Yeah, he actually threw it in the garbage, but his wife picked it out, read it and told him how excellent it was. He continued and she helped him with advices how does a teenage-girl life look like.
I agree with Link on the importance of the middle ground. I think I come across just as many writers who are way too arrogant about their writing as writers who are insecure about it, and I don't think either extreme is a useful tool for improvement. Are any of us Shakespeare? Nope, probably not. Are any of us completely without any ideas or creativity or thoughts worth expressing? Nope, probably not. I think we should always be trying to improve, while also celebrating our victories. And, for me at least, I think we should try to train ourselves away from a mindset of extremes. When something goes well I make sure to talk myself down - That was cool, but there's still lots to do. When something goes poorly, I can talk myself up - That sucks, but focus on the good stuff for a while. I don't want to live on an emotional roller coaster.
I think we are the most bias judges of our works and the harshest at the same time. That is because we understand the work, and with it, its weaknesses. Sometimes those weakness overwhelm us and we overreact. As long as we recognize those weaknesses though, we can always find room for improvement. Remember that as writers, we make the most important decision. That's deciding when a book is done. And really that is our satisfaction or frustration but usually both. It's a sad and joyous day when your work grows beyond your capabilities to improve it. Whether you like it or not, you feel that there is little more you can do for your child. I think it's those moments when writers consider tossing the baby with the bathwater. I think it's important to remember; the bias that gave your story beauty wasn't false. A new reader who stumbled first upon your novel might feel the same thing. The harshness is the reality that stumbled through your mind after the rose colored glasses wear off. How it compares, how those other things did it better. Maybe then is seems shallow and cliche'. This important part of the story now seems to be lacking on all fronts. But then you remember how you use it to make something that you haven't heard of anywhere else; something you dared to call your own. Then finally in that moment of re-triumph a sudden flash of inspiration. You add depth and wonder to that moment you suddenly found so weak- All in conjunction with that spectacular set up you have conjured. Little by little we patch up the weakness to our works, getting closer to our personal perfection. And although it will never achieve that, to the point where it may even seem incomplete, it is still worth following through with your vision till the end. We should all be a little more confident about our visions. Only through our skills as writers do we find the power to express our visions so that other may find value in them. It is this skill that is more important than the vision itself; as far as becoming renowned is concerned. The vision is just as important but something that will most likely be misunderstood or lost altogether. At least for some time. Rather it is the vision that will make people come back to the book after it has been read. It is the writing that will draw them in and keep them interested. But the vision will always bring them back for more. So I guess what I'm trying to say is that self-doubt is important and it is less of a balance and more of a mis application. Do not doubt your visions so carelessly, because then your work can lose direction, themes, and even genre. It is important to exercise and improve visions, but that isn't exactly an improvement on writing but an improvement of yourself. At least that is my take on the art of writing and how self-doubt applies; which I know doesn't include people who pump out popular stories every other day with little regard for anything I said here. Like always, factors can be min-max'ed to get a satisfactory result. But it just depends on what kind of result you want.
I don't hear my words in a different voice but I certainly have loads of self doubt. I can't see what's wrong with my latest - but i'm sure there is loads wrong with it. A couple of people have had a look and picked up a few typos but nothing more - which just tells me they are rubbish at critiquing. If your self doubt is telling you that you didn't write anything any good - it just might be right - but I doubt very much that it is totally right. You could find a buddy to swap with so you both point out what's good about each other's writing, if you're desperate. I always like to hear what's wrong with my writing because I can't see the wood for the trees.
I hear a voice in my head too. It isn't self-doubt but it is a voice I heed. It says, 'you should be writing.....you should be writing." Self doubt always dissolves when I'm writing. It may be bad prose or unrealistic dialogue but as long as I'm writing I'm learning the craft.
Pffft. Take that self doubt and send it out to learn. Whatever skills we lack, whatever our writing's shortcomings, it's not the end of the road. You're unsure of it, go learn more.
We must all have a ceiling of competence we hit despite studying, or a point where the extent of the edits required are prohibitive. Sometimes I have a strong image in my mind and my inability to translate it into the appropriate words becomes infuriating.
Do you think you're unable permanently, or just not able YET? (I think both options are equally valid and equally possible, I just think it's important that we develop the ability to distinguish between them)
It doesn't work like that. If it did, we'd all be Shakespeare-level geniuses. As I've pointed out, even the best writers are usually plagued by self-doubt, even as they're writing masterpieces the world will long celebrate. Off the top of my head, the only two writers I can think of who were were convinced of their own greatness were James Joyce and Vladimir Nabokov. Nabokov's Paris Review interview is such a blast of egomania that it verges on the comic - which may have been what he had in mind.
I don't believe that. Sure, it might take me three lifetimes to learn theoretical physics. But there is always something more you can learn about writing. The thing I see that most often keeps writers back is thinking either you can't learn any more or you don't need to learn any more.
A bit of both. There is a level I would like to achieve (as would we all, and it is a high bar), which I am unlikely to achieve due to lack of time, commitment (there are other pastimes I simply won't give up in favour of writing, plus work), and also a limit to my natural talent.
I didn't say you'd never feel self doubt, I said channel it into learning instead of wallowing in it.
Quite the impossible thing you ask. Both feel equally possible to anyone in Chinspinner's shoes. The edges of our cage are not so easily defined or so easy to find. How committed are you @Chinspinner, to the images in your head? Only be accepting the possibility that it will never come will you find the courage to find out if it will or not. Because that is the bet you made on yourself as a writer, whether it is possible or not comes second. And I guess part of that is a serious commitment, which won't guarantee anything either way, just increases your chances of success. Well that self doubt is the application of your learning. If you are missing that voice than it is possible you are putting your story on a pedestal or aren't well versed enough to find it's weaknesses.
Hey, if you switched ALL of your sentence structure around, you'd give a slightly more effective Yoda impersonation. But, really, do you think it's that difficult? In practically every other field of human endeavour we're expected to realistically assess our strengths, weaknesses and potential. But writing is somehow magically mystical, and a little green man needs to croak at me about "quite the impossible thing you ask"? How is it impossible? And why are we in cages, now? Nope. If you want to pretend it's all mystical, go for it, but I don't buy it. Of course writers can look at where they are and assess where they're likely to be in the future. Why wouldn't we be able to?
What happens when that niggling voice in the back of your mind sounds like a parent at their most disappointed? My own voice playing Doubting Thomas, I can handle but that voice is a little scary. It usually heralds a really well done piece or a complete disaster. More often than not, it's the disaster, but I keep writing to get it out of my head. And this probably sounds more than a little creepy...
There is huge morale-boosting value in getting beta readers to engage with your work. Nothing helps to remove doubt like realising your beta readers 'get' what you're trying to do. It's not whether or not they like it, it's whether or not they get it. You can tell when that happens, because they engage with the content of what you've written, not just the form. As long as it happens occasionally, you'll feel like you're on the right track. I felt sorry for @Tim3232 , whose betas don't seem to be much help to him. He wants feedback for his writing and he gets line editors instead? Bummer. Maybe keep trying to find others? As a writer, there will be days when you feel like you've nailed the process. Then other days when you think ...oh, shit, no, I can't do this ...it's crap, who would want to read this ...it's shallow, it's boring, it's cliche, it's old-fashioned ... I think, like @Link the Writer said, you need to strive for the middle ground. Most of the time!
Why do you give up control to your weaker self? You have the choice not to do that. No one else is choosing for you.
Apparently, I've missed something. I don't think I've acquired a clone or a split personality. I'll be quiet now...
If someone close to me dies, there's no way I can just turn off the flood of sadness. When someone you love leaves you, it's devastating. You can't just turn the devastation off. If someone important to you berates you or you fail a test you thought you could pass, your ego is going to be in the tank and there's little you can do about it. I'm not suggesting we can control everything we feel. But when someone 'makes you mad' you can choose not to be. And when you are beating up on yourself, not meeting your own expectations, or doubting your abilities, you can choose not to do that to yourself. Not good enough, not rich enough, not smart enough, those are all value judgements that depend on who/what you compare yourself to. I'm poor if I compare myself to all the dot-com millionaires around here. But I'm rich if I compare myself to the majority of single women in the world. I own a house, I own a car, I have money in the bank and don't worry about the money I spend in the grocery store. I'm not the best writer on the planet. But I'm not the worst either. So I have a choice, I can compare myself to some incredible authors and feel inadequate. Or I can choose to accept I'm not the best and make my goal just to learn one more thing, to write one chapter better, to get this novel done and have it be something some people enjoy reading, not because they are my friend or my son, but because they actually enjoyed reading it. I think I can do that. I don't think I could have done it 3 years ago without making an effort to listen, read and learn. I don't understand when someone who clearly has talent as you do @Darkkin, worries your work is not perfect enough. No one's work is perfect enough. But everyone is capable of improving. So from where I stand we all have a choice. We can either lament that we aren't good enough, or we can accept that we aren't and adopt the POV that we can be. Not being perfect is always tolerable if one is improving.
The quest for perfection is a good thing, if it makes you improve your work. However, EXPECTING perfection? That's another animal entirely. Perfection doesn't exist, except as a concept. At some point, you'll need to put your 'imperfect' work out there for other people to read and enjoy, or not read, or not enjoy. It's part of being an artist. You create. Others consume. And criticise. But remember, nobody is forcing you to do this. You're doing it because you want to, or in the case of writers who feel driven to write, because you HAVE to. How others receive your work is up to them. How you feel about your work is up to you.
Opinions need context. Without, there's no drive, no character, no direction. A voice might be that context, your doubt fundamental for an opinion.
