How to be a Writer: Part VII - Dealing with Criticism

Last week, we talked about how to handle rejection. This week, we'll talk about your response to something far more insidious, and possibly far more psychologically damaging: criticism. When you write, it's easy to lose objectivity on a story. I mean, for heaven's sake, you know what you're trying to say, and what comes out through your fingers may be brilliant to your mind, but it may not translate well to readers. That's why we often look for critique groups, writers' circles, and other such gangs of would-be writers who bring their knowledge to the table and expect you to do the same. In addition, we also throw our work out there for reviewers, agents, editors, and every random person who reads our work. And as the old saying goes, opinions are like strings: every yo-yo has one. Yes, I know that's not how the real saying goes. Call it artistic interpretation.

Grandma will always tell you that you're a genius because, well, she's grandma, and that's what she does. Telling you how good your work is without any shred of criticism doesn't help you. That's actually why we seek out things like beta readers, test readers, etc. What you're looking for is an honest opinion on your work. Not one that's spiteful, not one that is uninformed. Ideally, you're looking for a member of your target audience who is willing to be a guinnea pig for your story. A beta reader, writers group, critique circle, etc. should all have a single goal in mind: To make you better.

Be the best version of you...

So how do you deal with criticism? First, consider the source. I'm going to break down some different types of sources of criticism, and how I deal with them.

• Respected Professional - Let's say, for sake of argument, that Stephen King grabs hold of one of my raw manuscripts. It could happen. And let's say that he offers up some advice on how a particular character should act or about what does and doesn't work. Him, I listen to. Why? Because he obviously knows what he's talking about. Not only that, he doesn't have any skin in the game of whether or not I succeed. If King is offering advice, his is the voice of experience. Listen to him. 
• Critique Group - You have a group of amateur or professional writers who get together with the goal of working on each others' pieces in the hopes of making them publishable. When it's your turn to be critiqued, you get a lot of advice. Some of it's helpful, some isn't. But the point is, this is the purpose of the group. So, yes, I listen here. There's a caveat (which I'll talk about in a moment or two), but yes, I listen. 
• Reviewer - When your work gets published, your work will get sent to professional reviewers (you hope). Those reviewers will often times give detailed accounts of what did or didn't work. Do I listen? Meh... Sometimes. I mean, if the criticism makes sense, sure. However, I've read plenty of reviews of my work that it was clear they weren't the target I'd intended, so I didn't put much stock in their criticism. 
• Rando McRandom - Check Amazon... Everyone thinks they're a critic these days. Why? Because it's easy. Log in and tell the world your opinion (yo-yo strings, remember?). But the question is, do you listen to the criticism of a bunch of random people on Amazon who may or may not be your intended audience? Yes and no. I mean, yes, because reviews drive sales, and after a certain number of reviews (I think it's 100), Amazon takes notice of your book. On the other hand, I've gotten reviews that were... less than helpful. I got one in particular who was so "triggered" by a scene in one of my books that she basically called for me to be pillared. Forget that the whole point of the scene was to show how screwed up that part of society was, the fact that I dared put it in a book (which she didn't normally read in my genre anyway) completely was beside the point. Also, a quick google of my name will let you know the kind of thing you're in for with my work, so there's that. So do I listen to those critiques? Well, if it says something thoughtful, sure. But if it's really just a chance for the reviewer to crap all over the work without giving a thought to how to fix it, no. I just let it live and roll with it. 

Here's the thing: Every piece of criticism is not created equal. At the end of the day, the best gauge of whether a critique is worthless or not is you. You need to be able to read the critique that someone put together and weigh whether the suggestions make sense or if they are as much a fetid bag of dingo's kidneys. Consider: does the critique just tell you that what you wrote sucks? Or does it give you some idea as to what specifically doesn't work, and why? Does the person offering criticism know what they're talking about? Is the criticism designed to knock you down, or to help you build yourself back up? I think that's the real point of consideration. 

Not like this. 

So what do you do with criticism once you've gotten it? You thank the person offering it, consider whether or not it has merit, and act accordingly. You don't get defensive, or snark back at them on Amazon, or tell them off in a heated email. Believe me, I've seen plenty of folks do this and with very few exceptions, none of them are working right now. No matter what, you need to be professional. Act like the professional you are, and thank them for their time, then, if you read the criticism and decided the person offering it is a loony, you go about your day and forget about it. If you start to get the same criticism from multiple sources, maybe have a second look. But, again, it's your book. At the end of the day, you have to be the one who is pleased with it. Those of us that offer advice, well... opinions are like strings, after all.

Look at all the opinions... I mean strings...

Next time, we'll talk about how to give good criticism. 

Until then, write on!

SAJ

How to Be a Writer - Part II (Your Writing Space)

Last time, in part one of our multi-part series, I talked about the basic tools that you need to be a writer. This time, I'm going to talk about where you write. Keep in mind, there is no right answer for this. There is what works for you. I'm going to be talking about what works for me, sharing a few glimpses into my writer's lifestyle, and what works for a few of my contemporaries (with their names redacted so you won't think I'm name-dropping anyone).

So what do you look for in a writing space? Well, if you're like me, you look for a few things. Darkness, few windows (I'm easily distracted), and a frickin' door, to start with. For me, a writing space becomes holy ground. When I'm in that space, I am not to be disturbed, and everyone in my life, in theory, knows that. It's not as pretentious as it sounds, really. The thing is, I have to be in a certain mindset when I write. When I hit that point, I can type for hours on end without a single break and not even realize the time has passed. But the thing is, it takes me a while to get there, and only an instant to pull me out of it. So, before we look at some different type of writing spaces, let's talk about the whole "sacred space" thing.

A Sacred Space is a place in the home that is used to unplug from everything else in your life so you can focus on one thing and one thing only (whatever that is). In most cases, when people talk about sacred spaces, they're talking about focusing on their spirituality, loving the world, or some other aspect of spiritual growth. Now take that concept and apply it to your writing room. Your writing room/space/garage/nook/ironing board should be that sort of place for you: A place where you can tune out the rest of the world and focus on what truly matters. In this case, it's your writing (and let's be honest here... Writing is a form of spirituality. And therapy.). It should be filled with things that help your writing, not distract you from it. Let me explain.

My writing room is an ode to chaos. Contained therein, you will find dozens of occult curios, reference books, novels, books by friends and former students. You'll find Captain America's shield hanging on the wall and my pug's bed in the corner. You will find my guitar behind my desk and paintings by my wife around my desk. In short, the room is me. It's everything that I need to feel comfort. It's everything that I need so I won't worry, look around, and find excuses not to write. One thing you will not find: Bills on my keyboard. See, nothing goes into my writing space that causes me anxiety because, well, that's not how I work. When I write, I write in silence with only ambient noise from the house around me.

But that's not how everyone works. One author I know finds his creative juices in a booth an the local Starbucks, surrounded by people and with noise all around. That's his sacred space. That's the space he goes to when it's time to go to work. Ernest Hemmingway wrote standing up with his typewriter on his dresser. That was his sacred space.  Some people write with music. Some write in silence. I know at least one writer whose typewriter used to sit on an ironing board in a very small cubby.

The point I'm trying to make is this: Find yourself a space that, when you are there, it's time to work. Why? Because you are training your brain to get into its creative state. It's a trigger. Think of it like a Pavlovian response. We ring the bell, you drool. You sit in your writing chair, you start thinking like a writer. Then comes the tricky part: EVERYONE ELSE.

I got lucky. I married an artist who understands that, when I'm working, I need to be left alone. She needs the same thing when she works. When we bought our house, we each created a space that was uniquely ours. I have my writing room downstairs, she has her art studio upstairs. And we both know when the other is in their sacred space, we leave them the hell alone.  And, yes, I'm aware that this makes us sound unbearable to live with, but that's what it is to live with creative people. We complement each other, and we deal with it.

But most folks aren't that lucky. The key to dealing with this? Ground rules. Communication. You can't just assume your partner(s) will understand what's going on in this room if you don't tell them. So you need to very carefully and explicitly set some ground rules for how you would like the world to operate if you're in your writing space. And then be expected to make compromises. For example: "I'd like to not be disturbed if I'm in this place, because I'm working on a novel." "Okay, but if we haven't seen you in eight hours, I'm breaking the door down." "Fair." Remember, a temperamental creative type you may be, but you're not allowed to be 100% asshole. Your partner's feelings are just as valid as yours, so you need to respect them. But you also need time to do what you need to do. Communication is the only way to solve this problem.

The point I'm trying to make is this: Find your space. Whether it's in a coffee shop, an office, your back porch, or even in your kitchen, find what works for you. Find the place that, when you sit there, your brain knows it's time to go into a creative cycle. And if you're one of those people who can work anywhere and anytime, more power to you. I wish I could, but I can't. And that's okay too.

Oh, and just in case you're wondering, here are some photos of my indoor and outdoor writing rooms.  Yes, I write on my back porch some times.

Next time, we're going to talk about one of the most important, and often ignored, aspects of actually being a writer in part three of our three-part series.

Until next time, write on!

SAJ

What makes you a writer?

I live in a town rife with weird people, hipsters, artists, yuppies, hippies, yippies, dippies, stoners, boners, phonies, bronies, furries, and freaks. Yes, Austin is all that and more. But there's something else that has been pointed out elsewhere that bears repeating.  For some reason everyone in Austin calls themselves writers. Oh, there are quite a few writers here, to be sure. But it seems that everyone has, or is working on, the great American novel/screenplay/world-changing-poetry. The majority of them head to one of Austin's many coffee shops with their laptops, camp at a table, and sip their double-espresso-mochachino-soy-non-fat-whipped-latte while they tappy-tap-tap on their keyboards. Do you have any idea how many coffee shops there are in Austin?  Not counting Starbucks? Like, a billion.

The life-blood of writers...

And for many of them, the lure of free wi-fi and comfy seats are what draws them to the coffee shop, and that's fine. The writing muses know I don't function without coffee in my veins (not stomach, mind you, veins... I'm known to hook up an IV...), and while I can't function in an environment with so many distractions, I begrudge no one their own writing process. You do you, boo.  I'll do me.

Pictured: Kevin Hart Wisdom

But there's another group that sits at coffee shops. I'm talking about the douche-bag wannabes that show up so they can make a great show of "writing" in public. Keep in mind, if you go to coffee shops to write, and actually write, I'm not talking about you.  Jog on. But, sitting near the writers, is that guy.  You know the one. I'll give you an example. 

I was at a coffee shop once, not to write but to drink coffee. As I said, I can't work in coffee shops. A fellow walked in with his hair swept up in a man-bun/topknot, an unseasonal scarf (it was summer), a wispy beard, and converse high-tops.  He was also carrying a black case, the like of which I've not seen in years, and hope to never see in motion again. He ordered his coffee (I wasn't really paying attention at this point because, as I said, I don't go to coffee shops to write) then sat down at a table.  From the case, he pulled, I kid you not, an old Royal typewriter. 

One of these bad-boys...

The first thing anyone should know about a Royal typewriter is that they're noisy as hell. I mean, they are as jarring as gunfire. Second, there is no spellcheck, no correction, and, in many cases, no auto-return.  And when you do hit return, it jars the whole table.  He loaded his paper and began his aural assault.  The writers (the real ones) that were there were greatly annoyed.  Especially when he struck up a jaunty (and loud) conversation about his latest opus, and how it was probably to forward-thinking to ever get published by a mainstream publisher, so he'd probably have to self-publish it. 

Pictured: Rage Rising

I'm not sure if he was a writer, a wannabe, or a performance artist who was parody-ing all the writers that hang out in coffee shops.  In this case, however, it was fairly obvious that whatever he was, there was one additional thing that could not be denied.  He was an ass-flapping douchebag. 

So how, I hear you ask, can I tell the writers from the non-writers?  How can I tell if I am a writer? How can I not be like Douchy McDoucherton who will assuredly win the Putz-Puller Prize of the year? Calm down.  Listen... Here's how you tell the real writers from the not so real writers. 

In my experience, most writers (in coffee shops and otherwise) are very focused on their work, and dislike being disturbed. They don't loudly talk about their work, and you rarely see them look up from their keyboards. Why? Because we're writing. Sure, we're perfectly willing to talk about our projects, but when we're working, it's not a good idea.  See, it takes a while to get into the headspace we have to be in to be creative. And if you break that concentration, we can't pick up where we left off... We have to try to get back to that place. 

But here's how to know if you are a writer:

YOU ACTUALLY WRITE.

No, really.  You don't go to show off how creative you are.  You don't draw attention to yourself in hopes that someone will want to strike up a conversation about your work. You don't act like a snob about the type of coffee or beer or whatever. You, in fact, sit your keister in a chair and you put fingers to keys, and you write. End of story. You want to be a published author? You have to write something first. You're not a writer, no matter what you do, if you don't write. No matter what you wear, what you drink, who you talk to, what school you go to, or how many books about writing you read, you are not a writer if you don't actually sit down and write. 

Yup.

So, see? It's easy to see if you're a writer.  Do you write? Yes? Then guess what.  You're a writer. By definition. Now the question is this: What kind of writer do you want to be? Bloggers are writers. Critics are writers. Novelists, poets, short-story-writers, all writers. So I guess that answers the question in the title of this post. What makes you a writer? You write. Period. What makes you a good writer? Honing your craft, educating yourself, and about a million other little things. What makes you a successful writer? Opinions vary.  Is it two parts luck to one part talent to sixteen parts tenacity? Maybe. But if you don't sit down and write, you aren't any kind of writer. 

And leave the goddamned antique typewriter at home. 

Until next time...

SAJ