Wednesday 26 June 2013

Putting Up with the Low Down - Andrew Strong

Some years ago, just after my first book was published, I met a friend I'd not seen for some time.  The first thing he said to me, without even a pause, was “I didn’t like your book.”  I hadn’t mentioned my book, and didn’t intend to, but for him it was clearly imperative that he let me know exactly how he felt about it. 

I’ve been working on something new, and have almost completed it.  Last week I went for a meeting with my agent and one of the agency’s interns to discuss progress.  I had a heavy cold, and was weary from a very intense time in my day job as a headteacher.  Earlier in the week I’d had a scuffle with some school inspectors and was hoping for a far more pleasant experience with my agent.  I was pretty low, and having spent years on this new book, wondered just how much I was prepared to hear my work pulled apart before I snapped.

But my agent was lovely, and so was the intern, and there I was, happily having my book’s structure, and then its sentences, scrutinized and questioned.  Their criticisms were so intelligent, and so accurate that I felt I was learning, and I knew what was being said made absolute sense. If only school inspections could be as pleasant and useful as this.

But I wonder what must it be like if you couldn’t take criticism?  As a headteacher the rebukes come from every direction, in every form, and there’s nowhere to hide.  I don’t like it, but I’m used to it. Is it the same for a writer?  Do you grow a thick, leathery skin? Or, if you can’t take criticism, do you just give up? 

Perhaps writing isn’t something to pursue if you’re too sensitive, but then don’t sensitive people make better writers?  And when, and if, the book is published, and your work gets a more public scrutiny, then it’s open season and people may say and write horrible and unkind things. You have to be tough to put up with the criticism, but sensitive enough to write it in the first place. 

Secretly, I think, we are all a lot tougher than we imagine.  It isn’t easy getting published in the first place, so I suppose most of us have experienced plenty of rejections.  But once the book is out there, and not everyone adores your work as much as you’d hoped, what do you do?  How do you cope?  Drink? Feign madness? Blame it on the kids? Or do you take it all to heart and shake your fist at the heavens and seek vengeance upon the universe?


8 comments:

Mystica said...

I think we just suck it up! there will always be a dissident voter so chin up!

Lucy said...

Funnily enough I wrote a post along the same lines the other day: http://lucymarcovitch.wordpress.com . It's tough, but it's part of being a serious writer!

Clémentine Beauvais said...

I think we're not the only target of criticism. I'm always baffled by the number of things which people will find to criticise directly to the face of other people: their kids, lifestyles, clothes, tastes, everything.

At least we can take some distance from our writing, less from our kids or life choices. A book doesn't (or shouldn't) define us as much. I think it can be useful not to get too attached to our characters and worlds, as far as it's possible.

Stroppy Author said...

What do we do? We write another book, and try to make it better than the last one!

Jackie Marchant said...

We write a book about nasty reviewers having nasty accidents - something like 'Final Destination - the Critics.'

A Wilson said...

I can always take the criticism from my agent or editor as it is nearly always spot on and helps me to improve. I have found it much harder to take from family! I suppose it depends on how the criticism is offered and whether it is intended to be helpful or is simply someone getting something off his/her chest. But I think you are right: we must be thick-skinned or we wouldn't carry on doing it.

Richard said...

As a software engineer, it took me 10-20 years to learn to be happy when someone found a bug. It still takes an effort sometimes.

Andrew Strong said...

Dear Andrew, this blog is painfully dull. Make the next one funnier.