Broken Writing, Growing Writer

I’ve had lots of people point out problems in my writing. That’s actually a good thing, since it lets me fix the problems. I’ve also had a few people say mean personal things to me because of my writing, and that’s not okay. So today, I’m going to talk about the difference between you and your writing.

Wait, you say, it’s pretty obvious that I’m not the same as my writing. I’m a person, not words on a page.

You’d certainly think so, but it doesn’t always work that way in real life. First, your words can be a reflection of yourself, and they’re a product of your creative soul. When someone is tearing into your heartfelt words, it can feel like they’re attacking you personally. (Usually they aren’t…) Second, some people forget there’s a difference between who you are and what you write. A few unfortunate souls DO attack the writer instead of the writing. Instead of saying “I’m confused at this point,” they say say “You don’t care if your reader is confused.” Instead of saying, “I didn’t believe the motivation,” they say “You can’t write good characters.” Instead of saying, “This plot is too convoluted,” they say, “You’re stupid if you think anyone is going to follow this.” Can you see the difference?

Here’s the lecture part of this post: don’t be that person. Yes, point out problems you find, but do it nicely, with specifics, and only about the writing. That does not mean keeping your mouth shut “to be nice.” Friends don’t let friends send their writing public when they know it still has problems. It just means to focus on the issue in a way that the writer can fix the poor thing.

Here’s the encouragement part of the post: if this happens to you, and it probably will at some point, go ahead and cry (preferably in private). Then pick yourself up and repeat with me: “Their bad manners are not my problem.” Did you repeat it yet? Several times, maybe? Rinse and repeat until you believe it. Now repeat this: “I am learning. Though my writing needs work, I can learn from my mistakes and grow as a writer. I’m better than I was last year, and next year, I’ll be better than I am now. I am not defined by my skill, especially not by my current level.”

Okay, now sit down and edit their rude comments. Look for words you CAN use. “You don’t care if your reader is confused” becomes “confused.” Granted, that’s not the most specific advice, but at least it tells you where to start looking for specific problems. If they flat-out insult you with no actual advice included AT ALL, take a nice red pen and enjoy striking out the entire sentence.

Now, take your edited comments and solve what you can. Anything left over, run by a trusted friend/critique partner for help. “I was told this section is confusing.” (Yep, just skip the rest of what they said.) “Can you tell me where and/or why you get confused? Thank you!”

If you have no choice but to work with the insulting person again (English class, maybe?), it might or might not be worth talking to them about how to give feedback. (It depends on their personality and a bunch of other stuff.) If you can’t talk to them about giving better critiques, then buckle on your Impervious-to-Insults armor before you meet with them, and keep it firmly in place until you’ve finished going over their comments. If you do have a choice about working with them, it’s worth considering ending your critiquing relationship. (Please note that I didn’t say “end your entire relationship.” If they’re a friend/family, don’t do that…)

Remember, you the writer are a person, inherently worthwhile and full of potential, no matter your current state of anything. Your writing is not you, no matter how much it feels like a piece of you. Both you and your writing can be improved if there is a problem, but they are still two different entities that should be judged entirely separately and not by the same people.

Go forth, improve your writing and be a better person, but don’t confuse the two.

M. C. Lee

Leave a comment here...

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.