Over the course of the last couple of weeks I’ve talked to college students, masters program students, and professionals at Comic Con in my roles as author and freelance writer and former editor. I struggled to create the right balance: I wanted to encourage my audiences to pursue their passions—why bother otherwise—but I also wanted to warn them. There are so many rewards in the book industry but also so many problems, and sometimes the difference between success and failure, as in most pursuits, from finding a great apartment to finding a romantic partner, is nothing more than luck.

A theme that arose time and time again is that there are only so many things you as a writer or you as an editor can control. And so I invoke the Serenity Prayer, but for books, and the importance of knowing the difference between what you can and can’t control. The things you can’t control are not a reflection of your drive or talent. They’re not a reflection of you at all. Say that three times slowly.

The biggest lesson I’ve learned, when rattling off my resume which is almost book-length at this point, is to not let one job or one writing project define you. You are more than what you do at any given time. Therefore if and when things happen that are outside of your control, your entire sense of self isn’t at stake. Flexibility is key and it’s important to be able to adapt with the circumstances thrown your way, but you shouldn’t have to constantly contort yourself either.

Let’s use an example that the literary agent Alia Hanna-Habib and I discussed at Comic Con: finding the right literary agent is kind of like dating (my sincere apologies to people who hate dating). All it takes is a connection with one, but there is so much heartache and rejection that usually precedes finding that one. It is not entirely in your control.

Sometimes publishing feels like a romance plot in which there are a lot of kisses from frogs but no prince at the end.

And then when you and your agent have finalized a proposal or a manuscript, the process begins again: you must find the right editor, the one with whom you have chemistry, who gets who you are and what you’re trying to do (it’s also nice if they have money to spend). It’s a cliche for a reason that editors often pass on books if they “just didn’t fall in love with” them. Sometimes publishing feels like a romance plot in which there are a lot of kisses from frogs but no prince at the end.

In her excellent new memoir Joyride, Susan Orlean recounts how she had six different editors for her first book, some of whom were more interested in her and her book than others. Even after she had a big bestseller (and a subsequent flashy movie deal) with The Orchid Thief, her editor at Little, Brown ghosted her after she asked for an extension on her next book (he even de-friended her on Facebook!). Even though at one point Orlean writes that confidence is “the single essential element in good writing,” I know very few authors, even the greatest ones like Susan, who survive the publishing process with their self-possession intact (I consider myself very, very lucky in this regard).

Not that the editors Susan worked with (or most of them, anyway) were going out of their way to spurn her. Some of them were, in fact, “in love” with Susan’s book. They just had their own concerns. Job security in publishing is not guaranteed, so it’s wise for editors to always be looking for other jobs, especially if they come with a promotion. Even worse is when an editor feels comfortable in their role and gets pushed out anyway, unexpectedly. This happens more often than it should, and it’s terrible every time.

I don’t mean to paint an entirely bleak picture. Susan has been with her current publisher for a while, and they’ve done an excellent job putting her memoir out into the world. There are new authors getting new agents and new book deals all the time, and there are editors finding great success in their roles. But if you’re not one of them, I understand how difficult it can be not to blame yourself, to question your own talents. If you’re doing all you can to succeed but find yourself failing, just know that certain circumstances are outside your control.

When I’m feeling down about my career or about the state of book publishing or the creative industry in general, I remind myself that great books are still being published every single week and the luckiest of us will be able to figure out how to work on them. I know I’ll keep trying myself.

Maris Kreizman

Maris Kreizman

Maris Kreizman hosted the literary podcast, The Maris Review, for four years. Her essays and criticism have appeared in the New York Times, New York Magazine, The Atlantic, Vanity Fair, Esquire, The New Republic, and more. Her essay collection, I Want to Burn This Place Down, is forthcoming from Ecco/HarperCollins.