Sunday Brunch. . . The Sweet Smell of Success. . .

It was exactly eleven years ago today that I first made the New York Times Bestseller List. The List. THE BIG TIME. October 1, 1995. A day which will live in-- well, at least my memory.

The news came at a terrible time in my life and was most welcome. But it all felt a little unreal until a group of my writer friends in Minnesota decided to throw me a party to celebrate. And what a party it was!

But the focus of this blog is the idea of success. Our definition of it and our reaction to it. If you think back, you'll probably remember a number of times in your life that you thought: "if only X would happen. . . I would have it made."

But would you? What are the real effects of success? How long does it last? And how does it change you? A surprising number of people fear success; even the thought of it takes them into unknown territory. They have no models for it in their lives and don't trust themselves to handle it. Or they fear the inevitable changes that come with it. . . failing to realize that even if you're not successful, sooner or later, you'll still have to cope with change. That part is not an option. Change happens.

What did it change for me? The first and most lasting effect was that the money got better. Vastly better. And right away. My publishing house didn't wait for the book I was working on (the last in my contract) to be turned in. They offered me another three-book deal with great money and good options. And I got respect from people both inside and outside the industry in a way I'd never experienced. (Even my neighbors knew what the New York Times List was!) People, including editors, knew my name and wanted to meet me at conferences. . . I began to see the subtle ebb and flow of "influence." I also got congratulations from people I couldn't believe knew my name. . . other writers who had made the list before me. Really interesting. There were also requests for speeches and workshop talks and they asked me to run for Pan Liaison for the RWA board. . . flattering stuff. . . none of which had anything to do with my writing. Except that it sometimes interefered with my actual writing.

Did it change me? Sort of. I saw the world of publishing in a bigger way and understood more of "what happens and why." I saw that I could handle success, that it wasn't a nightmare or corrupting or disruptive of my life and relationships. I saw that my values and my ideals and behavior stayed steady. My primary and most important concerns --always my family, faith, and friends-- were still at the core of my life. All good things to know.

But I have to say, in the intervening years my definition of success has changed. I still want to be able to have a comfortable income and some financial security. (More and more difficult for everyone in this changing publishing climate.) But what is increasingly important to me is fostering a sense of community wherever I am. . . on line, in my neighborhood, my church, my writers' groups. More than ever, having the chance to love and be with my family seems like the goal I should be striving for. And I want to help others realize their potential and follow their dreams, too. Intangibles. Much more important than they used to be.

Not that I wouldn't welcome another million dollar contract. ;)

And not that I'm perfectly adjusted and confident. I still get freaked out about the prospect of writing new things and moving genres, and I wonder if I'm on the right track-- personally and professionally. But I'm not afraid. Not of success.

I have looked it in the eye. And I'd like to think neither of us blinked.

So. . . what are you working toward? What's the brass ring you most want to grab? I think it's true that you have to set goals and state them concisely and often. A sale, a multi-book contract, an award, a contest win, a nomination, a great review, a list, an invitation to speak, a meeting with an editor, a wonderful contract, mention in People or Entertainment Weekly, a film option, a foreign edition, an author tour, a special promotion put on by your publisher. . . reaching a certain number on a bestseller list. . . what's your goal?

Maybe your definition of success has to do with being able to pay for whatever college your kids want to attend. . . or saving for that lake cabin. . . or having people recognize you and line up to get you to sign books. . . or holding your new grandchild and saying to your grown-up kid, "well done."

Whatever it is. . . state it. . . share it. . . make it real for yourself somehow.

You can start right here. Snag a cup of coffee and a croissant and pull up a chair.

We're your Sunday Brunch bunch. We'll listen.