I have done things that turned out perfectly the first time just out of sheer luck. That’s nice, but it’s taken me years to realize that you don’t learn anything by doing something perfectly the first time around. You learn – truly learn - by doing something spectacularly wrong the first (or second or third) time and then figuring out how to fix it. Otherwise, how do you know why the right way is the right way? The why is where you learn.

This can obviously be applied to the writing world – but writing is so subjective that it’s hard to say when you’ve written a story “wrong” because there really isn’t a right way – just differing tastes and pieces that are more popular than others. But you have to start a book somewhere. The words don’t have to be perfect, but they do have to exist in order to work with them and make them better. You can revise terrible. You can’t do anything with a blank page.

Anyway, I was reminded of this philosophy while I was ripping out the stitches of a nearly finished cardigan I was knitting last week. I’ve been knitting for about 12 years, but I’d never finished an adult-sized sweater. I’d attempted dozens over the years, messed them up somewhere along the way, got discouraged, and quit. Chalk it up to impatience and unwillingness to fail. But this time something was different. After I rewound the yarn I felt the need to try again. I reread the pattern, checked my gauge, (ripped everything out just one more time) and then voila!

I’m almost prouder of this one cardigan than the two (soon to be three) books I’ve published. Almost. ;)

Anyway, my point is this, whether you’re writing or knitting or rebuilding a car engine (or your life)… you’re going to make mistakes. Everyone does. What I’ve learned is that it’s how you respond to the mistake that makes all the difference. You can quit or you can take a breath and start over. Which do you think takes more courage?