Successful people talk a big game when it comes to failure.

It can teach perseverance, spur creativity and shine a light on what people are truly passionate about.

But for on-stage performers like Ali Wong, failure can be a lot more public — and devastating. But the comedian says learning to like bombing, and doing it a lot, is one of the most important things in order to be successful in the business.

Her new book, "Dear Girls," is a humorous and intimate letter to her two young daughters about growing up, getting married, starting a family and growing her career. In the memoir, Wong shares the successes and setbacks that have shaped her journey from stand-up comedian to TV actor to writer, producer and star of her own Netflix hit movie "Always Be My Maybe."

But before she was making out with the likes of Keanu Reeves, Daniel Dae Kim and Randall Park (in the film, that is), she was weathering the ups and downs of open mic nights in San Francisco.

She shares in her book that one of the first places she performed was at the Brainwash Cafe on Folsom Street in San Francisco. At the part-coffee shop, part-laundromat, "I would go up every single night at a different mic and try a million new jokes," Wong writes. "I mostly bombed. It's the only way to get good."

Years later, after she was introduced to the masses through her Netflix stand-up specials "Baby Cobra" and "Hard Knock Wife," she got the chance to perform in front of the person who inspired her to get into comedy in the first place.

"Right when I got up on stage, I noticed a man with huge black sunglasses sitting to my right, with his hood on, holding hands with a beautiful young blond model," she writes. "It was Eddie Murphy. My number one comedy idol."

At the time, she was pregnant with her second daughter, Nikki, and was doing a last-minute pop-up show opening for Dave Chappelle. While she had intended to practice new material during the set, the star-struck comedian instead delivered 10 minutes of her best routine, but it was ultimately met with complete silence.

"I knew Eddie Murphy specifically wasn't laughing, because everyone knows when Eddie Murphy is or isn't laughing," Wong continues. "You could recognize his signature 'HANH-HANH-HANH' goose honk anywhere. And that night, there were no geese."

While that particular night was cringe-worthy for Wong, she says that type of failure is necessary to get better, especially in the comedy scene. Someone interested in performing needs room to experiment, to find their voice, to offer an interesting point of view, and most importantly, to suck.