Writer Frustration

Being a writer, just like being any kind of artist, is hard.

Now, I'm not saying that being a mathematician or a brain surgeon or a psychologist isn't hard.

But being an artist is hard.

To a certain degree, certain talents and jobs within the math or science realm can be quantified without belonging to a "fuzzy set" (See what I did there? Aren't you proud of me? I'm a bit proud of myself....) I should throw in the disclaimer that many of these observations are coming from someone who is not in the 'quantifiable' studies so feel free to pipe in at any time on this. But, usually, and I *really* mean usually here, (I managed to take AP Calculus, my friends)...math problems: there's a right answer, there's a wrong answer, yes? And if you get the answer right then you get an "A" on the test.

These are poor, very basic examples, but you get my drift.

Writing requires not only a thick skin, perseverance, stubbornness, and a little bit of insanity, but also self-confidence. Loads of it. Because unless we have that, all we're basing our "A's" on is what other people think of us and tell us about our writing. There is no 'correct' way to write beyond the general rules of grammar and syntax. So it's really all based on conjecture and opinion. And I don't know how many times people have told me, when I explained my future plans to them, to practice my lines: "Would you like fries with that?"

Advice like that, whether serious or not, infuriates me. Especially when it has come from people who call themselves my friends. Never let someone step on your dreams. They may be dreams that require the moon, they may be dreams that just require a book in your hands with your name on it: being able to hold that novel between your fingers and think, hey, look at that. That's me. I never did think my name would look good in print, but what do you know. It's kind of...catchy. To have people across the world read your work-- or just the people in your state...it's a tiny miracle, isn't it? I imagine so. And even then, what people like that don't realize is that writers will *always* have work, one way or another. Who was it who wrote the application that allowed the waitress to get a job at the restaurant to ask if you'd like fries with that? Hm.

Here's something I've learned about the world: there will *always* be somebody better than you. Faster, stronger, smarter, better with words; whatever it may be that you are striving towards, driving as hard as you can towards being your best and your all, you are going to meet that person who just blows you out of the water. No contest, they're just *good*, and it always seems like they're just like that naturally. Almost like they're that good just to spite you (dramatization alert).

Well let me tell you. People work hard. I do believe in raw talent, but people work hard. Every single person I have ever been envious of in their art, or their writing, or their whatever, has worked day and night on it from that one moment they found that passion. They haven't given up, they haven't listened when someone tried to tell them to quit or try something else, they haven't let criticism get them down. Because admit it-- even the most constructive criticism can be hard to hear.

The main problem with writing that I have struggled with has actually been a recent development. I wrote for a good five years before I ever encountered it. Self-esteem. Self-worth. Talent. Where does it come from and how can it be defined? Do you have it just because you say you do, or is it dependent upon others? Or is it a mix of both?

It is *so* easy to brush off the compliments and encouragement given by family and friends. Oh, they're biased...they don't really mean it...they don't want to hurt your feelings. But when they give criticism, oh, they're being honest...man, if your family doesn't even like your stuff, you really have no talent...give up now, you're never going to make it into a career or even a hobby...find something else to do. And then when someone who you think 'should know' criticizes you, it feels like the end of the world.

And if they gave you praise, what then? Would you feel instantly better about yourself? Or just until the next critic came along?

You will never please everyone, my friends. Something I have learned today-- within the past few hours, actually-- is that your fans are your fans, no matter who they are. So what if your family and friends are the only ones who like your work? They're readers too, and their opinions matter just as much as the next person. And if they're the only ones who ever like your work, is that not still precious? Are they lessened because they don't have a horde of ecstatic fans backing them? I don't think so.

Today I was told I needed to 'practice writing'. At first it made me laugh a little, just at the irony of it. Then I became a bit depressed. I thought, I *have* been practicing. I've been practicing for eight years. If those years aren't showing through, then what in the world am I doing? I thought I was an OK writer. Maybe even a good one. And then the silliness of that hit me.

Eight years. That's not even a decade. In the writer's world, I am a child just learning to put words together like macaroni beads on a piece of dental floss. And many of us are so, so young. We look at young authors who got 'discovered' and we think-- that could be me. I should be able to do that. I can do that. And I've had family members tell me I should: why can't that be you, they say? Well, in all actuality, it *could* be me. I'm not saying it's impossible. But the chances of it are a lot like winning the lottery. The majority of Americans, at some point in their lives, say they want to write a book. The percentage of those who actually do is very small, and the percentage of those who actually get published is even less (don't quote me on this because I don't remember where I read this and I can't find the book at the moment, but I think it's something like 80% say they want to write a book, about 10% actually do, and then less than 1% actually get published, something like that...) Hence, the lottery.

But has that stopped me from trying? Has that stopped any of us?

But back to the point. I'm young. Sure I've been 'practicing' for eight years. But I've got about 70 years, give or take, of writing left in me, maybe, if my mind holds together. And if medicine continues to advance like it is, why not? That is a long time. And even then, even when I'm 40 or 50-- will I be done growing? Is there a magic age where, *ding!* you've reached your peak, you're now the writer you have been craving to be and from now on will always be?

No! I guarantee you that when I'm 40 I'm going to be looking at my work thinking-- that can be better, I wonder how I can rewrite that, and then ten years down the road I'll look at it again and think, oh my, I can't believe I ever wrote as poorly as that. We are always growing and changing, from day to day. We are always practicing writing, with everything we do, every scribble we put down on paper. So really, the advice to 'practice writing' is very good advice. It's encouragement. Keep doing what you're doing. Work more often, work harder. Don't give up.

So I'm going to practice writing. I'm going to keep on keeping on, as it were.

There are thorns on the road and rough stones. We can't wear our shoes because that would ruin them (the logic makes sense, don't question it). Our feet will get dirty, cracked; they will bleed; they will ache.

But I will dance nonetheless, searching out my story, down the gravel road towards the willow tree that awaits me. And I do hope that you will dance with me.

That's all for now friends. We'll talk again soon!

Caitlyn