Shook Ones - May 30, 2008

The writing program at UCLA is surprisingly solid for a school that doesn't have an MFA program. Since the instructors decide who gets into the class, you get both a baseline of talent and people who are fairly serious about their writing. With all this in mind I was chuffed as fuck to get into my first class.

To write for a class like that, you've got to have a lot of confidence in your own writing. If you don't, there's no way you're going to be able sit through an hour of people critiquing your work.

In order to have this confidence, I have to believe that whatever I'm currently working on is the best thing I've written yet[1]. If I don't believe that, then why bother. Why bother writing it, why bother sharing it, why bother posting it to my site? People know when you're phoning it in.

The first time I turned in for the creative writing class, I truly believed that the story I'd written was awesome. Not just awesome, but mind blowing. I'm not sure what I expected from my peers, applause maybe, but I knew that my shit was good and I expected them to recognize that in grand fashion.

What I got was exactly the opposite. It's not that they didn't like it, I could have written that off to differing taste. They tore it to shreds. My character motivation was nonexistent, my dialogue was weak, the plot had barely more than one dimension. It's not so much that they didn't like it, it's like they were frustrated that I wasn't a better writer.

Sitting there listening to the rest of the writing group tear into this story was awful. I really thought I might be sick and when I got out of class I went home and did shots of rum until I stopped feeling like a jackass. I just couldn't believe I had misjudged my writing ability so badly.

But worse than the embarrassment of sitting through that class was the loss of confidence in my own ability. For weeks after that, I couldn't write. I'd sit at the computer and just stare at the cursor. My fear that whatever I wrote wouldn't be any good wouldn't even let me start.

It's an awful feeling. Writer's block is a hundred times easier.

I don't bring this all up as interesting historical fact. Wednesday night we were talking about where we see ourselves over the next ten years. Obviously I want to write. I want to support myself as a writer and I want the recognition that only comes with being a best selling author.

The unfortunate truth is that I'm not there as a writer. Maybe I'm good enough to get published, maybe I'm even good enough to make an average living with as a writer. But that's not the point. The point is to make the best possible art I can make. It's not about writing well enough to get paid, it's being the best writer I can possibly be and letting the money follow.

I might have to spray paint that on the wall. Burn it into the carpet. Carve it into the desk.

Wednesday wasn't easy. It's never easy to have two people you like and respect tell you "there are assumptions you've made about your life and about your writing that are wrong."[2] And hearing that I need to challenge those assumptions is scary and uncomfortable. I don't want to shine a light on a lot of things that I've lived comfortably with for many, many years. I don't want admit that I've been lying to myself, or that I haven't been true to myself.

But easy or not, it's necessary. Without challenging those assumptions there's no way to grow as a person or as a writer. And that means I have to make a choice. Am I willing to do what's necessary to take my writing to the next level? Am I really committed to this, will I push through what's comfortable and easy or do I blow it off, tell myself they're full of shit? Or worse, do I say the work necessary isn't worth it that I'd rather accept who am I at this moment and never leave my mark on the world, never move past this point.

I guess I've chosen to push through it. I sat here Wednesday night and most of Thursday and almost all day today afraid to put anything on the page. Write a line, delete a line. The only way to get through it is to get back on the horse and write. And so you get a bunch of naval gazing, sorry about that.

---
[1]When writing fiction, blog posts are different
[2]Paraphrased

Posted by Ben Corman at 9:46 PM

Print Friendly · Digg it · del.icio.us · StumbleUpon · Netscape

Trackback Pings

TrackBack URL for this entry:
http://www.festeringass.com/mt/mt-tb.fcgi/2427

Comment Policy:

Anonymous comments are allowed. All anonymous comments and comments from those not registered with TypeKey are moderated. They WILL NOT appear until they are read and approved by a moderator.

It is strongly encouraged that you sign up and login with a TypeKey account. Once you do that, your comments will be immediately posted.

Comments

Oh new artists. It's funny.

It is true, you shouldn't be worried about people yelling at you. You should start to worry when they stop. Trust me, be far more worried with silence.

Or your work is really what they said. And I could see a lot of that being true. But hey, it's a first draft. Learn to re-write.

Posted by: dan at May 30, 2008 11:39 PM

Thank You. You have no idea how relieved I am to hear that I'm not the only one who feels that way.

Posted by: Caitlin at May 31, 2008 08:30 AM

Ben,

Good post. You might want to check out the ChuckPalahniuk.net essays on writing. You have to become a member to get access, but when you wrote:

"I don't want to shine a light on a lot of things that I've lived comfortably with for many, many years. I don't want admit that I've been lying to myself, or that I haven't been true to myself."

--it made me think about Palahniuk, because he would suggest that these are exactly the things you NEED to shine a light on, *in* your writing.

For what it's worth. Best of luck. --Jeremy

Posted by: Jeremy at May 31, 2008 08:37 AM

What he's saying is applicable to any creative process: http://youtube.com/watch?v=-hidvElQ0xE

:* m.

Posted by: mikaela at May 31, 2008 01:15 PM

Don't apologise. I'm interested in following your thought processes and progress. Thanks for this post.

Posted by: Andrew McMillen at June 1, 2008 06:51 PM

What they gave you was such a gift. I was in an art program making video art and the most I could get out of any of my classmates during my crits were one word answers or thoughtless questions that simply showed how little they cared about the work. Without any discussion, I'm left to either believe that:
a. They were not willing to put the effort in to understand it
or
b. the project failed to do what I wanted it to and they're silence is a reflection of my failure.

Come to think of it, HEY! Does anyone want to looko at some video art?!

Joking aside, I hope that you push forward since you still owe it to the world and to yourselve to publish those Hawaiian stories. I'm still waiting!

Posted by: jesse douglas at June 2, 2008 08:26 AM

Ben,

This post speaks to one of my biggest fears: being so confident about my writing that I am blind to my weaknesses.

In my English class, I am one of the strong writers. I know that I'm a good writer - at least good enough for my high school level - and I get reassurance from fellow classmates. However, there is always a nagging voice in the back of my head that reminds me of how juvenile my writing really is to the real world. It's hard for me to go back and re-examine my whole writing style and try to improve it myself, because then I would have to put myself in a position where I need to personally realize that I am not good enough.

I believe you're very fortunate to be in an environment in which the people around you are not afraid to give you their honest opinion. Ben, you're very lucky.

Good luck with the class and your writing.

Posted by: Mel at June 5, 2008 06:55 PM