If you’ve done anything creative that you knew, deep down, would one day have to be pushed out into the wide world, then you’re probably already familiar with that creeping sense of dread that wraps itself around you when it comes to actually sharing a piece that you - that’s right, YOU - conceived.
No matter the artistic form - art, writing, poetry, film, video, podcasts - the fear that comes with actually releasing it into the wild is unlike any other because it stops being inherently yours, and becomes something totally different that is out of your control.
But where does that ingrained sense of dread emanate from?
Is it from a lack of faith in your project? The fear of judgement? Or is it the worry that your piece won’t meet the apparent criteria; the bar of quality that others have attained and subsequently set, planting their flag as a recognised successful ‘standard?'
In my experience writing, querying, seeking representation, dealing with rejection, and seeking feedback with beta-readers, my social media timelines have always been fit to burst with authorly opinions, agentised thoughts, and publishatron observations offering tips, advice, and knowledge for the wayward writer seeking counsel.
The opinions and advice of those that have ‘made it’ can easily inundate and overwhelm you, especially if you follow a number of them on social media.
It creates a whirlpool of industry advice, a confusing torrent of inspiration that will either inspire or plague you over what the big scary Market (capital M, thank you very much) ‘wants’ from the humble un-agented writer with no contacts.
It cobbles together a hodge-podge tapestry of insider information from those who have walked the path before you as to what people are supposedly looking for, what agents are seeking in their Manuscript Wishlists (#MSWL), and what publishers consider to be saleable.
The fear of writing something that doesn’t tick everybody’s openly public subjective boxes might lead you to contemplate an undeniable creative sin: compromising your voice and style.
This awareness of what people want/are looking for has birthed a sense of anxiety which, when coupled with that dread cloak mentioned earlier (now available in a rather fetching maroon) has seen me spiral into a self-doubt and worry destruction derby, where I question whether the story I have created, am creating, or will create is any ‘good’ and fret whether anybody will actually connect with the story enough to want to represent it, let alone publish it, or whether they will read it and become frustrated because a lack of [insert subjective taste/opinion here].
I’ve had a number of positive/negative rejections now that kindly highlight the potential seen in Temporary, with compliments extending from the likability of its protagonist to the writing style itself. But it still hasn’t crossed paths with the right person who not only feels that way but actually connects enough with the story to want to help bring it into the world.
The fear of writing something that doesn’t tick everybody’s openly public subjective boxes might lead you to contemplate an undeniable creative sin: compromising your voice and style.
You cannot allow yourself to become stymied because what you’ve written doesn’t meet the individual expectations of the person you’re querying.
First and foremost, you must be true to your voice. This will let you then be true to your story. If you sacrifice either, the whole thing falls apart and becomes a transparent attempt to placate the masses with diluted work.
You can’t please everybody. No matter how much you want everybody to love the ‘thing’ that you create, craft, hone and share.
You want everyone you show to see the merit of the work you’ve put in as you puff out your chest, fit to burst with pride, as a kid might do with their scribbled drawing, primed and ready for the fridge door.
Taste, however, is subjective, as are those checkboxes of the people you’re sharing your work with/querying/being rejected by - that’s a truth I’m sure you don’t need reminding of, but there’s your daily Public Service Announcement highlighting it, nonetheless. You can leave a tip in the jar on the way out if you like. I know I’d appreciate it, chief.
It’s an old adage, but one that rings true as much now as when it was first conceived:
“You can please some of the people all of the time, you can please all of the people some of the time, but you can’t please all of the people all of the time.” - John Lydgate
So you might as well write the story you want to tell. Nobody else will. By all means, seek the wisdom of those that came before, but the lesson I'm learning is this:
You don’t have to listen to every scrap of information you find, just like you shouldn't ignore it all. Take what you want, leave what you don’t, and persevere with the story you want to - have to - tell.
That’s how I ended up writing a socially conscious/societal commentary superhero story and a supernatural Demon Noir detective novel.
Because I wrote the stories I wanted to write.
Now, finding that right person to help me bring it into the world? That's a different story. But you can't get to that stage without writing the damn thing in the first place.
Steve Russell
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