Because Metaphors Are Bad

Most writers have their own demons when it comes to how they view their woeful, troubled writing. Virgil was seriously disappointed in the Aeneid and never wanted it published, even though it would become to be recognized as one of the greatest works of Western literature. Vonnegut would never have been published if it wasn't for his wife constantly pushing him forward and encouraging him. Most of us wish that we had someone who believed in us, our talent, no matter what. I guess you could say that that person for me was Harry, because my parents do not think much of my writing, and while I have recently receive much encouragement from my professors, that was not always the case in the past. Harry historically has always provided positive feedback and much encouragement, and seemed to genuinely like my writing. Back in 2007, sure, I received upwards of 500 hits per day on my Panther in Pumps blog with people sending me emails all the time, praising the blog and perhaps even wanting to work with me on some writing project--but that was ten years ago. Today, few people access this blog, and I assume that most of the people are people who have been following me for a long time like Amara and Rosa, etc, and that I haven't recently received any new readers.

So, when Harry sent me an email consisting of primarily negative feedback on a short story that I was actually proud of, you could say I was shocked and hurt. We're not supposed to take negative feedback personally, after all, there should be a separation between author and work, but no one who writes really believes that bullshit. When he sent the email on December 11, I still haven't been able to digest everything it says, and be okay with it. Theoretically, I should have faith in my own writing, and outside criticism shouldn't influence that. But that's really not the case.

"What you have to do with your writing in other forms is to reach that same level, which you haven't done yet...You're competing with a whole world of polished and published writers, who have all had unhappy childhoods of one kind or another."

The short story called "Because of You" consisted mostly of quick peeks into my troubled childhood. I understand that yes, some people have had more interesting and drama-filled upbringings, but I'm not writing about them, I'm writing about me. I'm sorry if you find it boring, but I have a feeling that I will (again) write about the same subjects if I ever complete my memoir. It was a bit like saying, "Naw, your childhood trauma doesn't count because other people have had it so much worse." I could lie, and say that my grandmother's boyfriend put his hands down my eight-year-old pants, but that would be unethical, wouldn't it?

My mother gives me the same advice that I just need more time in order to be good enough to publish. Honestly, between me and the five people who read this blog, I don't believe that's true. I've been writing since I was old enough to write and old enough to understand how writing was therapy, and many, many famous authors did their best work in their twenties. This is not to say that I can't improve with hard work, all of us can, but if I'm not ready now when in the fuck will I ever be?

"You can't rely indefinitely on the uniqueness or shock value of your experience..."

I'm not relying on uniqueness, I'm relying on connecting with other people through common experience, so that they can relate to the story and draw from it insight into their own emotions. But I get it, right, I can't shock people because every single event that I mean to be shocking has already been done before and with a better author, and therefore I can't compete. What is especially hurtful about this criticism is the idea that I have nothing more to provide to readers but shock. Surely, someday, there would be something profound in writing that is rather ordinary.

And, of course, I myself am not unique. Got it.

"We're left in the dark about basic things. What are your parents fighting about?"

Well, for one thing, I don't fucking remember what they were fighting about, therefore because it is a piece of nonfiction, I just couldn't make up some reason, and then I thought, does it really fucking matter what they were fighting about all those years? I don't think so.

"What did they argue about with your best friend's parents?"

Again, don't remember, and why should there be a reason when it's petty to split up two kids who have been best friends since birth just because you have a disagreement with the other parents? The reason isn't important.

"Instead, you devote a lot of your seven pages to extended metaphors...not much concrete detail."

Because metaphors are bad?

"Take it as your goal to make your readers feel that way too--completely hynotized, carried along with the story--even if you have to rewrite the same paragraph a dozen or a hundred times."

I understand that this is probably good advice--working the page until perfection, but I don't see myself ever rewriting a paragraph a hundred times, not even a dozen times because that's like grilling a nice filet mignon until it's shoe leather.

Harry also suggested that I find a contemporary writer, and emulate him or her. According to the New York Times Sunday Edition, Nora Roberts is number one on the bestsellers' list. I don't understand Roberts commercial appeal, and I certainly don't agree that she is great writer, someone to imitate. There are great writers out there who are currently working (Cormac is at the top of that list for me), but I don't want to be a contemporary writer. I want to write a classic (obviously an ambitious goal for someone who doesn't write well enough to be published outside of a school-wide poetry contest).

In the end, we're supposed to take negative feedback, and keep on truckin' anyway, sending out submissions, taking rejection letters and taping them to our wall, watching as they quickly turn into wallpaper covering our entire bedroom--writing for the sake of writing no matter who reads it. For the art.

Maybe the short story "Because of You" sucked. My creative writing professor only gave it a 90/100, and had a similar complaint as Harry did, that the piece was covering too much ground too quickly.

I will take that into consideration.