Steven LaChance Blog

You know, I’ve come to realize something about life—I fail almost every single day. And I don’t mean in some grand, existential way (though, sure, maybe that too). I mean the little, everyday stumbles that remind me I’m gloriously human. Like forgetting my keys on the counter, accidentally using salt instead of sugar, or misplacing my wallet for the hundredth time. And don’t even get me started on my coffee—always black, always the same, because at least that I can get right. But here’s the thing: in between those daily flops, there’s a spark of success, a moment when something just clicks.

It’s that rare, exhilarating moment when creativity aligns with the universe, and suddenly, what I’ve written connects with someone else. If you’ve ever had that feeling, you know exactly what I mean. It’s like catching lightning in a bottle—pure magic. Some people chase that feeling their whole lives and never quite grasp it. Me? I’ve been lucky enough to experience it a few times. But the funny thing is, I still have no idea how to make it happen on purpose. It just shows up, unannounced, like a cat that only wants attention when it suits them.

And then, just as quickly as that creative high comes, I’m back to failing again. That’s the reality of this whole thing. For every piece that resonates, there are a dozen more that don’t. I’ve written entire books no one will ever read—manuscripts tucked away in digital archives, proof that I tried and didn’t quite make the cut. And you know what? That’s okay. Those so-called failures matter because they’re part of the journey, each one bringing me a little closer to the next moment of brilliance.

Now, if you think rejection is always a bitter pill, here’s a little secret: my agent and manager is my husband. While the industry might send a “thanks, but no thanks,” he’s always there as the ultimate cheerleader. Instead of delivering harsh rejections, he turns every setback into just another quirky chapter in our shared creative saga—often accompanied by a comforting cup of black coffee.

That’s the beauty of creativity. Just when you think you’re stuck in a loop of endless setbacks, something shifts. The words flow. The ideas click. You create something that feels right. In that moment, every failure before it suddenly seems worth it.

Of course, soon enough, I’ll be back to tripping over my own words or losing my wallet again. But that’s just part of the ride, isn’t it?

So here’s to failure—to the flops, the rejections, the messy drafts, and the forgotten keys. Every misstep is just another step toward something great. Keep trying, keep failing, and watch how those little moments of brilliance add up. Trust me, you’ll thank yourself later—preferably with a solid cup of black coffee in hand.