A very dear writer friend has recently encouraged me, "You should write an article for The New Yorker." This friend is intelligent, highly educated, and knows me well -- and has been in the publishing game for years.

So why is he giving me such bad advice?

Let me answer that by telling another anecdote.

I was giving a talk at a writing conference when someone asked me, "Why do all my friends and family love my work and can't wait to read it and share it, but I can't even get a 'no thanks' from an agent or publisher?" Before I could answer, someone in the audience piped up, "Because your friends and family love you."

If you have family and friends who are supportive of you and your writing (especially by giving you the time or the financial support to pursue it), it's a gift. But it can also be a strange hindrance. A valuable skill/attitude for writers is learning how to see publishing as a business -- even when the most personal part of you is on the line. And that personal part often includes dreams of where you'd ultimately like to be published one day. It's good to have dreams, to aim high, at least in your personal life.

When approaching the writing life as business, though, a little pragmatism is helpful.

I'm currently editing Get Known Before the Book Deal by Christina Katz (to release this fall). She has excellent advice for writers looking to land their first book deal, and one of the overarching philosophies in this book, as well as in her first book (Writer Mama), is that a writing career is a journey, not an overnight success. (Jerry B. Jenkins is another author who tells a wonderful story of his "overnight success" with the Left Behind series; it was an overnight success after he spent 20 years writing and publishing. See his book Writing for the Soul.)

Successful writers usually end up that way because they take small steps toward their goals. Christina advises writers to aim for local or regional publications first, then try for the national ones. Otherwise, you risk aiming too high, receiving only rejections, then closing up shop when you don't feel the love.

If I tried to get published in The New Yorker (and never tried another publication), I know what would happen. I would never get published again. Of course, my friend was not advising I do that exactly. But many writers who do hear encouragement like this think they've failed when they've only taken the right steps in the wrong order.