Am I a failure? (Are you?)
I'm a popular author and CEO, but I'm also a quitter. Here's why that's my biggest success—and why it might be yours, too.
The other day, my niece told me she didn’t think college was for her. When I asked why, she said, “I procrastinate too much. I can’t finish anything without a deadline, and I do everything at the last minute.”
I told her she had it all wrong, pulling an all-nighter on a paper she had months to write would make her the quintessential college student.
“Nobody does anything without a deadline,” I assured her, myself included. “That doesn’t make you a failure, it just makes you human.”
As the words left my mouth, I realized how much I needed to hear them as well.
Since my novel Because Fat Girl came out in October, I have been beating myself up for not writing a follow-up romance novel right away.
Never mind that since the book came out 10 months ago, I have:
Had another organ removed – my fourth in a year.
Published my non-fiction book The Writer’s Career Guide: How to Build a Sustainable Creative Life on Your Terms
Spent six weeks in Mexico filling a journal with ideas and writing the beginnings of a memoir.
Had a sexy summer, reclaiming my personal life and my Queerie Bradshaw brand.
Finished a spec script and a TV pilot while getting my Certificate in TV Writing from UCLA.
But somehow, none of that seemed to matter to me because for the life of me I couldn’t get excited about writing another romance novel.
And I had to write another romance novel, ASAP.
Right?
“The best way to sell the first book is to write the second,” they’ve said to me, over and over again in the twenty years since I started in this industry.
That’s what successful romance authors did. They wrote and wrote and wrote, satisfying the reader’s desire to devour book after book.
That’s the only way to success in this industry – or so I’ve been told a million times by agents, authors, publicists, and publishers.
What happens if you can’t keep up with the industry’s standards of success?
I’ve been asking myself this about building an online business as well.
School for Writers® is my pride and joy, a company that has paid my bills and allowed me to pay employees and contractors decent to great wages for five years now.
But we’ve never gone viral on social media. We’ve never had an evergreen funnel that passively made me millions. We’ve never reached scalable status for investors.
Does that make School for Writers a failure?
In the wake of a few bad hires, a couple people moving on, and the industry changing, I’ve downsized the company so it’s me and a couple contractors.
Is that a company failure?
Last month, I decided to hit pause on my flagship Write Your Friggin’ Book Already® program. People weren’t showing up to the calls, and when I reached out asking what they needed, they all said space and time offline. So we’re revamping it, reimagining it for the needs of people in 2025.
Did the program fail?
This week, I started applying to full-time jobs at other companies. I love running School for Writers, but I’m lonely and miss being a part of a robust and collaborative team. I won’t close my company down completely, but I’m transitioning it from something that take all of my time and energy, to a side hustle.
Does that make me a failure?
If something doesn’t last forever, does that make it a failure?
When I closed down my Write Your Friggin’ Book Already® program to revamp it, a friend sent me this Tumblr post, and I resonated with every word.
Who gets to decide if something is a failure or a success?
That little voice inside of your brain that’s constantly nitpicking everything you do?
Your high school guidance counselor?
That one dude on YouTube who has the ultimate secret to success for just $499?
The truth is, measures of failure and success change daily.
The world of publishing, business, and even our own brains will try to put a value on our work based on metrics that don't serve us:
How many units you sell
How quickly you work
How many millions your company is worth
How many followers you have on social media
How fancy your title is at work
But none of those things speak to the real value of what you create.
Only one thing continues to hold true as metric of success for me: resilience.
The real measure of success is whether you found your own voice.
Did you stay true to your own story? Did you build a life and a career on your own terms? Did you bring something meaningful into the world that didn't exist before?
Did the project bring you joy at the time? Were there moments of hard work that led to pride in a job well done? Did you learn or grow?
Was there passion and love? Did you let yourself be vulnerable and put yourself out there? Did you try something new?
If you answered yes to one or more of those questions, then you did it. You are a success!
At least in my mind.
But honestly, what my mind thinks doesn’t matter. Only yours does.
Only you can define success or failure for yourself.
If you want some help doing just that, check out my book The Writer's Career Guide: How to Build a Sustainable Creative Life on Your Terms. It's a roadmap to building a career that you define—not one defined by an industry that profits off your exhaustion.
So am I a failure? Are you? The answer is: yes, we’re totally failures.
But we’re also badasses who try new things.
We’re people who understand when it’s time to let something go.
We’re creatives who know that mistakes can become beautiful art.
We’re humans who know that failure is a part of the process.
We’re friends who cheer each other on through both the ups and the downs.
Whether you’re feeling like a total success, an absolute failure, or something in between, I’m always here to remind you that you’re exactly where you need to be and you’re doing your best.
Keep following your curiosity. Keep creating your art. Keep using your voice.
Because the world needs your story now more than ever.™
With love,
Lauren
P.S. How do you define success for yourself? Share your process with me in the comments. I’d love to learn from you. <3
I needed this! Thank you. :)
God, I needed this! Bookmarking, saving, framing, embroidering it on a throw pillow.