Writers Versus Readers
There seems to be a plague going around with amateur and professional writers alike. Ever since we realized we could reach out to hundreds of people if we posted our writing on the web, we’ve become self conscious.
A writer is supposed to be narcissistic. We don’t care what others think, because we write to pacify that inane little voice in the back of our skulls. Writers don’t have the liberty of being self conscious. There is always going to be someone out there who doesn’t like what we write, but we write anyway because their thoughts don’t mean diddly to us.
We’ve lost our connection with what it means to be a writer.
If you look around Livejournal or any number of other sites, there are plenty of groups for writers to critique writers. There is so much ‘crap writing’ out there that we are willing to submit ourselves to hearing what our competition thinks of us to placate our fears.
I’m done with it.
I was recently rejected from a semi-elite writing group because... well, honestly, there wasn’t much reason because no one was around to vote. The general idea was that I wasn’t good enough. This made me step back and take a break from LJ so I could think.
Does it really matter what writers say about other writers?
No.
Does it really matter if the people I could be competing with for publishing space don’t like my writing?
No.
So why put myself through this?
I’ve come to realize that writers don’t like good writing.
Why? Why do we embrace crap and shun that which is good?
Because it’s better than us.
Because we feel threatened.
Because we start to feel more self-conscious about our own writing.
(Let me stop here and say this: I don’t believe for an instant that the people who rejected me are this shallow. I’m only expressing the thoughts I had after said rejection.)
I’ve come to the conclusion that I don’t want or need writers - or those who know a lot about literature - to read my work and critique it. If someone was threatening to take over your job, would you help them fairly? No. And so I need the help of those who know only the basics of how a story is supposed to be set up. I need the help of those who are looking for entertainment and enjoyment, not cutting out the competition.
Readers are who will buy my novels, and so readers are those who shall read it first.
I’m done with petty writers.
**
In other news, about the same time that I came to the conclusion that I don’t want writers critiquing my novel before it’s finished, I also came to the conclusion that I have some very guilty pleasures when it comes to what I read.
I’ll admit it now: I’m a fan of Stephanie Meyer and Laurell K. Hamilton.
I’m not only a fan of these books; I lose myself in them as easily as teenage boys loose themselves in World of Warcraft. I forget time, obligations, and, more importantly, writing. There is nothing to me quite like reading a Merry Gentry novel, or Twilight.
This is the type of novel I want to write.
I know that Stephanie Meyer and Laurell K. Hamilton get a lot of flack from the writer community... but that’s almost the point I’m trying to make here. These women write because they want to write. They write what they want to write. They write for readers, not for authors.
It’s always so nice to abandon my literary knowledge and eat through one of these books. I love it, in fact.
Why wouldn’t I strive to give the world something like that? Why would I pretend that being a writer is about showing how smart you are?
So here it is. My pledge to write for readers and to write what they’ll enjoy.
Here’s to you, book-buyers of the world.