posted
OSC has said that in order to succeed as a writer you have to simultaneously believe that you are the best writer in the world and the worst. If you only believe the first you will never accept feedback and never improve, if you only believe the second you will never actually write.
Personally, I ride the two extremes like a roller coaster, though I never get quite as high as believing I'm the *best* or quite as low as believing I'm the *worst*. I tend to go through phases in which I believe I'm really good and ready to be published any time now. Inevitably, these phases are followed by a crash and burn. Sometimes I think my stories are no good, or my characters are terrible. Right now I've convinced myself that my style is terrible and I don't know how to string two words together. The form is immaterial, however, the result is important. Rather than simultaneously believing the two extremes, I flip from one to another in successive waves.
So how can we give ourselves that boost of confidence when we need it? How can we keept from becomming overinflated on the flipside? And how can we have a reaslitic enough impression of our own writing that we can both take feedback and not give up?
posted
My own experience is that the difference between believing I've written the most amazing prose ever and seeing that, o boy! it needs serious work, is about a month.
If I still believe in the theme of the essay or the point of the poem, then I'll still have a healthy ego about the thing, even when I'm drastically changing all the stupid stuff I wrote in the first rush of inspiration.
It's different for everybody.
Except maybe for Harlan Ellison, who strikes me as a guy whose never had a second thought about ANYthing he's written. [cheap shot/rim shot - take yer pick]
posted
I think I’ve got the simultaneous thing down pat. Even when I’m sure I written something with some merit, something that feels like it’s working and alive, I’ll start picking it to shreds because I start thinking it’s the stupidest, most illogical, boring piece of prose on earth. Very much a love/hate relationship. While such a split mindset does work for the reasons OSC suggests, it is not a comfortable place to be sometimes.
Having a tendency to be highly critical anyway, there does seem to be a few things that help me strengthen the "Yes, it does not completely suck" side of the equation. One is to have one wise reader that is a friend that will shoot straight if you’re completely off the mark (So it’s not just a mercy read), but mostly likes your stuff, so you do get positive feedback a lot. Sometimes we need the red pen of death, other times we need some encouragement. Also, sometimes it really helps to go back and look at work that has cooled down. Both the good points, which may have started to get fuzzy, and the bad points, which sometimes feel like they are multiplying like bugs in July, even it they really aren’t, are a lot clearer than right after that last edit.
And if you need a pop to the "Yes, maybe I could still improve some here" side of the equation, those of-so-lovely rejection letters tend to be a great reminder. (Sigh… somehow sending things off to be rejected was a lot more fun those first few times… )
You know something, I hate writing. I love figuring out stories, but I hate, hate, hate writing and if it weren't so important to me I would stop and just do something easy like programming.
posted
When I write my rough draft, I allow myself to breathe the story, to believe that I am, indeed, the finest writer ever to grace a keyboard.
It's when I'm editing that I realize that I suck, and I try to fix everything the best that I can. Sometimes entire sections, or even chapters, need rewrites, but once I move on, I leave the work alone, knowing that I will never reach perfection. I am just hoping for "good enough" by this point. I move on, believing that the next thing I write is the greatest.
posted
The only way is to keep writing. Ignore the feeling and push on. It hurts, sure, but think of it like a nictotine addiction. You have to suffer to break free.
Posts: 697 | Registered: Mar 2003
|
posted
I think for me one of the most important things is knowing I am my own wrst critic. Therefore I can simultaneously believe my writing sucks and that it is good enough to be published, because I consciously know I am looking for perfection, which may not exist, and certainly isn't necessary.
I do rewrite every chapter after the second draft (for the whole book) is done. First draft on paper, second draft on computer, complete rewrite during my stronger moments. Then on my rewrite I know what elements were missing because everything is pieced together properly. Of course I make as many typos rewriting as I did the first time, but the quality seems good despite the bugbears.
posted
I keep it simple--I hate everything I write.
I know when it is working, but I still hate every word of it. Sure I get in the flow--pretty easy, but even then I look at my work and wonder what anyone sees in it.
posted
Whether you think you're the best or the worst writer in the world, you're entertaining a delusion. I know I've posted this before, but it says so much: "Criticism and dissent are the indispensible antidote to major delusions." (Alan Barth) A writer who avoids critiques will never be able to dispel his delusions.
[This message has been edited by Kolona (edited January 27, 2004).]
quote:So how can we give ourselves that boost of confidence when we need it?
Keep a couple of poorly written stories on hand to remind you that (1) crap does indeed get published and (2) with a little hard work you can write better than those chumps.
quote:How can we keept from becomming overinflated on the flipside?
Keep of couple of masterpieces on hand to (1) slap you down to size when you need it and (2) to inspire you stive to reach there level. Dan Simmons once said that too many aspiring writers say, "I can write better than that crap," but that "better than that crap" is still crap. Thus, Simmons exhorts, the writer needs to ask a different question, "Who can I never surpass," and then type your fingers off trying to get there.
quote:And how can we have a reaslitic enough impression of our own writing that we can both take feedback and not give up?
Become humble. True humility is not walking around thinking you're worthless. True humility is recognizing and accepting your limits as well as recognizing and accepting your potentials. By accepting your limits, you can take feedback, and by accepting your potentials, you have what it takes to forge ahead.
Hope this helps.
[This message has been edited by Balthasar (edited January 28, 2004).]
I'm feeling better this morning. I got a little positive feedback on a story, and after much self scathing I have determined how to make my writing sound a little better. But then, I suppose that's what the periods of self doubt are for, to come out of them stronger, equipped with information that helps us improve.
So maybe I'm not doing so bad after all, I just wish these periods of doubt wouldn't be so all consuming when they come.
posted
One thing you may want to remind yourself on occasion:
If you are learning and growing at all as a writer, there will be times when you absolutely hate what you've written. That does not necessarily mean you've written drek. If you've been growing and learning, it means that you've learned how to see problems more quickly than you've learned how to avoid them.
If you tell yourself that your writing ability will eventually catch up with your critical ability, as long as you keep plugging away, you'll be able to make it through to a point where you don't hate what you write any more. (Notice I didn't promise that you'd love it. In fact, I'd tend to encourage you to be suspicious when you think you love something you've written.)
Anyway, as long as you keep at it, and you're learning and growing, you can tell yourself, "this, too, shall pass." And maybe it won't be so discouraging.
Printer-friendly view of this topic
