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This week’s post comes with a homework assignment, but since it’s optional we’ll call it a homework suggestion.

It’s based on a thought-provoking exercise I recently read in How to Be Perfect, a book on ethics and philosophy by comedy writer and TV creator Michael Schur, the mind behind (among many other writing credits) Parks and Rec, Man on the Inside, and The Good Place. The hubs and I were just enchanted by all over again in a rewatch of the latter series, which sparked a renewed interest in my lifelong fascination with ethics and led me to Schur’s book on the moral philosophies behind the clever show.

The exercise in question came in a chapter on the role of luck in each of our lives, starting with, in the words of Warren Buffett, the “ovarian lottery” of where we’re born, when, to whom, and the myriad other factors out of our control, like our place of birth, race, gender, socioeconomic security, etc.

Schur (and Buffett) talks about the “self-made” myth: that some people are so invested in the idea that they pulled themselves up solely by their own bootstraps that they discount the many inherent advantages and lucky accidents that were theirs. But luck—in all its many forms, like timing and contacts and countless other uncontrollables—factors into each of our paths, whether we’re comfortable admitting that or not.

That doesn’t negate the hard work and determination and talent and skill and every other factor that may play into whatever we may deem as success, but luck certainly plays a role, which Schur demonstrated by listing out his path toward his very successful career. It included being in the right place at the right time, meeting the right people, and even completely random factors like shake-ups at NBC when he was working on Saturday Night Live that allowed him to glide under the radar in a job he says he knew he was failing at until he finally mastered it.

I’ve always attributed my career path in no small part to a lucky series of events I couldn’t possibly have orchestrated, and I was so intrigued by the way Schur traced his that I decided to do the same, to see specifically where luck has factored into my life.

• Regular readers know my original intention was to be an actor, but I was always good at English, and a high AP English test score meant I exempted an entire year of it in college (which I was exceedingly lucky to attend because my hardworking single mother was determined to provide a college education for her children). Because it was fun and relatively easy for me I took English courses wherever I could use them to fulfill curriculum requirements, and when getting a theater degree at my college meant I would have had to extend my schooling to wait for the right courses to come around, instead I defaulted to the easy English degree I had plenty of credits for.
• So when I was looking for a job other than waitressing to support my acting and was lucky enough to see an ad in the paper hawking a pamphlet on how to get paid for reading books, I took a chance on it, and the happy accident of my degree came in handy as I began working as a freelance copy editor and proofreader—which was possible in these pre-internet times only because luckily I was living in New York already (the publishing capital of the world, certainly at the time) to pursue my acting career.
• I was incredibly lucky that the first editor who hired me also took the time to correct my many mistakes and help me develop my skills, rather than simply not using me anymore. I was lucky that once I did get good at it, he kindly recommended me to colleagues at other publishing houses, many of whom luckily did the same, so that my freelance business flourished and I wound up working for most of the Big Six houses (at the time).
• When my industry started to go electronic, I was so lucky that one of the in-house editors I worked with (and my tech-forward hubby I was lucky enough to marry) encouraged me to learn the new techniques, so I was well ahead of the curve by the time the entire business shifted.
• It was mind-bogglingly lucky that I decided to shift to developmental editing just at the time the self-publishing movement was beginning to get off the ground, meaning there were precious few other freelance editors with significant experience who were doing so, and my career grew quickly.
• That meant that when some publishers started hiring freelance dev editors as well, I had a stacked résumé and plenty of experience and credibility that made me stand out from the crowd.

And I’ve left out so many other instances of fortunate timing, opportune contacts, benefits I inherited, like that I was born in a free and Democratic country, in a socioeconomic situation that was far from privileged but had security and love and the freedom to consider goals for myself beyond mere day-to-day survival.

Yes, I’ve worked hard to master my field of expertise and continue to. I’ve beaten at plenty of doors to get a foot inside, and I worked my proverbial ’nads off to prove myself once I did. I spent long hours building the business into a viable full-time freelance career, and continuing to grow and expand it and my skills.

But without so many instances of sheer luck blended into that mix, no amount of work or grit or skill would have gotten me to the same place.

So how does this pertain to your writing career?

This exercise isn’t just for acknowledging the benefits luck confers and the role that it plays in our lives, although it’s great for that, and for remembering that no matter how hard you work and how good you may be, to a certain degree there are elements of your success that have nothing to do with your ability or determination.

But that’s why I think it can be such a powerful reminder. Reread that last line: There are elements of your success that have nothing to do with your ability or determination. That’s never truer than in a subjective creative industry like publishing. I’ve said this many times, but some of the most effective and well-written stories I’ve ever read never found a publisher. And there are plenty of published books and even bestsellers whose success bewilders me.

No matter how hard you work and how good you may be, to a certain degree there are elements of your success that have nothing to do with your ability or determination.

Our job as creators is to do the best work we can. That means learning and improving our craft—constantly. And it means practicing it—extensively.

It means taking swing after swing, persisting, staying in the game even when the game gets hard, even when you haven’t even gotten on the scoreboard yet and don’t know if you ever will.

It means finding ways to believe in yourself even when every external measure of how you’re doing may tell you there’s no reason to.

It means working your ass off and realizing that that never stops, not if you want to keep building your career. That’s what the job is.

Read more: "How to Succeed as a Writer: Make a Concrete Plan"

But even if you do all of that, there’s no guarantee you’re going to hit the heights you may dream of. Much of that is down to simple luck. Are you in the right place at the right time? Do you meet the right people? When the opportunities arrive, are you ready to jump on them, and willing to, and able to? Can you even recognize them for what they are, which isn’t always as easy as it sounds? There have been many minor moments in my career that didn’t feel particularly significant to my long-term success, but in my early days especially I leaped at every opportunity, and in hindsight I see now that they were essential parts of it.

Read more: "Leave Room for the Happy Accidents"

It’s humbling, and sometimes discouraging, to imagine that regardless of what we may put into our careers (or anything else), that doesn’t always dictate what we get out of it—at least not in terms of measurable external rewards, so many of which are based on factors that are often random and out of our control.

But it can also be freeing and empowering.

The Homework Suggestion

Okay, if you’re on board to try this little exercise, I encourage you to make your own “luck list”—not just for your career or your writing, but for where you are in your life, especially the things you most value.

How many factors had to converge at just the right time, in just the right way, to bring you to that point? I’m not negating your hard work or ability or determination, or the importance of laying that foundation for your success—but can you simply identify and acknowledge the pieces that fell into the right place at the right time to lead you in a certain direction or open a certain door?

Why do this? Not to bemoan your dismal fortune if you’re not where you hope to be and make yourself a victim of fate, or palliate yourself by asserting that it’s not your fault, or absolve you of responsibility for the course of your career (though it can sometimes offer some comfort when you’re frustrated that the spotlight doesn’t land on you).

But rather just the opposite: Once you shatter the myth of pure meritocracy, let it remind you how much of this career is out of your control—in a good way. Luck is a lot like the Muse: You can’t bid her to show up when you want her to, but you can damn sure make yourself ready when she does. As Seneca said: “Luck is what happens when preparation meets opportunity.”

Luck is a lot like the Muse: You can’t bid her to show up when you want her to, but you can damn sure make yourself ready when she does.

You’ve got one main job, baby: Do the work, and do it as well as you are capable of. That means continuing to practice and hone and deepen your skills—forever, because there’s no such thing as mastering this complex craft—so that when opportunities come, you’re ready with polished, professional work.

It means continually seeking out ways to expand your writing community and contacts so that you increase the probability of being in the right place or knowing the right person at the right time.

Read more: "You Don't Have to Do This Alone"

It means giving of yourself long before you start asking of others, so that when you’re the one in need people are lined up and happy to help. (I promise you’re going to need it.)

It means the process is the point—not the product. And luckily the process is the only part of this weird, mercurial, subjective business that actually is within your power to control.

What do you want your day-to-day creative life to look like? I don’t mean the result, but what you actually do?

You have the power to create that right now—how cool is that?

Good luck… 😉

Authors, I’d love to hear some of your “luck chains,” or just specific instances of good fortune that changed the course of your life or marked a turning point or opened the right door at the right time. And I’d love to hear how you prepared for those happy accidents, how you recognized them, and how you took advantage of them.

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