Validation

An anonymous troll left a nasty comment for me yesterday on my blog. This blog has, for me, always been about mostly craft, occasionally motherhood, a little about industry, a little about spirituality, life, and so on. What amuses me so much is that I blogged about my book and its journey--for me. In the five years I have blogged, I have had two nasty anonymous comments (yesterday's included), one proposal from a soldier in Iraq (sorry, buddy . . . it's a no), and one person who sent me what I considered an intrusive note about Demon Baby. For five years, that's not a bad record.

And I wonder if so much of the sniping that goes on is still people searching for validation as writers. As I blogged not too long ago, if you want to create a book about your grocery lists for the last ten years, go ahead. If you want to publish your grocery lists and call yourself an author . . . well, go ahead. Am I going to buy it? Not likely. Would I buy a Kindle book by this guy? Heck, yeah. And really . . . go buy his books.

The funny thing? I feel very "validated" when I see my Magickeepers hardcover books (which, Troll, earned out before the second one was even published), or my shelves of books, spine out, my name there. But I loathe signings, hate public speaking . . . don't like doing appearances. I am not "validated" by that. And I am a thousand times more thrilled when I hear from kids, or if kids approach me in public here in my hometown and ask, "Are you Erica Kirov?" than I ever feel from grownups (hence, as long-time know, my often saying I am an actuary when I am out in public--which is even more hilarious now that I actually KNOW an actuary!).

When I edit people's manuscripts . . . I have had MANY an unpublished author say, "Wow . . . this process made me feel like a real writer. This was so cool."

For some it's process. For some it's critique groups. For some it's a by-line on a website. We search for external validation in some fashion or another. But in the end, I have this blog because I AM a writer. It's how I process the world, and while I enjoy my own journey . . . the validation is just a piece of it. I have a half-dozen "almost finished" books that I abandoned (maybe for now, maybe forever), and let me tell you, though they may never, ever see the light of day . . .

I still had a ball writing them. :-)

But mostly . . . namaste. Because I really don't need nasty anonymous posters. This is a blog for craft and life.

Expectations

When I was sixteen and trying to decide what I wanted to be when I grew up, I had pretty much settled on a doctor. My dad talked me into being a writer. I remember the conversation, in our living room. He had a scotch, was sitting in the blue chair. I remember it like it was yesterday. "I don't know, Erica, about being a doctor. All that science--you sure you have a passion for it? I really think you should be a writer. You're a good writer. Very good." Now, in thinking about it, I don't know whether that was somewhat cultural, i.e., he respected the great "classic" writers as a Russian. Or gender (he was convinced I would never get married if I was in medical school and then a residency until I was almost 30). Or he just thought I was a decent writer. But what still amazes me is encouraged me to pursue a profession where it's pretty much guaranteed you'll always be hustling for work or starving.

However, what REALLY got me thinking about parental and familial expecatations is TWICE this week someone said to me the third-most often comment when they hear I am a writer. Number one is, of course, "I have a great idea for a book." Number two is the old, "So what do you write?" And coming in at number three . . . "I always wanted to be a writer, but my father was a lawyer and it was expected that I go to law school" (you can fill in any other profession . . . or if no profession then, "My parents encouraged me to find something you could count on.")

And when they TALK about writing, their faces get almost . . . euphoric. And so I always feel a bit sad for people who aren't really doing what they want to be doing. And of course, there's this idea that they DON'T do it because it's not paying (i.e., they abandoned it entirely and aren't even writing for pleasure or with an eye toward breaking in as a second or side career).

So often, we let others' expectations alter our sails. We start shifting in the water, steering toward some other island, some other place than our heart's true desires. I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that the first time I got married it was because that's what was expected. It wasn't anything outright (all right, there was ONE conversation that stuck in my mind). But at every family gathering, people asked, "So have you met anyone yet?" and "You're not getting any younger, you know"--and for the record, is ANYONE getting any younger?

I don't ever do that anymore. I try to take a quiet moment with myself and discern what it is I really want. Without the pressures of what I think everyone else wants. It isn't always easy. But after years and years of practice, my internal voice is pretty damn loud.

So tell me, on this path of writing, have you ever been swayed by others' expectations? How did you choose your "day job" if you work at something else? How do you stay true to yourself?

It Gets Better!

I brought two chapters of my work in progress to my writers' group last night--and they really liked it. I was so fired up from their comments, I wrote almost another whole chapter last night.

Yes, as a writer, it doesn't get much better than that--both feeling so excited that it flows, and the group liking it.

We work so hard, laboring in solitude, that external validation is very nice sometimes. But I thought I would share the above because maybe people find it weird that a writer with nearly twenty books published--on shelves of bookstores! (let me tell you, that feels weird sometimes)--and who has had some major magazine coverage or blurbs--like Cosmopolitan and US Weekly--would be most validated by two people who read a work in progress that hasn't sold and hasn't even been SHOWN to her agent. But that's the truth. Honest to God.

You know, I remember when I got in Cosmopolitan. I happened to be in NYC. I was standing in Duane Reade, buying other crap when someone--I think my editor--called to tell me I got in. So I bought Cosmo, too. I stood on line and it all felt surreal. Then I turned to the page where they said Spanish Disco was "hilarious." It still felt surreal.

I get fan email every week. I love hearing from people, but they are strangers . . . and in a way, that's validating--I touched them somehow--but that ALSO feels surreal.

And in the end, maybe it's me, or the group dynamic, but knowing my group likes it just resonates inside.

So . . . does anything about writing give you external validation?