before they succeed gives us hope for our own failures. Because we know that everyone—ourselves included—needs to fail before we can succeed.

I accept the value of failure in my endeavors, as frustrating as that can be. But I’m still left with a particularly vexing question: how do I define success? Sure, I can learn from my failures, figure out what to change to achieve a different result next time. But what qualifies as success? (Here’s a link to a post I enjoyed on achieving “success.”)

To tell the truth, I haven’t figured that one out yet. Each time I hit a milestone that I thought would define success, I realize there’s another peak ahead for me to climb. Until I figure out what Success (with a capital S) means to me, I plan simply to celebrate the small accomplishments, each baby step that brings me that much closer.

For me, my small step toward Success this week is that my first book, A Blind Eye, is now available for pre-order as an ebook on Amazon (it will be available in other formats in September). So if you’ll join me, let’s drink a toast to these, the baby steps.

How about you? Have you figured out how to define success for what you want to achieve?

www.janegorman.com

Warsaw’s Royal Palace dominates one bank of the Wisła River. It has been a royal residence and cultural center, a site of devastation and of hope. It is also where Łukasz Kaminski was left to die.

The Royal Palace marks the easternmost edge of the Stare Miasto, Warsaw’s Old Town, a cobblestone-paved area that stretches west toward Warsaw’s modern business district. Scars etched into the walls of the palace paint a picture of a long history, showing repairs, additions and changes wrought upon the structure over the past seven centuries.

I use the Old Town as the opening scene in A Blind Eye. One of my characters, Łukasz Kaminski, has been beaten and left for dead. As he slowly recovers—both his strength and his memory—he makes his painful way through the Old Town to the Royal Palace. The photograph on the book’s cover shows the scene, looking at the Palace from across the Wisła River.

It’s a fascinating place, and well worth a visit if you ever find yourself in Warsaw.

The Great Tower was erected in the fourteenth century and the palace expanded significantly in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. It was a royal residence, the place where parliamentary deliberations were held and the administrative and cultural center of the country. Like so many places in Poland, however, it suffered through wars and partitions.

Once a site of great artistic collections, its art and artifacts were looted. In the nineteenth century, during the partitions of Poland, most of the collections ended up in Russia. Only some of the collections were returned when Poland regained its independence.

World War II brought yet more destruction. Warsaw’s Old Town was devastated during the war, the Royal Palace no exception. If you’re on Pinterest (and I know it’s not for everyone), I’ve pinned some images there showing the brutal impact of the war on the built environment.

The decision to rebuild the castle was made in 1971, but funds were solely lacking. The Polish people came together to rebuild. I remember my mother telling me about her childhood in Poland, collecting used tin cans to send back to Warsaw for the rebuilding effort. Every little bit helped. Thanks to the dedication of the Polish people, the needed funds became available in 1980. In 1984, the reconstructed interiors were opened to the general public. Here is a photo of my family (many years ago) in front of the Royal Palace and another of my mother in front of Zygmunt’s Column in the Old Town.

The Royal Palace is just one of the many fascinating places I explore through fiction. I’ll share more in future posts. How about you, what wonderful places have you visited through the joys of reading?