1 We Are Not Our Writing

An essential part of this course will be sharing our writing and evaluating each other’s work. This can feel stressful, and the reason it can feel stressful is that rather than thinking that something we made will be judged, writers often feel that we, ourselves, will be judged. So the key to stress-free workshops is reminding ourselves that we are not our writing. Oh, and did I mention that we are not our writing? We are not our writing.

When you share your writing in a workshop, or when it is published, don’t offer up your work with shaking hands like it’s a delicate piece of your very soul. Try to think of it as something you made, like a bowl of pasta or a paper airplane. If someone thinks your pasta is too mushy and tells you so, it is not because they want to hurt you. That’s an opinion on the pasta you made, and it has nothing to do with you. If someone tells you that your paper airplane might fly better if you fold the wing tips up instead of down, they may be right or may be wrong, but they are doing you a favor by trying to help you make better airplanes, and this should not hurt your feelings.

Another problem created by mistaking something we made for something we are is that students become hesitant to offer real criticism and suggestions for fear of, again, hurting each other’s feelings, and writing classes and writers’ group workshops often become little more than festivals of ego-massage reciprocity. Sincere praise is always appropriate, but sincere criticism is just as helpful, if not more so. Thinking about writing is speculative, and readers should make suggestions based on possible improvement. Students who have nothing to say to writers, or just say, “it’s good–don’t change a thing” are failing to help writers think about the range of possibilities in their work. The job of readers in peer workshops is to offer writers possible suggestions. The job of writers is to listen carefully to suggestions and decide later what they will use toward improving the draft.

Passionate writers may feel that their worth as a person is somehow linked to or dependent on their success as a writer. One student I know of sent his writing to a famous author, asking if it was any good. The author replied that he didn’t think it was, and the student attempted suicide. I see two issues at work here: one, if you want to be a professional writer, you need a thicker skin than that, because you are going to have to face a lot of rejection. Two, the student misinterpreted this rejection/failure as a writer, thinking it meant he had failed as a person.

A wise man once said, “You came into this world with something beautiful, and that’s all you’ll take with you when you leave. Look for that something.” Writing is just something you do, and in my opinion, nothing you do defines who you are. Not only should your self-worth not be based on others’ opinions of your writing, but your self-worth should not even be based on others’ opinions of you as a person. How can you develop self-worth without other people? Spend some time alone. Learn to enjoy your own company, without screens, and even without words. Investigate who you are when everything is off.

This is the real research, and if you want to have something worth sharing in your writing, start here.