Affirm me!
There are essentially two types of creatives. (I am stereotyping and making a blanket statement here..but hey, there’s a reason people do that. It’s simpler.) There are those who believe every idea they have is straw spun into gold. If you unrolled all the hubris coiled up inside them it would stretch around the globe three times and be visible from space. But we’re not talking about them. Cuz I am not them. Most writers I know, unpublished, published, NYT bestseller published, don’t fall into that category.
Most writers I know (and me) have skin made of paper. We’re nervous, quivering masses of insecurity wandering around the Coolest Club Ever (writers!) wondering how in the world we got let in, and wondering when someone is going to realize we’re there and throw us out.
It’s so easy for those of us with true, genuine insecurities to stand along side the highway of the interwebs holding a cardboard sign that says: AFFIRM ME.
And then we get it! An editor asks for a full MS, you get The Call, your debut comes out and you get your Very First Review and it IS AWESOME!!! You start to feel like you’re covered in glitter and light. You become Sally Field.
It’s addicting. The temptation to seek out more of that affirmation is intoxicating. You do things like google your own name. All the time. (*cough* not that I do, I’ve just heard that…you know, some people do that.)
I think, deep down, the insecure writer thinks “I shall store all this up! All these compliments. I will eat them like a bear readying for hibernation and grow a layer of security fat that nothing will penetrate!!’
The problem with that lies in basic author math. (It’s math, which means you can’t argue with it or make creative answers. At least that’s how all my math teachers told it when they graded my papers)
It doesn’t matter how many nice things you’ve heard, how thick the blubber of ‘I am awesome’ has layered on, one well placed YOU SUCK can pop you like the overinflated balloon you are. A rejection, a bad review, a letter from a reader telling you that you’re a sexist.
And then there you are, deflated. Down. Certain that everything you write sucks. And this, mind you, can be the progression of one day!!
So I ask: Why do we do that? Seriously, why? There is value in the proper type of criticism, particularly when it comes from agents and editors. Criticism that can be used, applied, should be taken, and taken in the spirit it was intended.
But sometimes setbacks deserve nothing more than to be ignored. I’ve come to the conclusion that all I can do is write THE best book I can every single time. A book I love, a book my editor loves. I can’t make it perfect for everyone. And there is no comment on earth that should change my feelings for the product I’ve produced. Not so I can fill up on hubris, but so I can continue working and writing without doubt crows looming overhead.
The same goes for you. All of you! Why give the power of how WE feel about ourselves, our work, over to someone else? This isn’t a call for everyone to grow bigger egos, so don’t mistake me. But I think it’s a shame to put so much stock in the opinions of strangers. To allow a rejection, a bad review, to make us look at something we worked hard on, were proud of, as something less than it was.
That doesn’t mean believing every word written is diamonds and gold coming from the tips of our fingers either. But why should you have to feel like an impostor? Why should you have to feel good about what you do and your skills one minute, and convinced you’re horrible the next? Show me a doctor, or barista who feels that way through out the workday.
I was a barista for quite a few years, and sometimes I made crappy drinks (not on purpose) and sometimes I got orders wrong and had to remake the drinks. But I was confident that I knew my job and that I was good at it, even if there were hiccups. Why can’t I have that in this part of my life?
On a good day, the way I try to look at it is this: I do the very best I can every time. Maybe I could do better now, maybe I would do it different now, but that doesn’t make what I did was bad.
We have to be able to find pride in our work on our own terms, and not give that ability over to someone else. Not ask for permission to feel happy with what we’ve done. Giving the power to others is like opting to live on a roller coaster. And living on a roller coaster can cripple your work. That’s so NOT OKAY.
This is all easier said than done. I don’t blog about it because I’m so good at it, but because I struggle with it. Because I’m guilty of letting outside feedback, good and bad, mean too much to me. Of letting it affect how I feel about myself and about a book.
This really makes me want to look in a mirror and say: I’m good enough, I’m smart enough, and gosh darn it, people like me.
Comments
11 Responses | TrackBack URL | Comments Feed
I wonder if we can ever let go of that basic author math you so perfectly explained. Because truth is, like gladiators of yore, we live or die (publish or perish) by the thumb. So OF COURSE we’re going to take it seriously and personally when we get the thumbs down.
And don’t you find it’s the NOs that make you work harder, try something new, advance? Maybe that’s why we instinctively pay more attention to the no (even when we shouldn’t) because deep down we know a useful no shows us how to BE better, even if the yes FEELS better.
Or… eff it. Purple sparklies, unicorn & unidentified sloshing beverage FTW! I’ll be behind you, riding Eeyore!
I LOVE this post!! Many moons ago I used to be a librarian and when people told me I was a good librarian I used think ‘yeah, I am’. But I do not feel the same about writing. When people say ‘hey, you’re a good writer’, I think ‘I’m not really’.
And for the life of me, I don’t know why I think that. Because this is my job, just like being a librarian was. Okay, it’s more of a volunteer work thing at present cos I do not have that ultimate affirmation of a publisher, but still, I work really hard at it. So, why do I not accept that I can do this? That people like what I write in the same way people liked my service as a librarian?
Creativity. It’s a mystery.
BTW, I want to be Sally Field. 🙂
Jessa, I’m useful criticism’s biggest fan. I wave a poster of it hanging over my bed. But there’s so much blah that’s…blah. Extra criticism we can’t use, or things (like a rejection) that we can let stew for too long. I do think the will and tenacity to push harder, better, stronger is essential. 🙂 In that spirit…into the purple sparklies with me!
Jackie, it is funny. Being confident in your skills as a librarian didn’t make you egotistical, it didn’t seem wrong to feel good about your work for the day…why is it so hard with this? I think it’s a common struggle, but it’s one I hope to get a handle on. And I’ll say it: you are a good writer.
Who doesn’t want to be Sally Field? 😉
LOL!!! I love your pictures especially the unicorn at the end. I also enjoyed misreading some of the sentences so that I initially thought the barista version of you made crappy drinks ON purpose 😉 LOL! Hey, some customers are just asking for it.
It is so hard not to give into the doubts, but I fight. I don’t want to be one of those writers who can never believe a compliment, who needs constant reassurance. And it is constant if that little negative whisper gains a foothold. Then no amount of praise is sufficient to drown out the fear that I might not – not ever – be good enough. The only way I’ve ever found to fight back is to believe in the story I’m writing and make it the very best that I can.
Lacey, SpitDrinks are a whole ‘nother story. And yeah, some people deserve them. O_O
Julia, you summed it up perfectly. The inability to take compliments and the fact that it’s SO easy to believe everything bad, and so hard to believe ANYTHING good. But that’s just…it’s pointless. And it’s wrong. Because of course we do good things! And just like you said, believe in your work and do the best you can.
So true! I’m not published, but I can relate to the self doubt. I think maybe sometimes it’s easier to slip into doubt with our writing b/c we think our writing IS us when really it is just a part of us. It’s still so personal in a way that most jobs are not. I always have to remind myself my writing is FROM me. It isn’t literally me and if it’s rejected, dissed, whatever, that piece of writing has been rejected. Not me.
I don’t remember the exact quote (I love quotes), but Natalie Goldberg said something along the lines of “Remember, you are not deserving of love b/c you are a writer. You are deserving of love b/c you are a human being on this earth.”
Excellent Blog post and spot on.
Jill, that’s very insightful and true. It comes from us, and yes, it can feel personal because, really like actors, we have to start to let the characters inhabit us so we can feel the emotion and bring it to the page. We work hard at it, but at the end of the day, if someone doesn’t like it, it doesn’t mean they don’t like us.
Alexandra, thank you! Am a marshmallow so this is one I have to remind myself of a lot.
It’s funny…I was watching Big Bang Theory ( like I do) and there was this line: There are many studies that suggest that people who go into the performing arts suffer from an external locus of identity.” Translation: they seek approval from others about themselves, and they see themselves as others see them. I think writers might do that too…*skulks off*
Well said! I think I might be both of those writers of whom you speak. One day, everything I write is spun gold, the next, utter crapola. Now that I think about it, that may have something to do with feedback…but in this stage of my career (can I call it that, yet?) I am learning which critiques to heed, which to ignore and also, I am learning that punctuation confuses me. I thought I knew how to use a comma…now, not so much.
Excellent post, Maisey! I really need to illustrate my blog. Why aren’t I doing that?!?!