In open forums such as blogs, I’m not interested in knocking other writers. Their purposes vary—sharing information, expressing themselves, conducting business, digging into a niche, making friends, having fun without the pressure, etc. If I compliment, it’s honest. However, I may offer a different point of view politely. I do not shower sites with “likes” and meaningless praise to collect followers, though this era of publishing demands them.
Whether writers self-publish or submit to an agent/press, there is a market reality for most. I’ve worked on the other side; publishers need to make a buck. Most have margins that tighten yearly.
Publishing is not for the faint-hearted. Few writers earn a wealthy wage from books. Sure, it’s an emotional journey, but “ego can sometimes get in the way.”
When I analyze manuscripts, I’m kind but do not sugar coat. My goal is to offer a thorough, constructive review in a civilized manner. There is more empathy in truth than false stroking.
Anyone who is serious about writing does not depend on the kindness of strangers, friends, and family. Okay, I ask a few trusted people for their thoughts on my copy. In fact, my niece’s advice just prevented my going down a slippery slope. It’s fine to share on LinkedIn and listen to group members. They often offer useful ideas. However, criticism that dwells on punctuation, spelling, and mechanics without addressing content, style, tone, and voice falls short.
Feedback from a professional editor is essential. An editor of longstanding will review any book I submit for publication.
Self-honesty is a good policy. For example, I like to write poetry but do not kid myself. Only a few journals have accepted my work. I studied with two gifted poets, which humbled me. They maintained strict standards. Engaging in this highly disciplined genre informs me as a writer of prose (e.g., development of imagery and beats). Free verse is not a free-for-all. In fact, it’s difficult to master.
In my mid-twenties, I worked for an exacting manager at an in-house advertising agency. He did not dish out flaky happiness. He forced me to redo my first copywriting assignment multiple times. The seventh was the charm.
A Teflon psyche? Now that’s a good thing. To flip a cliché—if I didn’t stand the heat in a professional kitchen, the flames would have burned me alive. I get up plenty of mornings, look in the mirror, and say, “Get over yourself.” Then I might produce something better than yesterday’s precious copy.
Know thyself? Here’s a writer who does and found his peace: “Competition and Writing” by Eric Sonnenschein.
Look for Eric’s thoughtful posts on LinkedIn. Also, you’ll find his novels, collected essays (Making Up for Lost Time and All over the Place: Essays from A to Z), and other works on his website and Goodreads. Currently, Eric is finishing Mad Nomad, a novel about the Peace Corps in the Middle East. If you want to learn the art of the essay, read Eric’s collections. His work delivers; his creative nonfiction sings. No fluff. Just smart.
Hello Catherine, that Hemingway quote is such solace to me. The way I write is just to blurt it all out at once and then let it fester for a day or two. When I go back to review, I just cringe. Good lord, did I really write this? As an editor, I’m sure you’ve read the quote about “killing your babies.” That’s helped me a lot too when I get too clever for my own good. This writing stuff is not for sissies, is it? Always appreciative of your sound advice.
Thanks, Barbara. I’m not sure I have advice. It’s more a reflection on what I have learned. I can’t even equate the state of my current writing condition with childbirth. I have a long way to go. The great Alabama (and national) poet Andrew Glaze had the right to call his poems “damned ugly children.”
http://www.encyclopediaofalabama.org/article/h-2464
I am swamped at the moment with real life, Catherine, and haven’t had time to really properly absorb this article. I’ve put it on my list however and will read soon. Thanks so much.
BTW Barbara, your copy is beautifully executed. You think about it. That’s why you have great followers. They are FOR REAL.
I thank you for this, Catherine.
Great to be honest (constructively) with writers and yourself. And… I just sold a poem for $50. So there are still venues out there.
Boom! Good for you. One day I will heed your advice about poetry. I just feel I’m not there yet. : 0
In respect of writing there are very few places to turn to except the cheval mirror in the attic, and, regrettably, either by dint of crepuscular light or by some strange entropy, it too can distort; therefore, it is generally best to maintain a jocose relationship with mirrors, as they are can be disarmed by a half-smile, allowing you to steal a revelatory glance, now and again.
Bingo. ; ) Thanks for stopping by–as usual.
I edit my stuff quite a bit. Mostly, to eliminate the words, sentences that are not necessary. My posts here, for example, average 300-400 words, but they start out a bit larger. ☺ Hemingway was a rock star.
You’re a rock star. ; ) Your posts are always well written. That’s why it is a pleasure to follow you. I like to follow real people.
Thank you so much, Catherine, being tagged as “real” is the best compliment ever to me. It is my pleasure to follow you as well. ❤️
It’ no wonder we share a lot of common friend-bloggers. Thanks much for your friendship and prose.
I was thinking the same.
I found this very informative..
Thanks.
I enjoy your candor and that you are in possession of what Hemingway said is a main quality of a fine writer: a built-in crap detector. Also liked the Eric Sonnenschein piece. Thanks!
Priceless! I will add that to my skills list. Thanks for reading.