In response to a social media post regarding my new book cover for Forever Blackbirds, a viewer remarked that while the cover made her smile, the book sounded too sad. I immediately defended the book by saying something too easy like, “The story is sad—but it’s also brave and redemptive. Don’t give up on it.” Her comment is what drove me to write about discouragement.
Curiosity killed the author
Many of my writer friends advised me to never read reviews and not respond to these kinds of comments. I couldn’t help myself; I read anyway. Fortunately, most of the reviews are positive. However, I couldn’t help but take the less-than-positive ones personally. What flooded my brain were all the if you only knews—meaning: Does this reviewer know what it takes to write a novel? Plus the gargantuan task of putting it out into the world? Add the fact that many writers like me might consider themselves “too old” to write or publish at this time in life. You begin to get the picture.
I recall coming to a similar unmarked door when my book, About the Carleton Sisters, was accepted for publication by She Writes Press. I felt that soul-wrenching, wake-in-the-middle-of-the-night doubt . . . “What if people don’t like it?” At some point, I had to come to terms with the fact that some people wouldn’t like the book—and that some people would love it. Indeed, that’s what happened. Except you usually don’t hear from the people who don’t like it. They give it away or donate it to Goodwill if they can’t sell it back. They become part of a faceless crowd you will never meet or know.
Good shots, bad shots
This business of being “good enough” made me think of Tiger Woods. When I was learning to play golf—because that’s what my then partner did some fifteen years ago—I would grip the club so tight that my wrist would turn black and blue, especially if we were in some kind of “fun” tournament (well, fun for some, agony for me). My partner and our friends were constantly watching Tiger Woods, mostly before and after he fell off the pavement and tried to crawl back on. What Tiger taught me was that it’s all about good shots and bad shots. You take the bad with the good. I began to relax. I began to play only with other women. I stopped keeping score. I noticed the trees and the birds and how beautiful the greens were. I enjoyed chatting with my golf partner. I cared about nothing but that day’s experience.
The same lesson applies to writing. You give it your best shot. You work hard to learn your craft, whether it’s like golf–a proper stance and golf swing–or, in writing, how to create a strong sentence and claim the voice of your story. You do it! And you keep going. For me, I’ll never stop playing golf until I can’t. The same rule applies to writing. The more you play, the better you get. Hopefully.
Keeping at it
I know so many writers who never finish their projects. Some never get started. Others stop and stall. It becomes a “woulda, coulda, shoulda.”
Recently, I had the good fortune of attending a Powell’s reading in Portland, Oregon. Anne Lamott, a favorite writer of mine for years (who also maintains an easy touch regarding the writing process), had come with her husband, Neal Allen, to promote his book, Better Days: Tame Your Inner Critic.
How the heck do we ever overcome the voice that says things like:
What’s the use?
Who cares what I have to say?
I’ll never be another Anne Patchett or Earnest Hemingway or . . . fill in the blank.
Why not just be yourself? What’s wrong with who you are?
It’s taken me years to learn to get the help I need, whether it’s a writer’s critique group or reading the long pages of notes from my developmental editor. But I stayed and I kept my butt in the chair. Like training a new puppy, I said over and over again, “Stay, stay, stay.” I wrote and I read and I stayed.
Regarding the social media comment, I couldn’t help but wonder if she could learn what Tiger Woods taught me: there are good shots and bad shots. Do the best you can. Take what you like and leave the rest.
Love the line..."Like training a new puppy, I said over and over again, "Stay. Stay." Yes, it's like that. As for not for everyone...I can't help but think of all the books I've closed because they weren't for me, or books I never even bought because I knew, they weren't for me. Just like my books aren't for everyone, neither are all books for me. Still, I remember reviews and critiques that stung a little. Thanks Dian. And yes, never too late.
Hello Dian I so agree with Shelly “I guess I am not for everybody” it had taken me a very long time with my art & floral design to accept that. Now at my age I have found peace. ❤️