So you’ve written your first poem … short story … novel chapter. You’re dying for someone to read it.
Who’s the first person you show it to? Your mom … sister … boyfriend … girlfriend.
Bad idea.
Oh I’ve done that most of my life, so I’ve learned this one the hard way. It’s just a bad bad idea.
My first short stories and poems were written when I was still a teenager, so it was natural to show them to Mom. She had no idea what I was trying to do, and said, Marion, I get the feeling you take a lot of pleasure in confusing people.
In my 20s, I went through a period of showing my work to people I respected, or who I thought would understand. Baaaaad ideas. One woman, a college professor from eastern North Carolina, sent me a scathing letter criticizing every word I sent her. As if making her point ultra clear, she wrote in conclusion: These poems are unpublishable.
Writing means take big risks and most of us are too afraid. That’s why our All-American novels sit in boxes or never make it onto paper.
A few times in my life I’ve managed to take the kind of risks that pay off in writing. One of them came in 1995 when I sold all of my belongings and moved with my beloved tabby cat, Norma Jeane, to Prague.
There (along with some day-trippers) was a small, serious group who also gave up a lot to move to Prague. It was a priceless time for me to live in a rarefied world where writing was everything.
These days, I have one or two close writer friends with whom I can share my work. They understand what I’m trying to do and respect my voice. They are also professionals who know good writing from bad. They will level with me and not tear me down; give me inspiration without letting me be lazy.
More than anything, writers long for approval and yes, even love. If we really want to write anything of value, we have to give up those ideas completely.
What a beautifully realized and from-the-heart blog post. Thank you for expressing sentiments that all writers have felt.
Now, BACK TO WORK!