Why ‘FAIL’ is my word of the year…and it should be yours, too

I will tell you a secret I’ve been terrified to admit to anyone I know.

I’ve wanted to write a book — the same book! — since I was fresh out of college. I’ve had the idea for more than 20 years, and the idea has only grown inside me, gnawing at my brain like an urgent, unfinished task.

So every year for at least the past five or six years I’ve made one of my yearly goals to write this dad-blasted book, and every year I have refused. I was searching for another word there, but I think “refused” hits the nail on the head. I just haven’t done it. I’ve accomplished life-changing things over the same time period, but the book remains unwritten. 

The reason for this, of course, is fear.

I will do anything I can to avoid staring at that blank page. I’ll write anything in the world — blog posts like this, even! — that keep me from the task of working on a single chapter. I’m afraid I’m not talented enough. I’m afraid my ideas are stupid. I’m afraid the structure is wrong. I’m afraid the characters aren’t believable. I’m afraid that if I were to foist this would-be book on any reasonable editor or agent they would tell me I should quit while I’m ahead.

One Word: FAIL

A few years ago, I read the book “One Word that Can Change Your Life.” 

The book’s main idea is that instead of making a complicated list of goals, you can instead focus on one word that will galvanize your creativity, imagination and motivation, directing you towards exciting life change.

While I’m still a guy who needs concrete goals in front of him, I like the idea of having a word or a theme for the year that helps me to craft goals in a specific direction. Some of my friends and respected colleagues posted about their word for the year and how it is helping them focus, and I thought it could be a useful tool to help me finally make traction.

So after much reflection and consideration, I decided that my word for this year is “FAIL.”

To many of you, it might sound like a self-defeating mantra. It might sound like a way to purposely sabotage any success I might enjoy this year, as if I’m laying the groundwork to quit yet again with my own preordained blessing.

I have a different goal in mind, though.

The results of FEAR

You see, fear paralyzes. It’s why deer stop dead in their tracks when they see headlights. It’s why victims in horror movies freeze and try not to breathe when they hear a bump in the night. It’s also why insecure writers like me don’t put pen to paper.

The fear allows me to rationalize: to read a book about writing instead of writing, to tell myself I’m just not ready yet, to make plans and gather notes and do busywork while I avoid writing the book I’ve always wanted to write.

When I tell myself to FAIL, I’m telling myself to ACT.

Theodore Roosevelt wisely said, “It is hard to fail, but it is worse never to have tried to succeed.” I’m getting to the age where I’m considering what it will be like to lay on my deathbed filled with regret, and I can’t stomach the reality of an unfulfilled life.

If I’m going to make a dent in this world or leave anything worthy of my efforts, I have to be willing and prepared to FAIL at it. No writer ever stirred the human heart with a blank page.

There, I’ve confessed.

Now, go and fail likewise.