The Importance of Resilience (in the Poetry Game and in Life)

Sylvia poses with one of Jenny Diski’s books

Addendum: Thanks to Rattle for featuring my poem, “Self-Portrait as Escape Artist,” today. It seems to go with the post!

You might have seen a few articles around lately on the benefits of “resilience” which at best, seems like a boring sort of virtue, and at worst, just sounds like you become an object that gets beaten up a lot.

I may be thinking of this because I’m lying in bed after a bad virus, bad weather, and a series of dental and doctor appointments have made the last couple of months an exercise in resilience. A lot of my specialists have commented on my positive attitude and resilience in the amount of recovery I’ve made since my July attack of neural lesions from MS (although my comment is usually, “what is the alternative?”) I do not want to be defined by my illness(es,) or my age, or my disability, although all these things may play a part in my life, sometimes more than I’d like. But people I know who have been through worse and come through seemingly undamaged always display that virtue – resilience.

Lately I’ve observed some things that made me think of the importance of resilience in the poetry “game.” One friend got good news that a poem from her 2005 book – she has never published another book of poetry because she said the effort was too much and she was too busy and had switched to non-fiction – was going to be on NPR. Which was great news – and shows how odd the promotion of poetry is, and how sometimes as Emily D. said, “Victory comes late.” If a poet gets a lot of sales, or prizes, or gets on NPR or the Poetry web site or the PSA with a poem or whatever right out of the gate – she’s probably more likely to give the next book a go. I was talking to another friend who was also sort of discouraged – or not so much discouraged, but not encouraged enough – by not great numbers on his first book, and this guy’s a really good poet and I encouraged him to send out another book.   But it’s more rational for poets to be discouraged than not. These two friends are being 100 percent rational. They are spending time doing things that are more rewarding to them, and that is not a bad thing.

I’m now sending out a sixth (!!) manuscript. Am I insane? Because, does the world really need another book from me? Are they clamoring for more of my previous books? I mean, some of my books sold respectably, and some poorly. I got lucky with the first one, Becoming the Villainess, I think, that it struck a chord with enough people and it got taught, which I am very grateful for. The last two books (The Robot Scientist’s Daughter and Field Guide to the End of the World) had better distribution and therefore, I think, not unrelatedly, better sales. Also both books had sales from a very supportive, close-knit sci-fi-speculative poetry community (which I am also grateful for.) But I was telling my friend I’ve kind of followed the same promotion patterns with every book, with vastly different results. And I still haven’t got job offers or prizes or grants all over the place or anything. Why do I keep going?

You might have seen a few articles around lately on the benefits of “resilience” which at best, seems like a boring sort of virtue, and at worst, just sounds like you become an object that gets beaten up a lot.

I may be thinking of this because I’m lying in bed after a bad virus, bad weather, and a series of dental and doctor appointments have made the last couple of months an exercise in resilience. A lot of my specialists have commented on my positive attitude and resilience in the amount of recovery I’ve made since my July attack of neural lesions from MS (although my comment is usually, “what is the alternative?”) I do not want to be defined by my illness(es,) or my age, or my disability, although all these things may play a part in my life, sometimes more than I’d like. But people I know who have been through worse and come through seemingly undamaged always display that virtue – resilience.

Some people are so traumatized by a rejection – in a job interview, date, or, yes, a poetry rejection – that they turn away from a thing altogether. This can kill your career, your love life, or your poetry publishing – because one of the most important things to learn to is to weather these hard times. Yes, you’ll have terrible interviews where you’ll forget everything you know, or you think you did a great job at an interview but you don’t get the offer. We have all had our hearts broken when we extended ourselves to someone we loved who either didn’t love us at all or didn’t love us well. And in the life of a poet, there are bound to be at least a few rejection slips – or these days, rejection e-mails – that will pile up over your lifetime.

How does anyone build resilience in the face of rejection? In the face of what can feel like failure? Part of it is having the courage to go and put yourself out there again – either for the job, the loved one, or the prized publisher or journal – and try again. And again. So, experience. But experience just makes some bitter or angry, frustrated or again, to avoid the pain they just quit. What makes the difference between someone who thrives through terrible circumstances and those who do not?

There are several things the experts say help children, for instance, develop resilience after traumatic events. They include old clichés,  like trying to find silver linings, finding something to learn from the negative experience, or finding a way to help others in similar circumstances. Community is mentioned. Another talks about finding humor in your situation. I’m reading a book, In Gratitude, by Jenny Diski, kind of a poster child for resilience. She was abused by both parents, sent to foster homes and institutions, then taken in by prickly 60s literary star Doris Lessing, and managed to make a literary name for herself outside of that shadow. This particular book follows her journey after being diagnosed with terminal cancer in her late sixties. Her first instinct after her diagnosis is to make a joke about “Breaking Bad,” which her doctors fail to laugh at. But humor is a very strategic response to stress. When I received my own terminal cancer diagnosis (which, now, the terminal part has been postponed indefinitely given every six-month scans of my liver) I delved into episodes of comedies – Mystery Science 3000, 30 Rock, Community, Futurama. Humor makes pain lessen – it’s scientifically proven! And there’s a famous quote “Life is a comedy for those who think, and a tragedy for those who feel.” Which seems like it might be true, or at least, we empathetic types have to shut down our empathy sometimes because feelings can overwhelm us in a negative way. I’ve had to avoid Facebook sometimes and the news, um, pretty much since the Trump election. I’m convinced those are bad for my health, both mental and physical. Facebook can feel like a place of such negativity, and I prefer to talk about poets I love and support. I admit I like a kitten picture and some good news – and of course I want to help support those I know are sick, or who have lost a loved one. But social media can be as beneficial as you let it be.

So positive things we can do to increase our resilience in the face of bad news: nature, humor, a supportive community of some sort, a willingness to look for the positive or the learning experience in a situation. I think also a certain love of risk-taking – that’s something Jenny Diski kind of encapsulates over and over in her writing and her life. (PS Her book of short fairy-tale-esque stories, The Vanishing Princess, are like what I would write if I wrote short stories, except with way more bodily functions and sex.) Am I much of a risk-taker? I think maybe I felt more adventurous when I was younger and more confident. But one good thing about getting older is letting yourself do things you might not have thought about when you were younger. I am thinking that to survive a scary diagnosis like cancer or MS – or the poetry world – you need to not be afraid to confront the difficult truths, but not let them overwhelm you. To try things even though you may (or probably will) fail, maybe repeatedly. This may boil down to: how to keep hope alive in a dark world. Please leave your thoughts on how to keep up resilience – and hope. I don’t have my formula 100 percent down yet!