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Happy Thanksgiving, to those of you who celebrate.

This holiday that inspires reflection on what we are grateful for always makes me think of an exchange my husband and I have when we discuss whether each of us is a glass-half-full or glass-half-empty type of person.

“The glass is always full,” he cracks every time. “It’s just that half of it is air, not water.”

I love this perspective, particularly coming from my husband, who is not exactly the idealistic, optimistic half of our relationship.

I think it’s easy to focus only on the obviously positive things we might be grateful for and overlook blessings that might not be so readily identifiable. But maybe, especially at a time where it may feel a little tougher to find as much to be thankful for, we can shift our perspective a bit.

Rethinking Negative Bias

One thing I say in almost every editorial letter I write is that editors are a little like home inspectors: Our job is to focus on finding things that may not be as strong and solid as they could be so they can be addressed, and because of that we may not get to point out all the many areas that are working beautifully.

Writing editorial feedback has been good training ground for me to take time to focus on the positive, though, so that I can share with authors what’s working beautifully in their story already, an approach that goes a long way toward making the medicine go down easier.

See if you can bring this approach to your own writing. It’s so easy when assessing our own stories to focus on its perceived shortcomings, all the ways it doesn’t measure up to the vision in our head or what we hoped it could be or other novels we love.

But are you overlooking what are undoubtedly its many strengths? Writers seem especially prone to negative bias—the proven human tendency to fixate on the bad even when it’s vastly outweighed by the good (if you’ve ever obsessed over a single bad review among many more good ones, you already viscerally know this). But I also say frequently that in decades of working as an editor I have yet to see a manuscript that didn’t have something good and promising that we could work with and develop, no matter how new the author or how rough a draft might be.

What if we learned to look at our own writing more through the loving eyes of a parent who sees all their child’s wonderful qualities, even if they also realistically see areas where they may be struggling? What if we took a more respectful and positive approach, the way a good editor should with an author’s manuscript: not trashing on our stories for where they may fall short, but appreciating where they succeed, even as we can also realistically identify areas where we can keep adding more depth and clarity?

What if instead of focusing on the milestones in your career you haven’t yet hit, you take time to appreciate the ones you have? The words you wrote today, the thorny plot problem you finally cracked, the completed manuscript(s), the published books?

Even if it’s just being proud and grateful for the time and freedom to write, the courage and fortitude to do so, the creativity and ideas you honor by exploring them. You probably already know this as well as I do, but it seems like everyone wants to write a book, and everyone thinks they have a story in them (and they do, of course; we all do, many stories, because we’re human and we have lived). But how many of them are actually doing it? If you’re sitting down to work on your writing at all, then take a lap—you’re already ahead of the game.

It’s so easy to focus on the lacks—noticing how much water isn’t in the glass—instead of appreciating all that you do have.

Sometimes—especially with us Thanksgiving-celebrating, achievement-focused ’Muricans—we can get so focused on relentlessly driving toward our goals and attaining our ambitions that we don’t let ourselves appreciate our progress and accomplishments.

Read more: “Looking Back to Plan Ahead”

Doing so isn’t vanity and it won’t make us complacent, which I think are two common fears of letting ourselves admire our own work or achievements. It’s simply realistically assessing not just our weaknesses but our strengths, and allowing ourselves to celebrate the latter just as we hopefully would with a loved one or a child or a fellow writer.

The Upside of Downsides

Some things, of course, even though they may fill our glass, aren’t necessarily things we want to fill it with. I’m talking about writing setbacks, like fallow periods or frustrating stories that won’t come together, or rejection letters, or losing a publishing contract, or daunting sales, or any of the other myriad ways in which any mercurial creative business can set authors on their heels. How are we supposed to find the blessings to be grateful for in events like these?

Those situations are undeniably tougher. They can be discouraging and disheartening—in a business where it’s so important for authors to find ways to stay motivated and believe in themselves.

I’m not suggesting we play Pollyanna and pretend those things are blessings in disguise. But I do believe that no experience is wasted if we learn from it, and that everything, even the unpleasant parts of our lives, can help get us to where we want to go, can make us stronger and more resilient, can teach us lessons that make us better and wiser.

With rejection, for instance, I liken it to my many years as a single person wondering if I’d ever find someone I wanted to share my life with. One day a close friend told me, “You just haven’t met the right person yet, but everyone who isn’t that person brings you closer to whoever is.”

Overnight it shifted my perspective. I started looking at my past relationships not as “failed,” but as steps on the path toward where I wanted to go—ones that taught me what I wanted, and what I didn’t. I started focusing on how damned grateful I was that I hadn’t ended up with any of those people who weren’t the right ones for me.

The same goes for “failed” drafts, “failed” queries to agents and publishers, “failed” book launches, etc. Who is to say what wide-open doors the ones that close in our face might lead us to? Failure is normal, it’s natural, and it’s a part of every journey. If you never fail then you never learn the lessons and skills that help you succeed.

My friend’s wise words also shifted my focus from hoping to find the person with whom I could start to build a fulfilling and meaningful life to realizing that I could and already was doing that just fine all on my own. Finding someone to share it with would be a lovely bonus, but it wasn’t necessary in order for me to find happiness and satisfaction in my life—just as it isn’t necessary for an author to garner a big publishing contract or become a bestseller or make millions of dollars or become a household name to create a very happy and rewarding writing career for themselves.

Read more: "Creating the Career You Want"

But Some Things Genuinely Suck

Some things are just undeniably unpleasant, painful, disturbing, frustrating, heartbreaking. The loss of a loved one, the loss of a job, the loss of democracy (sigh). Financial troubles, health problems both physical and mental, emotional roadblocks and struggles. That stuff, to use the scientific term, sucks, and what is there possibly to find to be grateful for amid challenges like that?

I’m not downplaying real suffering or suggesting a positive attitude is all we need to alleviate it. Sometimes life is just hard and unfair and painful.

But that’s not all it is. It can also be beautiful and rewarding and fulfilling.

In my darkest moments I try to remember to find something, no matter how small, to remind me that this isn’t the way everything is and it’s not the way things will always be.

That might be something as tiny as a beautiful day where I can get outside and let nature work a little bit of its magic and remind me how impossibly lovely this world can be and how lucky I am to get to live in it for whatever time I’m given. It might be my husband’s hug, my dog’s smile, a kind gesture from a friend (or for one, which often lifts my mood even more than being on the receiving end).

If I’m struggling in one area, for instance my health, I try to find something in that area I can notice and be grateful for, like the strength of my legs or the breath in my lungs or the agility of my mind. If I’m upset or struggling in one relationship in my life, I try to pay attention to others as well that are more positive or healthier or stronger at that moment.

When I’m saddened or angered or frustrated by the state of the world, I look for things in my immediate life that are positive and good: my husband and family, the friends I have, my robust support network, a comfortable home I love, my work, my community. I try to focus on the now and look for what’s good within it, rather than worrying about what may come, or dwelling longingly in what I may feel has been lost.

I’ve talked about Martin Short’s approach to life, where he breaks it into categories like classes in a school curriculum, and when one area is suffering he focuses harder on others to keep his overall GPA strong. His system reminds me that we are more than our areas of suffering or setback.

Read more: “Prioritizing Your Life”

I don’t mean to imply with any of this that I’m someone who always looks on the bright side of life, or that everyone should be more like that, or even that every situation has an upside. On this Thanksgiving holiday, I’m just feeling a little reflective and wondering whether allowing ourselves to shift our perspective just a bit might alleviate some of our suffering and make the world and our lives seem a little bit brighter.

I’m letting my husband’s perspective remind me not to define happiness or success solely by obvious or measurable standards, but to remember to notice and appreciate those blessings that may be not as readily visible but are no less real.

I wish each of you joy and love and satisfaction in every aspect of your life. And when things fall short of those hopes and expectations, as they inevitably will, I wish you perspective and support and a minimum of pain.

I’m grateful for all of you, and each of you, who spend a portion of your limited time on this Earth with me here in this writing community. And I’m grateful for the work you do that makes the world a little more creative and a little bit brighter.

Thanks for everything, authors. I’d love to hear what blessings—hidden and otherwise—you might be thankful for!

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