Entitled and Uncomfortable (FightWrite™)
Book reviews are precious to us authors. For one, nothing sells a reader a book as much as another reader saying why it’s worth buying. Also, to us as professionals, reviews show us how our work is landing. We can read in black and white what’s working and what isn’t. We can see if we connected with our intended audience and how we impacted an audience we never knew we had. Reviews teach writers what they could never learn otherwise. And sometimes, reviews teach us something about ourselves that we didn’t know we needed to learn.
(Holiday Fight Scene Helper (FightWrite™))
Recently I read a review on my second book that caught me off-guard. I was surprised by not only what was written but by my own response to it. I’m still processing how it landed with me. In fact, up until this writing, I’ve only told my sister and husband about it. This post is my attempt to digest it. So, buckle up. This is going to be all vulnerable and emotionally icky. And as a hive I will need y’all to agree on something. Repeat after me: We listen and we don’t judge. From here on out, I will just type L👍J 👎 to remind you because you will need reminding.
OK, here we go.
The entire review was 173 words. The part that struck such a chord was a mere seven. Those words were: Carla Hoch is a very good writer.
That’s it. That’s the statement that hit me like a wet towel. When I read it, my head shifted back on my neck, and I put my hand on my chest. Now, those who’ve read my book, Fight Write, Round Two, know those movements are all signs of discomfort. Specifically, my adrenal system was telling my body to move back from the words and put a shield up as a second line of defense. To further punctuate the emotion of the moment, I teared up.
Why? It’s a good thing to hear. A wonderful thing to hear! Why did my brain think I needed protection?
That’s when the bitter truth of it landed. I’m not sure I have ever considered myself good at writing. Yes, I know that sounds crazy. L👍J 👎 How am I writing in the Writer’s Digest Blog if I’m not a good, well, that thing I just said?
I’ve heard many positive things of my work over the years. For that I am thankful. But I’m not sure I’ve heard those seven words specifically. And I guess rather than deriving from those positive comments that I’m a (hard swallow) good writer, I’ve assumed that people enjoyed my writing despite my not being good at it. L👍J 👎
Now, I don’t mean to brag, but I’ve been in a lot of therapy. Like, tons of it. When something impacts me in a way that it is unexpected, I’ve learned to sit with my response to it. I pick my reaction apart, overlook the bang of it, and focus on what lit the fuse to begin with.
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So, rather than trying to flesh out the truth of the statement, I decided to first figure out what being a good writer meant to me. What did that look like in my mind? If I knew that, then I could at least see where I saw myself falling short. I came up with three things that good writers have, and I don’t. L👍J 👎
One: I don’t write fiction.
Two: I don’t have a large catalogue of work.
Three: I’m a niche writer.
Unfortunately, none of those three things defined what it is to be a good writer. I had jumped over the deepest question, which I do pretty often. I still needed to know what it was to be good at this craft. I reached out on social media to writers and readers alike to see how they defined a good writer. Here is the amalgam of those responses.
Good writers work very hard. They press on even when writing ceases to be fun or easy because the path to greatness includes neither. Good writers are willing to learn and not afraid to fail. They work to make their natural ability a skill. In fact, the greater part of being a good writer is neither ability nor skill but grit and determination. Good writers do not give up. They write badly, rewrite exhaustively and submit their work quietly, boldly and fearfully hopeful.
Good writers are great story tellers and they tell the story by showing it. They incorporate all the senses, bring the reader into the story and make them a part of the journey. They have something to say, don’t shy away from the realness of life and create characters fully fleshed literally and figuratively. And somehow, in some magical way, a good writer can give readers the entire backstory of a character with the first line from the character’s mouth.
Good writers know story trumps all. They leave personal agendas by the side of the road and drive madly into, yet within the boundaries of, their created world. They use their words efficiently and wield them with a practiced technique. They know grammar and punctuation makes for solid communication. They also know characters don’t speak with either in mind.
Good writers write stories that keep us reading, keep us turning pages. They make us angry at the characters, cry alongside them, root for them and cheer at their triumph and demise. All the while, a good writer maintains their voice throughout the work. And if a reader doesn’t like the work, if they leave a bad review, a writer doesn’t step out of the story and use their voice to lash out. Because, at the end of the day, a good writer releases ownership of their story to all who read it.
Good writers are portal creators. They are mirrors of society and the human condition. And, somehow, though they seek to reflect the real world, good writers provide us all with an escape from it.
Not one thing any reader/writer said agrees with what I had determined a good writer to be. Not one comment mentioned how many books a writer has published. No one delineated between fiction and nonfiction writers. Yes, there was much said about characters, but if you read a lot of nonfiction (and I do), you know they read like a story. In fact, some of my favorite books are nonfiction, which, by default, means some of my favorite writers are nonfiction writers.
No one’s assessment of a good writer agrees with the standards by which I have judged myself. Yes, I am a niche writer. I teach writers how to write fight scenes so, actually, I’m a niche within a niche. Does that make me any less a writer? I help writers make their work the best it can be. Just because it is a small part of their work doesn’t mean it’s any less valuable.
Also, my existence within a tiny part of the Venn diagram where writing and fighting intersect doesn’t mean I have no right to exist in the broader parts that do not cross. I’m a writer. I get to say that. I get to own that. For Pete’s sake, Writer’s Digest endorses me and allows me to wear their reputation on my books, my teaching, my articles, and their blog posts. If I’m not a real writer than I am a real con artist because I have fooled Writer’s Digest, the exemplar of craft. Good glory, if I can’t pat myself on the back for anything else, it can surely be that!
So, in summary, which is a fairly elementary way to end an article, but you know what, L👍J 👎. In summary, I get to say that I’m a good writer. Does that mean I’m comfortable with it? No. Even now as I type the words, I’m rolling my lips in over my teeth. Does my discomfort make it any less so? No, it doesn’t.
I can’t speak for anyone but me. And none of you reading this might relate. But I’m willing to bet there’s at least one of you out there who does. If you don’t believe you are a good writer, decide first what that statement means to you. If any part of your definition is about anything but actual writing, then maybe like me, you aren’t so much bad at being a writer as you are good at measuring yourself by a standard that doesn’t even exist.
I’m a good writer. I’m a really good writer. And that means sometimes I will write nonsense. Heck, this post might be proof of that. L👍J 👎 It also means that I will keep writing. Yes, next month, I will be here. Warts and all, here I shall be. Because what a good writer is really bad at is quitting. Let me assure you, I do not quit. For me, believing I can’t do a thing has never kept me from doing it. I have a very long history of doing what I can’t do.
So, until next month, when I may yet again schlep all my emotional gunk out for the world to see, L👍J 👎, I leave you with two questions and a challenge for the coming year: What does being a good writer mean to you? What does that look like? Write it down. Go ahead.
Now here’s your challenge: This year, write as if you are all the things on that list.
Until the next round with FightWrite on the WD Blog, L👍J 👎.