An Interview With Three Timeless Writers: The Newb, the Ego, and the Pro
Which writer are you?
Your writing just got rejected. How do you feel?
The Newb: Damn, that sucks. Oh well. Actually, I sort of expect rejection, partly because I’m just a newbie and partly because my writing is a bit tentative and derivative of writers I idolize. But I know rejection is a part of the game, so I guess I’ll press on.
The Ego: Shit. This is bad. This is horrible. My every attempt to write anything is a referendum on whether I’m any good as a writer. Every rejection makes me feel awful. Apparently, I’m a worse writer than I thought. I’m definitely worse than this other writer so-and-so who’s having a lot more visible success than me. In fact, now that I’m thinking about so-and-so’s writing success, I feel even worse.
The Pro: I barely noticed any rejection because I was too busy having fun actually writing and working on seven other new things.
Success! You got published. Some gatekeeper liked something you did. How do you feel?
Newb: Wow! Awesome. I didn’t expect that. But this is great. I must be improving.
Ego: Finally, some validation. I guess I’m a good writer after all. I’m definitely better than that other writer, so-and-so. Let me dwell on that for a week and feel superior. My happiness about this accomplishment will be fleeting, however, because I’m already worried that I’m a fraud who won’t be able to repeat this one success.
Pro: I’ll pause and feel some gratitude. If it’s a big success, I’ll celebrate it with friends over some mojitos. Then I’ll get back to work.
What do you think about “making it” as a writer and becoming a big success?
Newb: Making it would be crazy. If and when I make it as a writer, I’ll cross the bridge from amateur to big shot. Then I’ll be a professional who won’t make mistakes or get rejected or write anything bad ever again. People who “make it” are mysterious and intimidating to me.
Ego: I’m obsessed with “making it.” It’s all I think about. I hope that one day I make it. But secretly I worry that I’m not good enough, or that I’ll never get lucky enough. To me, the world is divided into two camps: bad writers who won’t make it (most writers), and good writers who will make it (very few writers). My life is a constant, mind-numbing reassessment of which camp I’m in.
Pro: “Making it?” Not really sure what that is. Does that mean there’s some moment when I transition from an imperfect writer to a perfect writer? Yeah, I don’t think that’s real. There may come a time when the amount of money I make from writing, or the number of people reading my stuff, passes some mental tipping point. That would be nice, but it’s just a lagging indicator of the work I put in for years.
Do you care what other people think about your writing?
Newb: I’ve been told that I should write for myself and not cater to what other people think of my art. But I’ve also heard I need to “know my audience” and write for them. So that’s all kind of confusing.
Ego: No! Screw other people! I don’t care what anyone thinks of me, because I’m an artist, and I’m an amazing, unique talent. Of course, I’m lying right now. I care deeply about what everyone thinks of my writing. One negative comment from some anonymous troll is enough to send me into a flaming spiral of self-doubt.
Pro: I write for myself, ultimately. I start with what’s fascinating and cool to me.
But of course I want people to read what I write. I want to build an audience of readers who like my writing. Call them my fellow-travelers. After all, if no one ever reads anything I write ever, that’s just masturbation. Enjoyable, perhaps, but not actualizing my potential. Writing for an audience doesn’t mean I don’t write for me, it just means that I hold my writing accountable to reality.
How do you feel about getting feedback on your writing?
Newb: I’ve heard it’s important! I approach it kind of randomly though. I just get feedback from whoever is close or convenient, or maybe some other writers in a class I’m taking. I don’t have much of a strategy.
Ego: Ugh. Feedback is painful. When other writers don’t “get” my stuff, I feel the need to argue or defend my work against other people’s stupidity and their misunderstanding of my genius. It’s too draining to do this, so I don’t.
Pro: I get feedback from smart people who understand my goals: my writing group, my editors, a couple of mentors, and a few close friends who get my style. Feedback always improves my writing at least a little bit.
Imagine that you have a crazy writing idea, e.g. a dialogue where three hypothetical writers answer some questions about writing. Should you write it?
Newb: I might write that, but I’d prefer if someone else wrote it. It sounds weird. What if I fuck it up?
Ego: No! Only a writer who has “made it” should be allowed to talk philosophically about writing. Someone might call me out for being not good enough, and then everyone will know that I’m a poser.
Pro: There are no rules on stone tablets about who can write what. When I have an idea that moves me, I don’t hesitate.
Read this again and had to shine a light on this bit: "Writing for an audience doesn’t mean I don’t write for me, it just means that I hold my writing accountable to reality."
So good. Thanks!
Loved this one. Very timely for me. Thank you, sir!