Destructive Criticism
Negative feedback is par for the course with artistic endeavours. You put stuff out there, chances are someone's going to think it sucks. I knew that going into this whole play-putting-on adventure. I've been psyching myself up for months. It's okay if not everyone likes my stuff. People are entitled to their opinions. What's important is that I tried.
I'm so gracious...in theory.
In practice, one (and so far the only) unflattering review sent me into a fit of fury! Oh, you should have heard me last night. Rant, rail, flail! You would have thought someone had said my baby was stupid. At one point, I actually said I wanted to find said person and punch them. And I went on like that for a good twenty minutes.
Drama King, in his level-headed way, pointed out that I can't go around assaulting people just because they don't like my play. He also reminded me that everyone is entitled to an opinion. then I remember how my therapist told me that anger was just a volatile expression of feeling hurt. And realized that I probably wanted to punch her, because it felt like she had punched me. In the gut. In the metaphorical gut.
Rejection. Indifference. Criticism. All par for the course, when you've chosen a career such as mine. I can say all the right things. I trot out the mature platitudes and act like I'm above it all. But the truth is it sucks to have someone tell you you suck. And that's the plain, ungracious truth.
I'm so gracious...in theory.
In practice, one (and so far the only) unflattering review sent me into a fit of fury! Oh, you should have heard me last night. Rant, rail, flail! You would have thought someone had said my baby was stupid. At one point, I actually said I wanted to find said person and punch them. And I went on like that for a good twenty minutes.
Drama King, in his level-headed way, pointed out that I can't go around assaulting people just because they don't like my play. He also reminded me that everyone is entitled to an opinion. then I remember how my therapist told me that anger was just a volatile expression of feeling hurt. And realized that I probably wanted to punch her, because it felt like she had punched me. In the gut. In the metaphorical gut.
Rejection. Indifference. Criticism. All par for the course, when you've chosen a career such as mine. I can say all the right things. I trot out the mature platitudes and act like I'm above it all. But the truth is it sucks to have someone tell you you suck. And that's the plain, ungracious truth.