LOL Mimi, "Damn! Poking around on Book Country is too easy a way to avoid working on my book." Yup, I've done that.

It could be many just read the site to learn from others' experiences, or this could all be Carl E. Reed's fault, or perhaps some just want to post a book here without joining in the forums.

Oh! Excellent point, LeeAnna: "I find more kindred spirits here," says it all. I can find people to read & critique my book but here there is a connection.

Well put!

Laura, I would have reviewed you already, except that I'm currently working my way through Angela and GD's novels first, chapter by chapter. (Btw: a poorly-written book is easy to review; there's no end of criticisms to make or problems to call attention to. But a book written with some degree of authorial skill, that demonstrates partial or intermittent control of craft, well . . . that's a much harder review to write. Just sayin' . . .)

A further thought: Every day you're writing and reading, you're improving. Guaranteed. The more you read and write, the faster you'll improve. Neural pathways are shaped and strengthened by cognitive effort in much the same way a weight-lifter builds muscle mass: through repetition, discipline and mindful focus on proper form. While you're waiting for those reviews to roll in (i.e., validate you as a writer) understand that you're giving power to a false god: the opinions of others. I'm not talking about improving your writing by minding the helpful, on-target criticisms of talented reviewers but rather the importance of seeing and believing in yourself as a successful, functional writer right now, regardless of who validates you or not. And that’s not just my opinion but the opinion of every named writer I can think of who’s written a book on writing for writers in the last thirty years.

And please don't feel bad about confessing to a moment of insecurity or doubt about your talents; every writer worth his or her salt feels (or has felt) the same way. Every good, honest, decent writer, that is—regardless of their amateur, semi-pro or professional status. The other kind? They've just learned to hide it better: via retreats into Sphinx-like or sullen silence, raving ego-maniacal pronouncements about how great and grand their prose is, feigned indifference to the opinions of others, false-note confessions that they’re really only writing so as to provoke their ideological/artistic enemies into attacking them for their own perverse amusement.

Here’s another thing I fiercely, absolutely believe with heart, mind and soul: It’s not about receiving gold trophies, crowns or stars. That’s just adults “playing school” with each other—remember? “You be the student now and I’ll be the teacher; write ten sentences with zebras and giraffes in them.” (Or something equally as arbitrary.) “Yay! You did it! Here’s your gold star. Okay; my turn now—you tell me what to write and then give me the gold star.”

No, the real reward to be found in reading and writing (assuming you’re not simply regurgitating dogma and cant, or reading like some narrow-minded zealot merely to confirm your own prejudices) is the richer train of associations the world will have for you. Life should have deeper meaning, import and impact; you should feel the fragility and the sacredness of your existence—and the existences of others—with far keener insight, pity and understanding. Your highs will be higher, your lows lower, because you’ve come to a better, fuller appreciation and understanding of what is. Every unexpected act of kindness, decency and pity should therefore move you to tears and damn near unhinge you, because you can now see these acts for what they are: Life spitting in the face of Death, Good confronting Evil, Dignity and Decency refusing to knuckle under to Indignity and Debasement.

I got up on my damn soapbox again but I’m going to let Hemingway have the last words:

—We are all apprentices in a craft where no one ever becomes a master.

—If you have a success you have it for the wrong reasons. If you become popular it is always because of the worst aspects of your work.
................................................

PS. I'm going to read this tomorrow and see ten ways I could have made this better; find ten mistakes I wish I could correct. So no, you're not the only one to experience a moment of chagrined doubt and regret over something you've written. Occupational hazard, heh! 

 

@Laura: Point of clarification to my post above: I was refering to your book there, not GD's or Angela's. (See, this is one of those "ten-things-in-retrospect-I-wish-I-had-expressed-better". Nine more to go . . .) There's a lot to like in your writing and, as with all of us, a couple of things you might do a bit better, eh? And no doubt are already working on.

What I was trying to suggest in yesterday's post (among other things) is that I wouldn't assume people are avoiding reading and critiquing you because your writing is awful. Rather I think it's much more likely that reviewers are struggling to offer helpful, pertinent criticisms to improve the text of an already-skilled writer; one who might benefit from helpful suggestions in certain areas. It's much easier to critique writing that is either exceptionally well done or in need of significant re-write (in the reviewer's opinion); it's a far more difficult task to help a promising writer like yourself w/o pissing you off and driving you away. So hang in there! The constructive reviews are coming; I'm sure. (Though I re-iterate what I stated earlier: The critique is a means to an end, not the end itself.) Cheers! 

@Angela - Me? Right? That's unpossible...

@Carl - Well said, well said. Very good point that even though it *is* well said, you still want to go back and reword it.

@Monday - I was gone for a while too. Computer failure on my part, not theft, but still...

Welcome back!

@Laura - secret - both are true. Practice rewires your brain. You may have some starting proclivities in anything, but those are typically meaningless when weighed against the skills developed with practice.

Hopefully a lucky rabbit . . .

Ha! Mimi You nailed it! For example, I know my ex wife is on here. She doesn't write. But she's probably just staying connected to our daughter, who is here.

Let's i-vision a 'Net phenomenen where people feel compelled to "connect" with others. Some won't ever do more than that. The connection is the consumation. Perhaps the lost souls here we never hear from derive nourishment from the connection alone.

Maybe all those lurking, un-vocal people are--GASP!-- simply monitoring us to prove to themselves (and others) that writers are as odd and maladjusted a bunch as they'd always suspected. ("Get in here, Mary-Lou, and look at this! What'd I tell ya? Damn weirdos, is what they is. Don't wanna never hear no more crazy talk 'bout 'choo bringin' more books into this here house; we gots enough crazy with Cleetus thinking gravy is a vegetable.")