Sans Fig Leaf
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"Of success"
28 September, 2006
There are many ways that we measure our lives. Some people focus on milestones (graduation, first "real" job, marriage, children, owning your own home). Some people are concerned primarily with financial success, others with fame or popularity. Yet others aspire to noble or idealistic accomplishment.
How someone defines success says at least as much about them as their accomplishments do. For example, this last weekend I attended a small local literary convention. I've been meaning to attend for years, but it has frequently fallen on either the same date as another convention where I was staff, or so close to it that I just didn't have the time to attend.
This year we had a small table with our literary publication on display. I was also assisting with an interactive writing project throughout the weekend. We sold a few issues and a couple of subscriptions. Truth be told, our total intake didn't quite cover the cost of the table.
But still I thought of the weekend as a success. I got to spend a lot of time with some friends. I got to meet a lot of interesting people--many of them quite pleasant to talk to. I got to talk to some friends I almost never get to see. We went out to dinner with friends a couple times, and that was a lot of fun.
We got to browse the wares of a number of booksellers. We looked at good artwork. I had a neat exchange with one of my favorite authors.
I got to spend a lot of the weekend shepherding people through the writing project. Among other things, that meant I got to talk nostalgically about typewriters, mimeographs, and other bits of old (but not quite gone) technology. I also got to talk to several people about the joys and tribulations of writing, the creative process, and some of our favorite books, authors, or artists.
In short, I had a great time. So it was really easy, when I was asked by a staffer on the last day whether I thought we'd be back, to say "yes."
I suppose it is possible that I am simply too easy to please. Given how some people have reacted to my edits when they submit stories to publications I edit for, I don't think that is the case, but I am hardly an objective judge of my own behaviour.
On the other hand, there are certainly conventions that I have not thought of as successes. Including conventions where our publication sold considerable better than this last weekend.
When I think about those occassions, I realize that what sticks out in my mind the most is not whether or not I had a good time, but memories of other people not having a good time. And not just my friends--some of the strongest memories of are near-perfect strangers clearly having a bad experience.
I don't just mean that I overheard people complaining, because I hear that at every event that I consider a success. No matter how well-run an event is, there will be some fraction of the attendees who think it ought to be run their way, that people should go to immense trouble and expense to change things to their liking, and so forth. There is also always a small fraction of people who never seem happy unless they are complaining. And that doesn't even get into the people who find themselves in a reasonably good situation, but won't expend the effort to enjoy it while they have a chance.
The bad situations I'm thinking of are those where I could see that the person really had reason to expect that things would have been better. So it isn't good enough that I had a good time--things have to be run well enough that the people who are willing and able to enjoy it can.
The day after the convention was my birthday. Michael and I had fairly low-key plans. Unfortunately, we both came down with a severe cold that very day. Most of the plans were scrubbed. But I still think it was a good birthday. I got to spend the day with the man I love. I received well wishes from a lot of my loved ones out of town. And of course there was cake and ice cream.
Not even a cold could spoil that!
--Arthur Rubinstein
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