Sit in Front of the Typewriter and Open a Vein

This is the first official "tortured writer" post of this publication. It probably will not be the last.

I posted the third revision of my werewolf story this morning. I am incredibly grateful for Baen's Universe, the online magazine of professional quality short science fiction and fantasy because it gives a possible venue for newbees to get picked up and a guaranteed feedback system for us to polish our skills.

The issue is that for several years working on a completely amateur (and very solitary) venue I only received criticism from people who love me. This is not to say I don't value that criticism. My wife has pointed out so many absurdities and gaffes in my thought process before I could even put them into print that I fail to see how anyone writes without a supportive spouse. They either must stumble painfully through it or just not make as many mistakes at baseline.

The point is that at Baen's, they offer no-punches pulled criticism, which is exactly what an amateur like me needs to get to the next level. The only issue is that it stings like a bitch. The paradox is thus; to write something worthwhile you have to get personally invested into it. YOU have to believe in it or sure as hell no one else will; however, to survive the editing process, you MUST NOT take it personally when someone rips your beloved creation to shreds, points out gaping holes in your logic and tells you that your carefully worded passages failed to move them.

I'm still learning this skill. Right now, every time I post a story I immediately start chewing my nails until the first response. Then I am usually depressed because the quickest response is usually one of the editors who points out, correctly, all the things that keep the story from being pro quality. At this point I generally sulk and question my own skill at anything and lament the fact that I ever took it into my head to try and write fiction. This phase lasts until the next post, this one usually from one of my fellow newbies, who also has criticism to offer, but feels enough fratnernity to offer up praise and encouragement as well. This makes me feel better as sometimes the praise is accruate and flattering. (I do not blame the editor for not patting me on the ass, it's not his/her job to make me feel better about myself).

Michele, bless her heart, usually finds herself bemused at this stage because while her best attempts to cheer me up over the previous 12-48 hours were received gratefully but with visibly limited effect, a few lines of encouragement from a complete stranger somehow manage to brighten up my whole outlook on the practice of writing science fiction. I understand her frustration and I apologize and tell her that her opinion matters most in almost all things, and especially in terms of her opinion of me as a person as a whole, but that deep in my heart I assume her bias.

It doesn't matter that she has ripped apart more than one of my drafts for being shallow or illogical or just plain bad, somehow I always assume that at the end of the day she's going to like what I produce. Which is a good and necessary feeling; I feel sorry for anyone married to someone who didn't believe in them. It's just that it feels good to know that someone who has no vested interest in your happiness likes what you've written- even if you haven't quite sold the editor yet.

So today I'm back to biting my nails and trying not to check the boards every five minutes. Wish me luck. Who knows, this could be the draft that does it, or at least the first to get a kind word from the editor.