The Best and Worst
For many, the best and worst part about writing is that it is a solitary activity. You, the author, are the only one who knows the story you want to tell, the only one who can describe what your mind sees, the only one who knows when the word you write is the right word. While in the act of writing you cannot interact with others to much degree because concentration and focus are key in getting the words out. Depending on what you are writing, a single completed piece may take days, months, or even years to complete. That means many hours set aside to be alone with your laptop or notebook, your determination and your ideas. That time is important. The very act of creating something so important and so intimate, that comes directly from the innermost parts of you is liberating and powerful. It is not meant to be shared.
I do not know why I was born with a need to write. Not everyone is born this way. I wonder if it was a natural habit to develop given my awkward childhood shyness or if spending all my time reading books and writing stories made me a loner and shy around people. I suppose someone, someday, will think that is worthy of study. Yet, what I am learning as I grow in this craft is that writing is a lot more collaborative than I thought.
That is the best and worst of it for me. Yes, you can write your story alone, completely alone, if that is what you prefer, but I am finding my writing is even better when I have a partner to read, critique and push me to the next level. Even if you write the entire story alone, if you are intent on publishing, you will have to send it to beta readers for review and feedback before sending it to an agent and a publisher, all of whom are going to read and edit and pick apart your work. It takes a great deal of people to get an idea from a story to a published work.
I struggle with other people reading my fiction. I do not know why other than I am not confident that it is good. It is not that I hate failing (though I do), I just really feel like I should be at a certain level before I even bother other people with my work. I do not know what that level is yet but I do not feel I have reached it. I find this strange because I have no problem writing here, about my life, and having anyone who happens by reading it. Why am I so reluctant to share my other writing?
That is why that fiction contest I entered was such a major step for me. Not only did I ask a friend to read my entry before I sent it in but an entire panel of judges read it. And I paid extra for them to send me a critique on it! This was a huge step.
I heard last week that I did not make the final cut of the contest. I will learn later this month if I made it within the top 25 or not, but I now know I was not in the top ten. Am I disappointed? A bit. But I am more scared/nervous/excited to hear what comes back in the critique. I have this hope that within that unbiased feedback I will learn where I am on this journey, what next steps I need to take and whether or not I am at that level I feel I need to be to more easily reach out and ask for help along the way. I am learning I cannot do this alone.
Edited to add: I just happened across this piece and felt it had to be shared.
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