In a continuation of what I published last week about writers understanding story, I'd like to use this week's blog to talk about what type of skin you need to have as a writer during the creative process.
Thick Skin
If you've spent any time in the publishing space whether in Facebook groups, on Goodreads, or just pursuing Amazon comments, you would've noticed that reviews/reactions/opinions can be brutal.
As a writer, you're putting your thoughts, skills, and work out there for critique, and not everyone is going to like your brand of creativity.
Side note: Whenever a writer claims their book "is for everyone" they don't know the market, their genre (can't name one their book fits into), and their book is likely not very good. Harry Potter being well-liked by the whole world (a little conflation there) doesn't mean it's for everyone and that it doesn't squarely fit onto the middle-grade shelf in the bookstore (not the everyone shelf—because there isn't one). You have to know your readers so you can write to them. You can't write to everyone; stop trying.
When I shopped my first novel to editors, I was given a frank response by one. She told me she would not edit my book. It wouldn't be worth her time and the amount of money she'd have to charge because it was so bad. She didn't write that last part about being bad (I read the subtext), but she did say I had to work on my "head-hopping."
You know how you get that tingly feeling when you're caught doing something wrong or are super embarrassed about some behavior; you know, that brief moment of shock? That's what I had. My book wasn't worth an editor's time. She didn't mean it in a mean, "your book sucks" kind of way, but she did mean it in a "you should master basic writing craft before contacting an editor" way.
So, I set out to research head-hopping. I went through my novel rewriting scenes (and seeing the book kind of did suck), cutting a ton of words, and asking what in the world was I thinking so many times because I had no clue what I was trying to say.
That was my first lesson in having thick skin. Long before readers got a crack at my book, I had to toughen up for the revision process. Because revising is looking at your work critically for improvement.
In a lot of these online communities, it's great to see writers putting their work and their covers out there for critique, looking to be better so they can create a satisfying experience for readers. The main reason I pursued a master's is because I wanted to elevate my writing. I wanted to learn more craft and study with people who are bestselling and award-winning—basically, authors who know what they're doing. I told my thesis advisor to be frank and brutally honest. If it's bad, please say so. Now, this list author has been an absolute joy to work with. She's articulate and never harsh. A wonderful coach. Yet, I wanted her to understand that I have a thick skin and I'm ready to face inadequacies and limitations head-on so I can increase my skill.
I wrote last week that ideas need to be challenged. Sometimes you need to go three and four levels deep in crafting an idea worth pursuing. Writing is very much like that. Drafting and revising. Or drafting, drafting, and drafting again before you revise, revise, and revise. Setting aside your ego will help toughen your skin. Be ready to step outside of your story and read it with an objective eye. This might be tough, depending on how close you are to the story, but the less emotionally attached you are to your brilliance (that being your ideas or story), the easier you can read your work and say, "Nah."
I've restarted my thesis three times since I started working with my advisor. The more I attack it, the deeper I understand my characters and the clearer the story becomes. I cringe to think of the original draft and the original revised draft. Terrible. Thick skin should be in place while you draft. Draft with the freedom of knowing your book will change as you journey through the creative process.
Early in my MFA, we talked about F. Scott Fitzgerald's relationship with his editor, Max Perkins. Fitzgerald relied on Perkins and trusted his opinion and critique of his work. Could you imagine if Fitzgerald insisted on his original title for The Great Gatsby? We could've ended up with the terrible (and only clever to Fitzgerald) Trimalchio in West Egg.
That's right. When you get too clever for your good, you get that.
Here's what Perkins wrote to Fitzgerald about the title (after praising the book as a whole):
Now deal with this question: various gentlemen here don't like the title,—in fact none like it but me. To me, the strange incongruity of the words in it sound the note of the book. But the objectors are more practical men than I. Consider as quickly as you can the question of a change.*
Deal with this question. As a writer, we have to deal with questions about the work. Don't dismiss it. Consider you haven't reached your best yet.
The strange incongruity of the words. Strange. Do you need more explanation?
More practical men than I. I believe, despite Perkins liking the title, that he knew it was not going to work. Although readers are clever, they're not in our heads and won't make all the connections because of the distance they have from the work. Perkins read the book so he could appreciate the title. Titles are a marketing tool promising a journey to the reader when they read it.
Consider...a change. "About the title. I'll try my best but I don't know what I can do." Fitzgerald tried; yet, in the moment, sometimes you can't see a way forward. Especially when you're close to the work and love that darling.
Writers can get in their way. Three times my advisor suggested I reconsider an idea. It took my thick head a while to figure out a new plan, but I did—and I already know it's better. I laugh at my first idea now. What was I thinking? But not holding fast to that idea allowed me to work through it and broaden my creativity.
This post might not have been what you were expecting when I mentioned having thick skin. Usually, a discussion about thick skin is in the context of getting used to readers not liking your work. But I wanted to tackle it from a different angle: in the context of when your ideas are challenged, especially by an editor whose goal is to help strengthen your work.
Develop that thick skin. Be humble during the creative process because reviews will certainly humble you later.
*A Life in Letters, F. Scott Fitzgerald, found in a Quora discussion thread and may contain errors in accuracy.
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