Fear. The main ingredient in why writers don’t write.
As I’ve said for decades. Writing is 10% skill and 90% psychological. The skill we can master. The psychological weaknesses we face go on and on and must be accepted as the cross all artists have to bear.
The Issue: Writers don’t realize they are entertainers. Yes, even non-fiction writers are entertainers. Writers publishing their works is the same as an actor walking on stage and performing in front of a crowd of strangers who demand nothing less than a memorable experience.
Yep. No pressure at all.
But if entertainers didn’t get up on stages and try their best, and risk failing, the world would be bereft of all color and light, of culture and humanity, of emotional expression, good and bad — the essence of life itself. Trust me. If the world only had dispassionate bridge builders and not risk-taking artists, yes, we'd go places but be so unfulfilled we'd jump from those bridges to our death.
Dear Writer, Some Hard Truths (I'm not known for my bedside manner. So, suck is up, petals.)
If you’re an artist, you will regularly, endlessly create and fail, and occasionally succeed.
And if you’re an entertainer, ‘til your dying breath, you will be plagued with Stage Fright — the Fear of Failing. Yep, the almighty scourge of those who are brave enough to get up in front of the world and reflect humanity back on itself in vibrant, edgy, exhilarating ways.
So, what happens if you get up, display your wares, and people boo? Or in a writer’s world, leave horrible one-star reviews?
Oh. My. God! It’s the end of life as we writers know it. We wordsmiths extraordinaire will melt, liquefy into distilled humiliation and shame, and sploosh onto the floor of life, never to exist again.
Hm…… are you sure about that?
P.T. Barnum once said, “There’s no such thing as bad publicity.” And although I detest circuses in all forms, especially those using animals, this circus master was right.
There truly is no such thing as bad publicity.
What any artist should fear is indifference. With indifference, an artist has failed to push any emotional buttons, good or bad. That, my friend, is like being dust in the wind.
Never fear failure. Embrace it. Here’s why…
Bad Reviews Dissected
A writer has to read the review, sit back, breathe, and look at its reason for being.
What kind of bad review is it?
a) Is it a hit job? A lashing out at topic or artist. Killing the messenger from envy, spite?
b) Is it a comment on the mechanics – grammar, delivery?
c) Is it a critique on the facts?
There are remedies to all three. And neither will have you melt like the Wicked Witch of the Writing West. As Celine Dion bellowed, “[Your] Heart Will Go On.”
a) Consciously or not, you’ve succeeded in pushing someone’s emotional buttons. Your work sparked something deep inside. The reader’s defense mechanism has them lashing out. Solution: Calmy read the review. Empathize. Move on. Offer NO comment. Readers are a smart lot. Give them credit to see this review for what it is. Bonus: Hit jobs of any sort can muster added interest on their own. Curiosity is a powerful thing. It can spur more word of mouth, more reads. Smile. Write on. You are an artist. You touched another human being. You did your work. Disclaimer: If you purposely attacked someone with your work, you had better have a damn good reason, legal and otherwise. Art should never be a weapon. Capice?
b) Did you do your due diligence here? Did you hire an editor if your editing skills are not up to par? Use beta readers? Self-edit, including the ROL — Read Out Loud the manuscript to catch with your other senses what your eyes will not? If not, do those things now. Correct the errors right away. Hone up on your knowledge of grammar in the areas where your weaknesses lie. And be grateful a reader was brave enough to point out your failings so you could correct. Writers aren’t perfect. But do what all good writers must. Edit your works.
c) Facts are a funny thing. You can literally know them inside and out and still write down the wrong word or date or name. I managed to do that very thing in my last book. Idiot me! Again, be grateful for this type of reviewer. If possible, email them directly and thank them for their valuable input. Tell them you will immediately correct the errors. Do NOT make excuses. It doesn’t matter how you screwed up. You did. Swallow it. Correct. Smile. Breathe. Move on. As much as a writer strives to get things perfect, in a 50-100,000-word manuscript, errors will occur. It’s the name of the game when it comes to humans and their ability to gaffe. You, me, all of us. Consider it the equivalent of a singer on stage forgetting the words to a song. It happens. Smile, self-correct, and sing on!
Free Advice: When you shop at your nearest stationery store for your favorite writer gadgets, pick up a package of thick skin and a box of sturdy backbones. Those two items may be more important than your favorite pen or sticky note.
There are two types of writers — amateurs and professionals.
Amateurs are like hobbyists. They play at the art for their own enjoyment. Errors don’t factor in. It’s more like working out on a treadmill in your mind. The exercise does something for you, whether right or wrong. Their works never see the light of day. It’s all about creation, not correction.
Professionals are a breed apart. You create works to be experienced by the world at large. And in this vein, you must work hard to offer the best performance you can. And even after you do, you expect reviews, good and bad. And know it’s through the bad reviews you will learn the most about your art. Look at bad reviews as gifts to better your work going forward. If everyone praised you all the time, your art would never improve. Ask yourself. Are you creating to pet your ego or to produce great works? All I will say to this: You will be of little value to the world if you’re striving for the former.
So, How Do I Get Over Bad Reviews?
Simple answer: you will not. In some form or fashion, they will linger in your subconscious, haunting you the same way as a police officer not catching a killer or a construction worker building a faulty building. Lucky for writers. Most of your failures will not kill.
You simply have to accept them and move on. Learn from your mistakes. The embarrassment or shame you just experienced will ensure you’ll never make that same mistake again, and that puts you one step forward to being a master wordsmith.
Your ego is what you need to corral. Being told you have erred in some way dents your ego. Nobody likes that, yet all of us who perform must expect those dents. If you could x-ray a master actor, they’d be more dents than gloss.
Self-Care essential. Take a couple days away for yourself. Get off the grid. Recline in the sun, on a chaise lounge, sipping a Mai Tai. Process the review. See its objective and subjective parts. Correct the objective. Empathize with the subjective. Once you’ve licked your emotional wound clean, get back on the keyboard horse and ride again. You might as well write now. You know you will eventually. You’re a professional artist. You can’t help being you.
Bonus: Over time, your skin thickens, your backbone strengthens. You will better accept the feedback. You will learn from your mistakes and be grateful for the learning curve. And you will go on to create better and better works of art and buy less Kleenex in bulk.
Being a great wordsmith comes with time, life experience, and emotional hurt.
Hard work is done here on earth. Perfection lives in heaven.
Writers, while you breathe on this Blue Marble, do your best work. Leave the rest in your readers’ hands. Once your work is out there, it no longer belongs to you. It belongs to the world. Remember that.
And be ever so grateful those readers chose to experience your created worlds, imperfect as they are.
