Scribbler's Cafe

That woman doesn't like me

My first reaction to negative criticism of my writing is anguish. I’d like to say that I’ve reached a stage where that’s not the case, but I haven’t. My emotions move quickly to defensiveness and superiority. Yes, I realize that none of my first three responses are constructive.

My first critical, knowledgeable critique of my book from someone who has no investment in my success (vicarious or otherwise) was mixed – at best. She said some of my pieces were obviously very “young” and others were really strong. She thinks it would be very ambitious of me to try to sell Anticipation. Ambitious. She used that word a lot, with a little smirk on her lips. I haven’t even told her my plans to take over the world yet.

I am hurt. I hate to admit it. I wanted her to sing my praises. Didn’t happen. So, I started to doubt her judgment. She likes the stories that I regret writing. She shrugs off the stories I find most powerful. She doesn’t like when people write about writing. I write about writing.

Her review wasn’t all bad, it was just mixed. I had a very hard time hearing the positive remarks after being cut down so much. She said this book would embarrass me later on - not what I say, but the skill of my writing. I think I’ll save that judgment for myself, thank you very much.

My ever encouraging and supportive husband told me that she and I obviously have different tastes in writing. He said that the fact that she likes the stories that I don’t means that my stories are therefore 100% likable. I like his logic.

I know that in the life of a writer I will have many people give negative reviews of my work. I don’t even like everything that my favorite authors have written, despite how brilliant that I think most of their work is. I just wish it didn’t hurt my feelings. I do feel young, just like she said. Dammit.

posted by Scribbler @ Thursday, July 15, 2004