Why Does Critique/Rejection Hurt So Much? Pt 1

Recently, I submitted a poem to a small literary journal (for purposes of anonymity, we'll call it Small Obscure Lit Journal). For the past few months, in fact, I've been submitting to a lot of magazines and journals, because my soul craves nothing more than to be heard. Just kidding, it's because I like money. Anyway, today I got a response, and it is pictured above.

A bit of a backstory: "When It Rains" is a poem that I originally wrote for a school assignment. My teacher adored it. So I entered it in a local contest. I won second place. So I submitted it to Small Obscure Lit. It should be noted that I had no emotional investment whatsoever in whether or not "When It Rains" was accepted. I was thrilled by the idea that it might be, but overall, I truly loathe the poem. I wasn't staking anything big on this one little submission. As I found out later, had I been accepted, there wouldn't even have been monetary compensation. I've been rejected before, and it hasn't killed me.

So why, when I got this automated rejection letter, did I feel like a total failure? No one was personally attacking my writing. Publication would have been nice, but it wasn't as though I were missing out on some fabulous payment. I hadn't even put any effort into this submission. It was a recycled English asssignment.

Goethe said it well: "Every author in some way portrays himself in his works, even if it be against his will." In other words, even if it's just a silly English assignment that we write in five minutes, we still put a little bit of--- and I'm going out on a very flowery limb here--- we still put a little bit of our souls into it. So when someone says, "Eh... don't like it," we feel a little stung. To use an age-old metaphor, it's like when someone insults your son or daughter. You created this child, so how can they not be perfect?

It's tempting for me to want to pick apart every rejection letter I receive, automated though they may be. "Good luck with your writing"? What is that even supposed to mean? I imagine the editor saying it in a sarcastic voice, like, "Pfft, yeah... good luck with *that* writing."

Random stopping point, but this can be continued tomorrow because it's way too long already.

What Are Your Thoughts On Chapters?

I'm feeling particularly lazy today, so I'm taking a little poll. An informal poll, mind. Not the neat type at the bottom of the page, like the one with 7 votes for Totally Awesome (thanks for that, btw). Just a question for you to answer in the comments--- because the question's answer depends on perspective--- along with a few rambly lines of my own.

The question: Do you do chapters, when working on a novel-length work?

My rambles: I found myself thinking about chapters earlier today, and was a little confused when I realized that I don't use them. Therefore, my writing pieces are just long, continuous streams of words, separated by an occasional floating asterisk.

In my opinion, this can be a pro or a con. Pro, because it means that the writing just kind of flows along, la la la, and it can be a unique tool to constructing the unity of a work. Con, because it makes reading your writing tiring as Dell. Plus, there are no clearly defined chunks, and this may even hurt the unity of a story. You don't want a book to just drag on, not divided into any decisively organized beginning-and-end progressions. I've heard people complain about books with no chapters, because there are no defined stopping points.

So, you tell me. Pro or con? Chapters or no chapters?

The End of the Frenzy

This is a Script Frenzy winner certificate. And it is mine.

Many, many baskets of chocolate chip muffins to those of you who also lay claim to Screnzy winnership. Happy weekend, and TGIF.

Backing Up Your Work

Today my parents' computer crashed and as yet, it seems that everything saved on that computer is gone. (Reason #1 to get your own personal laptop.) This is a testimony as to why writers should always, always, always back up their work in at least three places (some of which should be non-digital). Things happen--- viruses are released, spam filters fail, small children press the wrong button, MSWord crashes. There's a particular feeling of devastation that comes with losing your work, especially when it happens to be a very long or involved piece, and here are some ways that you can prevent that.

• Save your work. Every few minutes, just click ctrl-S and your work saves. It becomes second nature, so it may seem annoying at first but it'll be worth it.
• Don't open suspicious emails, don't click icons, immediately exit questionable sites. As preventative healcare, take precautions. You don't need an adorable new mouse icon, nor do you need to bring your monitor to life with bird-festooned screensavers. You certainly don't need to view your possible matches for free, today. I don't care if y0uu Have : 7 new crushs, clickk n0w t0 meet!!. Exit the browser ASAP.
• Use a USB or similar device. Get a handy gadget, insert it into your computer routinely, and save your most important documents onto it. Unless you drop it in a pool or something foolish like that, this is an easy, failsafe way to save your work. It's also useful to have all your work stored in one place, and is especially helpful if you're ever in a situation where you want to bring pieces of your writing, but can't/don't want to tote your laptop.
• Print copies. It's a pain to print large documents, and it would be positively hellish ton retype a 50+k manuscript if your computer crashed, but it's better than nothing. In the case of lengthy pieces, I try to have at least a couple chapters of a hard copy.
• EMAIL IT TO YOURSELF. This, as far as I can tell, is the best way to ensure that no work is ever destroyed. Emails are accessible anywhere there's wifi, so you won't lose it should your computer crash. If you're feeling iffy about attachments, paste the whole manuscript. Ideally, you'd email your manuscript to yourself at several different addresses, or send it to several trustworthy friends as well. That way, if your email were to ever be hacked, it would still be intact.

Daily prompt: Hardly a prompt, but go and back up your most important work in at least one way. Hopefully you'll never need to thank me for telling you to do this, because in a perfect world, computers would never crash, but better safe than sorry. In the comments, feel free to post a cautionary tale or your best method of backing up your work.

Shiny New Idea Syndrome

Everyone's suffered from Shiny New Idea Syndrome, whether they know it or not. SNIS is what happens when you're just going along, maybe you've got a writing piece of 25-100pgs, and you're committed to it. Then you get a crazy awesome, tantalizing new idea. Like mermaids in space. Or ducks in a court of law. Something that just grips you.

You sit down, write three paragraphs about Starfish (the mermaid who dreams of working for NASA), and then go eat dinner. The next day, you're eager to return to the adventures of Starfish and friends. But when you open up the Word file and try to continue where you left off, you realize you're stumped. Suddenly, it seems like a dooming prospect indeed to document the story of our finned wannabe astronaut.

SNIS happens to the best of us. It also happens to the worst of us, like me. The best metaphor I can think of for it is that it's like having an affair after a solid, ten-year marriage. You can't just slack off a commitment because an appealing new entity presents itself. You have to hold up your end of the deal, and you have to resist temptation.

This is not to say that all ideas stemming from SNIS are bad. As we know, there are no bad ideas, only bad ways of expressing them. (Human falling in love with a vampire? Not a bad idea. Angsty ingrate becoming obsessed with a sparkly vegetarian who likes to play baseball during thunderstorms? Bad way of expressing it.) So how do you pick out the good ideas from the absurd, ducks-in-court ideas?

To paraphrase Jodi Picoult, the good ideas are the ones that you can't stop thinking about. It's easy to forget about Starfish's intergalactic ambitions. But when a really doable, engaging concept grasps you, it'll be the one that won't let go. That's what writing is about: not creating something because you can or because it's easy, but because you have to.

Also, because it's cool to have a job where you wear your pajamas and eat snacks all day.

Forewords From the Future

[There was no post on Friday, because I thought it may be against my religion to blog on Good Friday. There was no post Saturday or Sunday, because I've decided to be a work-week blogger only, so as to feel more professional. There was no post on Monday, because I am a lazy, lazy person.]

 

Today's post is going to be brief, and detail a helpful exercise that I've devised for myself. It's an exercise in positive thinking, and it's also fun. And sometimes it helps to brainstorm new plot threads.

 

We all have projects that we want a little bit of a push to actually get off the ground, and sometimes all that these projects need is a little background. You can begin by imagining yourself as a published writer. The story that you're working on has blossomed into a full-blown novel, which in turn captured the hearts of millions and became an international bestseller. (Not just national. International.) Also, you used some royalties to buy a little villa on the shore, and now you spend your days sipping lattes and answering fan mail on the porch. Did I mention you're doing a book tour next month? You can indulge in this fantasy for as long as you want, because it is a pretty awesome fantasy.

 

So now sink a little bit deeper into this fantasy. Your publisher has contacted you, and they want to print a second edition of your novel. This edition will feature lots of exclusive new bonus material: an interview with you (ooh), new cover art (aah), a code to get some online swag (eee), and... a foreword, written by you. Oh.

 

So set the latte down for a sec, because you don't want it spilling on your brand-new, classy writing software. And get to work on that foreword.

 

Now back to present day. It may seem silly to try and write a book's foreword when you haven't actually, you know, finished writing the book. But for me, at least, it's much easier than it sounds. Here's a quick list detailing the perks of writing exclusive bonus material for a book you haven't finished.

 

• You can be however pretentious you want. You're a published author now. It's cool if you feel super-good about yourself. Legions of devoted readers won't hang you out to dry just because you use language that might be flowery or conceited.
• It gives you confidence. Once a book has a backstory, once you've established it somehow, you have an incentive to press forward. Give yourself something solid to base your framework upon, like, "I remember the day I thought of this concept..." or, "This novel began as a tiny idea on a rainy Monday..." or, "I spent full hours locked in my room, working on this story..."
• It gives you somewhere to start. It's always hard to start from scratch, but a 1-or-2-page forward flows out of you with very little effort, and even better, then you have something more than just a blank page. You have some expectations for yourself.
• It's like an outline, but more fun. You don't have to adhere to any particular format, and of course you can change whatever you want as your story develops. You may be surprised at how helpful this can be.
• It really, truly is enjoyable. Who hasn't written a letter to their future child, or a poem for a someday spouse, or a diary entry set fifteen years from now? The fact is, it's a little thrilling, especially at this age, to imagine the future. There aren't many limits for you at all, and every day they diminish further. It's America, it's the twenty-first century, and you're you. So pull out all the stops, because the possibilities really do border upon endless.

Daily prompt: Choose a WIP that you need a bit of a push on, and do the exercise detailed below. Post letters of <1000 words below, because they're just as fun to read as they are to write.

PS But you might want to wait until May. After all, it's script-writing month.

Just Because You Can Doesn't Mean You Should

Picture this. I'm all set to go to the beach with my squadrons of devoted friends. I'm rocking capris and a tshirt, clogs, and a tasteful sun hat. In my trusty tote bag, I've got my swimsuit, and a jacket in case it cools down.

Now picture this. My capris have "Pink" written on the butt, and my tshirt is emblazoned with "Aero 87 NY." My clogs try to be inconspicuous, with "Ugg" printed on the back. I keep coughing and muttering, "My hat's from American Eagle. It was $20." My tote bag screams "Coach." It holds my swimsuit, unabashedly sporting the Abercrombie logo, and my jacket, which has "Hollister" scrawled on the front.

Tone. It. Down.

Seriously. These are all great brands. I don't even have a problem with wearing several of them together--- maybe even all of them--- provided that the brand names aren't all being flaunted in this commercialized way. Let's be honest. When I show up at the beach wearing this ensemble, I look like a billboard with glasses. (Anne Klein glasses, for the record.)

 

Writing is like dressing in name brands. They can both be uncomfortable, and they both come with social implications. Most importantly, you absolutely cannot overdo it. Because then it becomes tacky.

 

You need to have self-confidence. You need to have enough security in your self-image that you can wear your second-best shoes to school. You have to have enough security in yourself as a writer that you don't need to use gimmicks to prove it to the rest of the world.

 

You need to be aware of tone. There's a time and a place for everything. You need to be able to say to yourself, "Okay. I'm staying home and watching tv and eating marshmallows. I can shelve the wedges and wear bedroom slippers." You need to be able to say, "Okay. I'm writing from the POV of a recently orphaned gangster. I can let the SAT words take a little time off."

 

There's a tone to this blog post. It's a chatty, personal tone. It's not the same tone that I use when I'm writing a research paper. Both tones are acceptable in different situations, much in the way that it's inappropriate to wear flip-flops during the winter. Trust me. This *is* inappropriate. I've tried it.

 

You need to accept imperfection. There might be a better, classier way to phrase something, but you need to think about the context of what you're writing. You don't need to imbue every paragraph with mellifluously flowing description, depending on what you're writing about, because that's called purple prose. Parallel sentence structure and alliteration and other literary devices--- use them at the respective time, because overkill is not glamourous. And that mellifluous imbuing thing = overkill. You don't want to be that girl who colour-coordinates her bracelets with her socks. (Okay, so I do that. We're all works in progress.)

 

You need to avoid pretension/pretentiousness, and use discretion. Don't bloat your writing when you're writing a brief, casual scene; don't drench yourself in makeup and jewelry for a trip to the grocery store. All the metaphor and innuendo--- all the eyeshadow and dangly earrings--- should be saved for when you're really trying to make an impression.

 

Of course, you always want to dress to look your best. And you always want your writing to be the best that it can be. But it's all about security. You need to believe that you're pretty, and you look just as good in a tshirt and leggings as you do in dark denim and a form-fitting top. You need to believe that your writing speaks for itself, and you're not trying to prove anything. Yes, you have the means to pay $90 for Abercrombie jeans. Yes, you have the writing skills to make every sentence drip with magic. But not every occasion calls for that. So deduce which ones do and which don't, and dress accordingly.

 

Daily prompt: Take an excerpt from your own writing (or write something entirely new) and break it down. Phrase everything the simplest way possible; no complex sentence structure, and no words with more than two or so syllables. Though the writing will probably not be improved by this exercise, and it plausibly could suffer, this will help you to analyze yourself, and maybe discern where you need to tone it down. Remember, always save both drafts--- as demonstrated by my huffy post yesterday, you'll regret it if you don't--- and feel free to post before-and-afters of <1000 words in the comments below. Happy first day of Easter break!