You're gonna fuck up.
Not just once, but tons and tons and freaking tons of times, regardless of what you're trying to get good at. Most manuals do acknowledge that, in a manner of speaking. They talk a big game about "paying your dues" and "embracing failure and/or rejection as a learning process," which are both terms that make me want to empty the contents of my stomach in the approximate vicinity of whoever utters them.
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Which can be seen as a punishment or a reward, depending on your views on slightly used Scotch.
When you've actually fallen on your ass, fancy words mean jack shit. You don't need to love or embrace or even like failure. There's a reason it feels bad. It's because your own fight-or-flight attitude is trying to tell you to either get better at that shit or give up altogether. As such, there are only two things you can and must do in the face of failure: learn from it, and don't let it stop you. How do you do this? By getting up and doing that shit again, instead of spending the rest of your life whining and complaining. This may seem like the most obvious thing in the world right now, but when you're actually in the clutches of defeat, chances are it'll not even occur to you at first. At that point, it's vitally important to at least realize the existence of continuing as a possibility. Otherwise, it's so, so damn easy to come up with an excuse to give up.
An example: I was in a judo class when I was maybe 8 or so. It was a pretty neat hobby; I genuinely liked learning all the throws and grabs and how to tie that goddamn pajama belt so that its ends don't look like fabric boners. I was making good progress and was certain that I would wind up one of those black-belt judo ninjas (I was 8, remember) in no time. One evening I was sparring with a much bigger kid and he threw me around like a rag doll. Have you ever received a wedgie while involuntarily somersaulting in mid-air? It's a life experience, although one I wouldn't necessarily recommend.
I never went back after that night. I just flat-fucking-out turned my back on a thing that I loved because it didn't even occur to me that I could handle the shame of that failure. I didn't even tell my parents, who kept paying for the lessons for quite a while before they found out that I'd just pissed off to hang around with my friends or whatever when they thought I was training. This, of course, led to another failure (to get pocket money for several weeks). Did I make a mistake? Hell yes I did -- I could be a judo ninja right now if I had sucked up that one defeat.
"Nice going, asshole."