Showing posts with label criticism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label criticism. Show all posts

Wednesday, May 13, 2009

Walking the Dark Side of the Moon





You’ve all been there. Not literally, of course, because it’s inaccessible. You’ve heard Pink Floyd sing about it on their magnum opus album of the same name. Books bear the title. Video games do too. Songwriters refer to it and even Sherrilyn Kenyon used it as the title of a recent novel.

You’ve wondered if the dark side’s a mere reflection of the moon face we see regularly, or something different. Unique. Special. Maybe sinister. It is the DARK side, is it not? Didn’t George Lucas make a bazillion dollars turning the concept of ‘the dark side’ into unforgettable conflict?

We mere mortals tend to see things in shades of light/dark, good/bad, strong/weak, etc. We label and classify in a process that offers us more control.

We like control.

Maybe that’s why criticism hurts so much. It knives that control, it pierces our resolve, it threatens our equanimity because we don’t measure up to someone, somewhere. Myra blogged the other day about how criticism dogs us long after compliments leave us. We perseverate on it. Dwell on it. Let it eat at us, nipping the heels of our enthusiasm and talent.

Whaaaaaa! Whaaaaaaaaa! Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!!!!!!!!!

Let’s go one step further. Let’s suppose God granted us two hands, ten fingers, two eyes and a brain to take that criticism and turn it into a better song, a more resourceful child, a deeper spirituality and yes, a stronger manuscript or book.

Yup, you’ve got it. I’m telling you to use the gifts God gave you to be the parent you can be, the Christian you ought to be and the writer you should be, all by using what you’ve already been given.

It’s easy to complain. So easy. And I’m ridiculously guilty of that weakness, but not proud of it because quite often there’s a glimmer or more of hard truth in criticism.

And what do we do?

Jump to the defensive. Rally the troops. Become enraged. Doubt the critic’s or judge’s or editor/agent’s intelligence and wonder if they might be the unclaimed child of an African primate that swings from trees.

What is the matter with us? Why do we raise our hackles instantly when someone takes a jab, well meaning or otherwise? Are we that insecure? That uncertain? Or is it that we’re too certain, ready to assume that if someone disagrees with our work, our stand, our opinion, they’re wrong?

As authors and Christians we tend to forget the big “H”. Humility. Oh we talk about it, but few of us practice it, despite Biblical teachings and Christ’s examples. We become obsessed with the quality we see in ourselves or our family or our work or our home, and resist examining things through the eyes of others, refusing to recognize the acuity of their vantage point.

Sometimes outsiders see us more clearly than we see ourselves because they view without emotional baggage or self-interest. This clarity should be viewed as a gift, an offering, and yet we often fail to seize that opportunity to improve ourselves or our writing because we feel wronged.

I love what Richard Mabry said on Tuesday, when he referred to a past rejection. The agent apologized and said Richard’s work wasn’t up to his standards, and how Richard later realized the original work wasn’t up to his standards, either. It takes guts to admit that and true courage to redouble your efforts and improve your situation.

Excuses are easy. Everybody has stress, time constraints, pressure, sick kids, aging parents, car repairs, leaky roofs, running toilets, and too many bills. Are ya’ kiddin’ me?

Despite that, it’s our job to be rodeo writers. Grab the criticism bull by the horns and rassle him to the ground. Take charge. Rope it in. Way too often that criticism isn’t someone having a bad day (a common excuse we use to make us feel better about ourselves), but a glimmer of something we know we could improve on. We just don’t like that someone saw fit to call us on it.

I saw a bumper sticker the other day that said “Carpe Diem is a stupid concept.”

Right, Einstein.

Refusing to seize the day, the opportunities, the moments God offers to improve ourselves… Now that’s a stupid concept.

Ruthy

Tuesday, May 12, 2009

Slaying the Criticism Dragons

Apologies once again on behalf of publicist Jeane Wynn. Another family crisis prevented her from joining us today.

One thing we Seekers are really good at is commiserating with each other over rejections, bad reviews, and cutting contest critiques. As my pastor said in his sermon yesterday, it doesn’t seem to matter how many times we are praised and complimented. The stuff that sticks in our minds is the criticism. It lodges in our psyche and nibbles away at our self-confidence until all we’re able to focus on is our failure.

You’ve heard the old saying, “You can’t please everybody.” Some days it feels like you can’t please anybody! The naysayers pour out of the woodwork like a herd of termites. But if we’re going to survive and thrive in the writing business, we have to find creative ways to get past the negativity. We must learn to celebrate our successes, put our failings in perspective, and keep writing.

Here are a few websites to turn to when you need help slaying the dragons of criticism:


Your turn to share . . . if you dare!

PLEASE do NOT name names or reveal any other identifying information, but now’s your chance to air your dirty laundry--er, reviews, rejections, or critiques.

What are your favorite coping strategies?

What helps you keep the negativity in perspective so you can keep writing?

Thursday, January 31, 2008

It never ends

Camy here, talking about reader subjectivity.

Pam mentioned this on Monday’s post, and I totally agree with her. You often see wildly disparate scores AND comments from judges, and the truth is that you can’t please everyone.

As I get reviews about my books, I’m seeing the same trend I saw when I entered contests. Wildly disparate ratings AND comments.

One reviewer loved the breadth of topics that revealed my character’s family atmosphere—and how it influenced her—in more depth. Another reviewer said there was too much stuff, which made the story too shallow.

One reviewer loved my heroine. Another one said she was mean.

One reviewer loved the insight into Asian American culture, especially the fact I pointed the differences between Japanese and Chinese. Another reviewer hated the Asian-ness of it and thought it was racist.

The truth is, the disparate reader opinions we’ve all seen from writing contest judges never ends, because we see it as published authors. (Except that reviewers tend to be more blunt and public about their opinions than contest judges.)

In a rather weird way, it’s actually a good thing to have that one judge who doesn’t get your writing. The “out there” judges’ comments I received on my contest entries are being echoed by reviewers now, but I’m prepared for them because I’ve heard it all before.

That’s probably not really helpful to you when you’re smarting from a score of 1 and a judge who rants about your character’s political stance rather than commenting on the storyline or writing. Or the judge who gives you all 1’s and all he complains about is that your margins are 1.25” and not 1”.

However, I’ve discovered that having a contest judge complain—no matter how mean or spacey or confusing the comment is—has helped me in the long run because seeing the same sort of comment on an Amazon review doesn’t faze me the way it normally would.

I won’t lie—developing a thick skin takes time and you never really toughen up as much as you’d like to. That’s what family and friends are for—to give you a hug, then smack you upside the head and tell you to “Get over it” or “Suck it up” because it’s only one person’s opinion.

I also received some excellent advice from Kristin Billerbeck and Brandilyn Collins—often when a judge or reviewer complains about something in your story that you really don’t understand, it’s because that part of your book touched a sore spot in his/her own life. Sometimes, the judge or reviewer is with denial or guilt over something in his/her own heart, and your story brought it to the forefront of their mind, causing them pain or anguish. They lash out with an “out there” comment that really has nothing to do with you or your story.

Also, there’s nothing we can do about judges’ personal preferences. Some people like fast-paced stories, others like meandering ones, and if your novel is one or the other, you’re going to get complaints that the story was “too slow” or “too fast.” Some people like strong characters while others like compassionate ones, and you can expect comments from people who think your heroine is “too soft” or “too hard.”

Now, don’t get me wrong—if three different judges point out the same problem, it’s probably something to listen to. But remember to read with a discerning heart.

My advice is to feel the sting—yup, go ahead and feel it! Kick the cabinets, burn the roast, and indulge in lots of chocolate.

Then exert yourself to move on. Tell yourself that the difficult comment will actually help you someday when you’ve got that novel on the Barnes and Noble shelves.