Breshly News

Today’s post is by author and book coach Amy L. Bernstein.

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Generally speaking, writers have an unlimited appetite for discussing writing. The craft itself, of course, but also contracts, marketing and publicity, agent-shopping, advances and royalties, finding trusted beta readers, and so forth. Put half a dozen writers together in a room and hours later, they’re still going at it, with plenty left to say as long as the drinks and snacks hold out.

But one topic we don’t discuss nearly enough in my view is the role that grit plays in predicting and shaping who will succeed as a career author (that is, become happily and serially published) and who will walk away from it all, possibly heartbroken and defeated, or at least having decided there are better and certainly more lucrative ways to suffer.

Our species would never have gotten this far without a large dose of raw grit, which we can thank for enabling us to solve problems (hunting woolly mammoths, heating frigid caves) and to persevere in the face of daunting odds (draught, floods, war, famine).

About a dozen years ago, the concept of grit was revived for the modern age by psychologist Angela Duckworth (author of Grit: The Power of Passion and Perseverance), who described it as “a facet of conscientiousness defined as passion and perseverance for long-term goals.”

The short-hand term for grit might be stick-to-it-ive-ness. It’s a quality every writer needs to meet short-term goals, such as finishing or revising a book chapter, as well as long-term goals, which include weathering dry creative spells and bouts of rejection.

Grit is not a function of intelligence

Since Duckworth burst onto the scene with fresh insights into what grit is, who has it, and how to get it, many researchers have delved into the topic and produced new insights. One study from 2022, for instance, offered the encouraging news that “high grit people do not necessarily have a greater cognitive capacity. Rather, they use it in a different way.”

Simply put, a writer’s capacity for grit (or anyone’s) isn’t tied to how smart they are, but rather, how they manage and regulate emotions and responses to external stimuli.

Think about this: Really smart people don’t necessarily succeed because they’re smart but because they pay close attention to what’s going on around them and tend toward mindfulness over impulsivity. Researchers refer to this as a “cautious profile of control.”

Not every writer fits this profile, of course. Think of Hunter S. Thompson and his long cocaine-and-alcohol-fueled benders, to name just one scribe who behaved impulsively and perhaps not entirely mindfully.

But let’s not miss the larger point here, which is that grittiness is a deeply useful social construct that operates like the low hum of your refrigerator motor; it’s always there in the background, doing its job, keeping the machine running at a steady rate. Because these days, any writer pursuing a career based on creativity must also grapple with the business end of the business, so to speak. It’s hard to do that without leaning into—and making a point of developing—the kind of gritty perseverance that sees you through the tough times and uncertainties every writer faces.

Another fairly recent finding about grit that writers should welcome is the idea that “perseverance of effort predicts … success more reliably than consistency of interests.” The subject here revolved around academia, but surely we can extrapolate to the writing community at large. My takeaway is that it’s fine to flit from genre to genre, fiction to nonfiction and back again, books to essays, as long as you remain consistent in your commitment to your writing practice and all that goes with, i.e., the ups and downs.

Writers planning for a serious career need to take grit seriously as a part of their survival toolkit. Research suggests several factors to consider as you build your grit muscles. (I want to acknowledge that writers who identify as neuro-atypical, neuro-divergent, diagnosed with ADHD and more, may need to adapt some of these tactics, and draw upon others, to align with the way their own brains operate. Thus, what follows is a generalization.) These factors include:

Practicing a growth mindset

Writers often fixate on outcomes well outside their control, ranging from landing an agent to winning a literary prize or writing a bestseller. Setting such pinpoint goals often leads to disappointment, burnout, and a sense of failure. The flip side is to adapt a growth mindset that prizes effort for its own sake, learning, embracing challenges, and seeing failure as an opportunity to grow. Think of your writing career as a living, breathing entity that requires care and encouragement, not repeated head-bashings. Grit involves a flexible attitude, not a rigid one.

Maintaining self-control

Writing can certainly feel like an emotional roller-coaster, between the creative act itself, the submission process, and everything that leads up to a publishing deal—followed by tussles with an editor who you believe is out to maul your copy. But you’re not well-served by allowing strong emotions to get the better of you at any stage of the business. Tears one day followed by champagne the next is no way to sustain a career. Make the pursuit of an even keel your goal. It’s an essential component of grit. And remember that a writing career spans years and your sense of success, failure, and self-worth cannot be measured in weeks or months. When you turn 90, then you can assess.

Remaining focused

Be grateful to your brain’s prefrontal cortex, which is responsible for executive functions including planning, decision-making, working memory, and impulse control. This is, in part, the biological basis for grit. In the face of challenges, these capacities can help you remain focused on crucial tasks as you work to avoid spinning out emotionally and/or losing the ability to concentrate. If you want help getting in touch with the power of your prefrontal cortex, check out Breathe. Write. Breathe. by Lisa Tener; Do You Feel Like Writing? by Frankie Rollins; and Creative Resilience by Erica Ginsberg.

Responding to stress

As professions go, writing may not be as stressful as, say, open-heart surgery, but it’s up there. But stress isn’t all bad. Some people with a severe peanut allergy can acquire a healthy tolerance for the stuff by frequent, short-term exposure to increasing amounts. Being gritty means tolerating stress, sometimes lots of it. Avoiding stress is rarely the answer to managing it. Rather, think of your ability and willingness to handle stress as part of your stress inoculation strategy, which begins by understanding your stress triggers and responses and reframing stress as a solvable challenge. Learning to handle stress with healthy coping mechanisms sure beats freaking out every time something doesn’t break your way.

A personal grit story

Looking back over the last decade of my own writing journey, I see now that I have grit to thank for anything I’ve accomplished as a writer. Grit—not talent, not luck, not connections—has sustained me through a crushing load of rejections, a publishing deal gone bad, years of intense self-doubt.

Grit is the pillar that remained upright when the foundations crumbled around me. And I clung to it. I chose to persevere, no matter what.

I recently signed a contract for my third traditionally published novel after more than two years of fruitless pitching. I was on the cusp of giving up. But the gritty voice inside me wouldn’t let me—and I’m so glad I listened.

As I write this, another rejection has dropped into my inbox. But that’s okay. Because the definition of grit is to put one foot in front of another every single day, to keep creating, even as obstacles arise and foundations crumble.

The artist’s life is bumpy and unpredictable. By tapping into your inner grittiness, you’ll give yourself and your career a fighting chance to blossom for years to come.