I Want You To Kick Me In The Ass As Hard As You Can
Yesterday afternoon I got a nice email from a fellow-writer friend of mine who congratulated me for getting the Superspiff and Toothpick Kid podcast up, and then told me in all honesty he wasn't sure he "got" it. Which is, of course, totally cool. As much as I'd love everyone to love everything I write, unfortunately, that isn't going to happen. And this story I'm podcasting, well, it's a bit different than pretty much all the other things I've written, so I suppose that might be worth something. That said, I did ask what isn't working for him in the story, because as a writer, I do want to learn from the mistakes that I've made, and I do want to get better at my craft. And I don't mind having my ass handed to me if I can learn something from it.
Because it seems like everywhere I turn these days, I'm getting my ass kicked by other people, and how good they are at writing. I just finished reading a story
orogeny asked me to critique for her. Two days ago, I read Samantha Henderson's unbelievably great The Mermaids' Tea Party. Both of these make me look at the few humble stories I've published, shake my head, and go wow. (There are a few others, too. I've recently finished reading collections from both Jennifer Pelland and Matt Wallace recently that fit this category). That is how you play this game, I think to myself when I finish one of those stories. That's how you write. WTF have I been doing hunting and pecking out stories on my keyboard.
This could be discouraging, I suppose. It certainly is humbling to see their handle on the craft. But I'm looking at those stories, and I'm thinking, I've got a long way to go, but I want to figure it out. I want to up my craft.
That's me right now, getting my ass kicked. And loving every minute of it. Because one day, I want my stories to kick someone else's ass. I want to leave them feeling the way I do now, with a big, sheepish grin on their face, staring at the pages or the monitor, at the way the words just end, saying, "Oh. My. God, Magnum...That was amazing! How did he do that?!?!"
And then I want that person to start figuring out how to hand out a whole other round of ass-kickings.
But the only way for me to get there is to figure out how to do it better, to take that (constructive) criticism to heart. (And, of course, to read.)
Time to get back to work. I've got some training to do.
Because it seems like everywhere I turn these days, I'm getting my ass kicked by other people, and how good they are at writing. I just finished reading a story
orogeny asked me to critique for her. Two days ago, I read Samantha Henderson's unbelievably great The Mermaids' Tea Party. Both of these make me look at the few humble stories I've published, shake my head, and go wow. (There are a few others, too. I've recently finished reading collections from both Jennifer Pelland and Matt Wallace recently that fit this category). That is how you play this game, I think to myself when I finish one of those stories. That's how you write. WTF have I been doing hunting and pecking out stories on my keyboard.
This could be discouraging, I suppose. It certainly is humbling to see their handle on the craft. But I'm looking at those stories, and I'm thinking, I've got a long way to go, but I want to figure it out. I want to up my craft.
That's me right now, getting my ass kicked. And loving every minute of it. Because one day, I want my stories to kick someone else's ass. I want to leave them feeling the way I do now, with a big, sheepish grin on their face, staring at the pages or the monitor, at the way the words just end, saying, "Oh. My. God, Magnum...That was amazing! How did he do that?!?!"
And then I want that person to start figuring out how to hand out a whole other round of ass-kickings.
But the only way for me to get there is to figure out how to do it better, to take that (constructive) criticism to heart. (And, of course, to read.)
Time to get back to work. I've got some training to do.