ManicDDaily

How do you inure yourself to criticism?  How do you view it as instructive rather than destructive?    (Note that when I  say “you”, I mean me.  This is a task I find truly difficult.)

When I first considered this question, I thought of a cockroach—something with not just a thick skin, but a hard carapace.  A creature that is at the height of evolutionary sustainability.  A survivor.

But I can’t quite stomach becoming more cockroach-like, and I don’t think I can advise it for you either.   Because, aside from its general lack of appeal, a cockroach scurries away from any bright light, which is exactly what a lot of criticism feels like–a too-bright light shone right into your eyes, or on your weak spots (that flap of flab at the back of a thigh.  Or worse, if you’re a writer:  those awkward transitions, that plot that just isn’t credible, that character, based on you, who’s simpering and inane.

The fear of criticism, or the experience of criticism, can be an old-style Berlin Wall to a struggling writer.  Not only is it an obstacle between your desire to work and your ability to work;  it is also a wall between the two halves of yourself—the half that really does want to learn and grow and improve, and the half which wants anything you do, no matter how flawed, to be called brilliant, at least, good enough.

Because I’m so bad at this, I can only give a few random clues as to how to get better:

1.  Don’t show work too early.  It can be both humiliating and paralyzing to have your reader point out problems that you would have caught yourself if you’d only waited a few weeks beyond the glow of completion.

2.   Take care to whom you show things.  It’s helpful if you truly believe that your reader respects you and your abilities, no matter what they say about the particular piece.

3.  Try to focus on what you can learn from a specific critique.   Keep in mind that even if some criticism may not be fully justified, it may still point out something that doesn’t fully work.

4.  After due consideration, if you feel your work is good, hold your ground.  Consider your reader’s perspective and taste.  Is it the same as yours?  Is it infallible?

5.  Distance yourself.  Those words on the page are not you.  What you wrote yesterday is not you today.  There are countless ways to skin a cat; it takes all types to make a world.  Which means—yes, you can revise it (no matter how impossible that feels).

6.  When all the above has been tried, and you really just can’t bear any more, scurry into a dark crevice.   But don’t just wait till it’s safe to come out again.  Work from there.  Keep working even from there.

For more on Writer’s Block, check other posts in this category.  And, as always, check out 1 Mississippi by Karin Gustafson, on Amazon or at link on ManicDDaily home page.