Success is for the Delusional
Success is for the delusional. I coined that little phrase years ago. I don’t even remember why, but it’s true, isn’t it? People who think they can actually be successful in a hyper-competitive field are completely delusional. Don’t believe me? Let me hit you with some statistics. About half of all new businesses will fail within five years. Probably as few as 2% of actors are able to make a living off of their craft. Even working musicians still only make ⅔ of their living from music. Side hustle, anyone? Then of course, there’s writing. A field where the odds of getting published are a soul crushing 1-2% – maybe.
You think you can “make it” in one of these hyper-competitive fields? Look at the numbers. Look at the odds. It’s completely insane! I have to be suffering from some kind of personality disorder to think that the words I write are good enough to stand out among the other 5,000 unsolicited queries sitting on top of every literary agent's proverbial desk. I’m 30 years old for god’s sake. I have a master’s degree in a practical field that will make me decent amounts money. I’ve set myself up to live comfortably and safely – but no . . . I want to be a writer. Worst of all, I actually believe I can do it – most days.
Oh, I’m certainly suffering from delusion. But then again, at one point, every single person living my dream, once suffered from the same delusions plaguing me. Those people – the ones who are doing what I want to do – were once delusional enough to believe they could make it too. They were delusional enough to push through thousands of “nos” slamming into their ears. Delusional enough to ignore the criticism and doubts of their friends and family. They were delusional enough to think that a role, available to only 1% of those who want it, could be theirs, and you know the craziest part? Being delusional worked for them!
I’ve done postmortem after postmortem on all of my dead dreams, trying to source the final blow that put those fragile hopes into the ground once and for all. It was always my innate ability to wise up. I became practical, asking myself the pernicious question: Am I really good enough? Never allowing myself to give in to the delusion that maybe, just maybe, I was. But everything has changed now. I wrote a book. I wrote two. I’m close to writing three, and I think I’m good enough. I delude myself to think that, despite my 27 instagram followers and wasteland of an inbox, I could still make it. Not because I’m popular, no, definitely not, but because my books are good. So, I’ll keep trying. Who knows? If I stay delusional enough, maybe one day, I’ll finally be where I want to be.