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Part 36

A Woman of the World: Her Counsel to Other People's Sons and Daughters · Ella Wheeler Wilcox — chapter 36 of 46 · ~909 words · public domain

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There are many hills which contain valuable ore, but if the owner sits in ease upon these elevations, and gazes at the sunsets, he does not find the ore. If he is a poor man, and takes his pick and digs, he finds his fortune.

At first he may cast out only loose earth and stones, but by this very necessity to find valuables, he continues to search until the ore is reached.

Were you to remain at home and enjoy all the benefits of your father's wealth, I doubt if you would have the persistence to dig down into the mine you possess within you.

You would sit on the hilltop and dream.

If you are forced to write to live, you may cast up some rubbish from the surface; yet by the continual digging you will reveal all that lies below.

Regarding the style you speak of adopting, let your feeling come first, your style of expressing that feeling second. Say nothing merely to exhibit your style--and hold back some strong feelings until you can give them the best expression.

As to the methods of getting your work before the public and the "influence" you need, I can only assure you that unless you write with purpose, and power, and passionate enjoyment of your art, forgetful of all things save your desire to express yourself, no influence on earth can do more than give you a page in a magazine, or a column in a newspaper for an occasion or two. And if you do write under those conditions, you will need no influence: for it is just such writing the world wants; and the editors and publishers will be forced to read you, whether they are inclined to or not.

Christopher Columbus found his continent because he was so determined, so persistent, so certain that unknown lands awaited him.

It made no difference who told him that all the earth had been discovered, and that he would never be able to succeed in his wild venture. His purpose was too strong to be influenced by the doubts of others.

It has always seemed to me that God would have made a continent to reward such a search, had it not already existed.

Unless you set forth on the sea of literature, with the spirit of a Columbus in your soul, you may as well give up the idea of finding the Port of Glory. If you do set forth with that spirit, you need ask no mortal influence.

God is the only influence genius needs.

Perseverance the only method.

To find the way to success alone, is the test of talent.

Some influential author might give you the entreé once to a magazine. But editors and publishers are men of purely business instincts, and they will not accept work on the recommendation of any third party, which they think their public will not like. Their constant effort is to find what that public does like, and the unknown author has an equal advantage with the genius, if he sends such material.

An author once told me that he "trapped" twenty manuscripts and sent them out to editors, and all came back unread, as his "trap" proved.

Since he sent them forth with such doubts in his mind, it is no wonder his trap succeeded and his manuscripts failed.

No great literary fire of purpose could be in the mind of a man who spent thought and time on such a plot to trick an editor. And because there was no great flame, the inanimate manuscripts were returned unread. For even a package of paper sends out its "aura," and invites or repels attention.

If you are discouraged by the people who tell you that "everything has been written," and that you can only be a faint echo of greater souls, then you do not deserve success. I have no doubt the croakers of that day told Shakespeare the same.

It seems that Shakespeare did take many old themes and other people's plots and ideas to re-create in his own way. And what a way! Surely he who best uses an idea is most entitled to the credit.

There is nothing new under the sun, but there is always the new audience. For the majestic old poem of Spring, bound over in new covers of green, God creates fresh, eager young eyes and hearts each year. And not yet has he said to the year, "Do not attempt another spring--there have been so many before, you can but repeat their beauties." Then why should any mortal say to the poet or the author, "Do not try to write--it has all been said before."

Proceed, my young friend, and write what is in your heart. Nothing quite the same was ever in any heart before, and yet the greater part of it has been in all hearts, and will be in all hearts, so long as the world lasts.

Remember that when you write from the heart, it will go to the hearts of your readers: and when you write from your head it will go no lower than the head.

And if the critics score or ridicule you, consider yourself on the path to success.

If you have a message for the world, nothing and nobody can prevent you from delivering it.

He only fails who has nothing to say.

To Mrs. McAllister

Concerning Her Little Girl

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