Wednesday, June 23, 2010

A Place Between Doubt and Despair

I'm actually just kidding about the title of this blog post. Sort of.

Yesterday, that guy known as BLD around here wondered how to deal with doubt. I commented back that I wrote a million words and then found a surer voice that got rid of the doubt.

Most of the time.

Sometimes, my voice is surer in comedy. My roots are in comedy . . . that voice is more natural for me. Doubt is rarely present in my dialogue. Instead doubt sprinkles its way through larger arcs. Through themes that nudge at me.

Of course, the other element of this is the work ethic. When you go through an editorial process, there is, at least in my experience, a fermenting of wine. You take time to polish, send, get feedback from (in my case) my writers' group, then an agent, then an editor--or more than one editor. That time process exposes flaws. Then you get copy edited, then proofed--twice. You read your galleys. Each time in the process you have doubts, you polish. You don't leap in and publish before all those steps. I presume as more people pub e-books, they will invest in a "process"--create one that mimics the polishing a traditionally published book undergoes. And those e-books will stand out from the ones where exposure to criticism hasn't occurred.

So, as always, it becomes, for me, about that still, small voice. Have you ever met a writer at a conference without one? You know that writer. The one who asks fifty people to read his or her work, but any time someone offers suggestions, they shrug them off--the excuses can be varied, but it almost always amounts to an unwillingness to believe there is more craft to be learned. This writer plunges headlong--often quickly. The writer who queries without ever once exposing their novel to a read by another writer or editor who can offer pointed, constructive criticism.

Somewhere between doubt and headlong stubbornness lies the place where I think writers need to reside. It is a place. A Writer's Place. Where the writer presents their best work and then exposes it to make it better, where the writer can discern what advice is ringing true--even if it means starting from page one AGAIN--and what advice is subjectively just a different view point and doesn't carry as much weight. Doubt can be a good thing, as long as you eventually arrive at the Writer's Place where you can separate personal fears that hold you back from the hard work of bettering your words.

I'm working harder on my wip than I ever have on anything before. And I dance around panic. Frequently. But I'm working at finding that space where it's really about making it better. The Writer's Place.

18 comments:

Mark Terry 8:55 AM, June 23, 2010  

Excellent post today, timely. I don't know quite how to get to that place. I'm flailing around a lot with my wip, and part of the problem is that it's more ambitious than other projects I've worked on, which creates another level of doubt.

I suspect I need to listen for the little voice whispering--I know exactly which one you're talking about--that is the most accurate, rather than the panicky shouting one screaming, "Are you nuts! This is a mess! Do something else! Quick!"

At least, I hope so.

Erica Orloff 9:04 AM, June 23, 2010  

Mark:
Lurker Monkey seems to be my conscience lately. But I know that voice is there somewhere. I, too, am like. "WTF was I thinking?" My book now has been split into two distinct parts. The second is insanely out of my comfort level and raises more damn complications than I perhaps thought. The first part of the book was, as a way of describing it, almost like a 2-person play. Very insular. Now, I have popped them into another world, in essence.

But I, too, suspect it's just the panic and the audacity of it, and if I remember the million words, I will find my footing.

Mark Terry 9:20 AM, June 23, 2010  

Yeah, you should read my blog today. It's an internal monologue I wrote trying to hack my way out of the creative thicket.

Erica Orloff 9:39 AM, June 23, 2010  

Mark:
Off to read!

Melanie Hooyenga 1:49 PM, June 23, 2010  

I think I shall tack this to my monitor.

Nadine 2:05 PM, June 23, 2010  

Great post. A while back, I beta'd for an old friend and pointed out several plot mistakes, confusing moments, out-of-character sentences etc. Instead of fixing them, he e-mailed me explaining each one. Oh well, I tried.

Kath Calarco 2:41 PM, June 23, 2010  

The first time I asked someone to read one of my manuscripts, his feedback was kind, as he pointed out a dangling modifier, calling it "a howler." He also suggested that I join RWA, which exposed me to wonderful people who are now friends, as well as some really mean ones who spent too much time as wanna-be editors. I'm no longer with RWA, but I've kept the friends. :)

All in all, throughout my writing journey I've learned that I'll NEVER know it all, to embrace doubts as my friend and tell the ugly inner critic to go 'f himself. :-)

Anonymous 3:04 PM, June 23, 2010  

Thanks for this post, it really cleared some things up for me. :-)

Jon VanZile 3:20 PM, June 23, 2010  

I don't know if this makes any sense, but as I'm going along in my new book, I feel a bit like I'm holding my nose against a grindstone. This isn't to say I'm not enjoying it ... it's more like I'm forcing myself to write against "type." So this book doesn't really have a lot of the things I think I usually do well—the setting isn't fully fleshed out, the plot is still a work in progress, there's very little description.

They say an army can only march as fast as its slowest guy ... and I think the same is true for a book. It's only as good as its worst element. Perhaps that's harsh, but maybe also true. I don't set books down because they have beautiful settings or wonderful plots. I set them down because I can no longer tolerate their weakness, whatever it might be.

So here's where I am now: writing a book that caters to my weakness, rubbing against it like a blister, because it's the only way I know how to make that particular muscle stronger.

Ewoh Nairb 4:16 PM, June 23, 2010  

Timely and precise as usual. I'm not sure that I have yet found a voice I am sure about, and that screaming banshee in my head gets completely muted whenever I get feedback on my writing. I know better than to defend, despite the banshee's wailing :) What I do know for sure is that if I don't explore the uncomfortable in my writing (style or content), I'm sure that it will come across as stale and unoriginal.

Erica Orloff 4:33 PM, June 23, 2010  

Melanie:


:-)

Erica Orloff 4:34 PM, June 23, 2010  

Nadine:
When people do that to me, I stop beta-reading for them. My time is scarce and it is an annoying thing to run into someone who is just looking for accolades.

Erica Orloff 4:35 PM, June 23, 2010  

Kath:
Love it. That's a blog post in itself!

Erica Orloff 4:35 PM, June 23, 2010  

Hey BLD:

Doubt is a writer's companion. Most of us anyway.

Erica Orloff 4:36 PM, June 23, 2010  

Lurker:
Wow . . . that is an amazing observation.

I sure hope I know what the hell I am doing in my book.

E

Erica Orloff 4:36 PM, June 23, 2010  

ewoh:

Writing is like constantly picking at a scab.

Travis Erwin 10:15 PM, June 23, 2010  

I constantly dwell in that deep dark place in which you describe.

Heather Kelly 7:33 AM, June 24, 2010  

Erica--I find such wisdom here. Thank you. I know that I haven't been commenting as much--I haven't been adding to the discussion recently, but I always find something to take away from your posts. And this one was brilliant. THANK YOU.


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