Bruce Balan appeared on the children's book scene in 1988 when Green Tiger Press published his picture book The Cherry Migration and made it the theme of its booth at the ABA (now the BEA) convention. Over the next ten years he published four picture books with Simon & Schuster, Random House, Viking, and ABC (London); six middle-grade novels in the Cyber.kdz series with Avalon Camelot; and a crossover book with Delacorte. He sold a novel to Bantam Doubleday Dell on the strength of a 40-page sample, and when his literary agent at the William Morris Agency left the business, he immediately got another agent who sold a picture book manuscript to Simon & Schuster. In Balan's own words, "I thought I had it made."

One year later, his editor had left Bantam Doubleday Dell, his new editor had rejected his novel, Simon & Schuster had canceled his picture book, he had fired his agent and couldn't find another to represent him, and none of his books were in print. "It was awful, awful, awful," Balan says. Here, he talks about "hard times" and how a writer can survive them.

Anna Olswanger: What do you think caused your "hard times?"

Bruce Balan: In 1999, with two books in production, I decided to fulfill a dream and move onto my sailboat. That meant I was out of the loop on what was happening with my books while I was sailing around Mexico for the greater part of two years. I relied on my agent to keep selling my manuscripts, but he dropped the ball.

What else? Bad luck. HarperCollins purchased Avon Camelot and that took the breath out of my already dying Cyber.kdz series. Delacorte went all out to market my crossover book, but it didnšt catch on with readers. Simon & Schuster trimmed its list and decided to cut my picture book because it was waiting for illustrations. My editor left Delacorte and I didn't click with the new one assigned to me. I was late delivering a manuscript to Random House. And finally, I must have been out of step with what editors were looking for because I had eight completed manuscripts that I couldn't sell.

Olswanger: What was your immediate reaction?

Balan: I was reeling! I felt as though everything I had done for the last 14 years was wasted. My self-image crashed big time.

Olswanger: Did you make a game plan at that point?

Balan: Yes. I started making calls and writing letters to round up flat-fee work. I decided I wouldn't turn down anything. I wasn't fond of the flat-fee work I produced, but it was important to me to get paid for my writing. Since I had fired my agent, I started sending my manuscripts out on my own.

Olswanger: Did the game plan work?

Balan: If you mean, am I able to support myself writing now, the answer is no. If you mean, does my game plan keep me moving forward and stop me from giving up, the answer is yes.

Olswanger: So you're still going through hard times?

Balan: I sold two books in the last year—one to Dial and one flat-fee to a Canadian educational publisher—but I still haven't found a new agent. Emotionally though, I'm surviving the hard times because I have faith that it will all work out in the end. The vagaries of our business require faith. Looking at what sells, what's popular, what the media covers, then comparing that to what I consider my best work would send me over the edge if it weren't for a deep sense that I'm supposed to be on this path and my writing has a purpose.

Olswanger: What have you learned from having gone through your hard times?

Balan: I thought that after achieving a certain degree of success, I was done with the struggling and the emotional turmoil it entails (rejections, doubt, more rejections, jealousy, more rejections). Surprise! I learned to be careful when choosing an agent. I learned that if you make the conscious decision to ignore the market and write what is in your heart, you need to be willing to reap what you sow. Like it or not, we are a market-driven business.

Olswanger: So were your early expectations about success unrealistic?

Balan: You don't hear speakers or read articles that say "I struggled for 15 years and still haven't published anything," or " I published 12 books and they all went out of print and I couldnšt sell another thing." The articles talk about the first book that hit the bestseller list, or the writer who published slow and steady for 25 years and is now getting the recognition she deserves. In some ways it's good to hear these stories because they give us the hope we need to keep going. But they also give us a false sense of the level of success in the business, which makes it easy to feel wešve failed when, in fact, we've done pretty well.

Olswanger: How do you keep from feeling that you've failed?

Balan: I have railed against the stupidity of marketing departments, the ignorance of publishers, the injustice of rejections. I've wallowed in self-pity over the inane rejections of editors. All this while, I have a "second" job that pays the bills, food in my stomach, health, freedom, family and friends. I'm not saying we shouldn't strive for our goals and dreams with all our hearts. I'm not saying that we should be satisfied with what we have and not try to create something amazing with our writing. I'm saying that, when things don't go well, it's ridiculous to downplay what is wonderful in our lives. Forgetting to be grateful for our good fortune—that we can live decently and prosperously and relatively fearlessly—because we aren't selling enough books, is unconscionable.

Olswanger: How do you define success now?

Balan: Success is defined by the society we live in as financial reward and fame. Because of this, it's easy to forget that worth can be tied to something other than the judgment of others—especially when "others" means the vague, unknowable market for our books. There is honor in doing a good job, in penning a fine sentence, in creating a beautiful poem. Writing is not easy work and requires dedication and tenacity and pride in our skill. But, since the reason we write is to communicate, it's difficult to give ourselves credit if our work isn't published and, therefore, not communicated to others. It's good for me to remember that the giving of my time to a task I believe in is honorable.

Olswanger: What is your advice now to others who are going through hard times?

Balan: Don't forget that every day we make choices about what matters to us. Our focus and attitude can shift so quickly that we forget that we own our lives. One day I'm down because of a rejection letter from an agent. The next day, I'm enfolded by the glorious beauty of the ocean. These emotions don't just happen to me. I have a say. I am the one who chooses to crumple the rejection letter from the agent and I am the one who chooses to turn my head toward the sea. My advice to others is to find the worth in all your efforts.

Olswanger: So have you learned not to judge yourself?

Balan: Viktor Frankl wrote in Man's Search for Meaning: "Everything can be taken away from a man but one thing: the last of the human freedoms—to choose one's attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one's own way." I'm learning to choose my own way.

Text copyright © 2003-2004 Anna Olswanger and Bruce Balan. Visit Harold Underdown's The Purple Crayon for other interviews by Anna Olswanger.