Dealing with Other Writers’ Envy

envy

Dealing with Other Writers’ Envy

In the previous post, I suggested a way to deal with your jealousy. The other side of the coin is the envy of other writers toward what you write.

If you continue to work at becoming a better writer, both in skills and spirit, this proficiency can have the unfortunate side effect of others resenting it and you.

So let’s get over the huffing and puffing. They have no right to be jealous. If they had put as much time and effort as I have…yeah, yeah. You’re right. But doesn’t change the situation. So let’s talk about dealing with it. But first…

Is it really envy?

Honestly, it’s probably more of a feeling than anything else. You get a vibe that someone in your writing group envies you.

But beware of assuming your reactions are fact. Sometimes, what we think is true is more about how we feel about ourselves than how than how the world feels about us.

So, before taking any action on your belief, just do a mental check. Can you identify anything the other person said or did which confirms your conviction? A list of possible actions was discussed in the previous post.

If you can’t identify anything concrete, then give a thought at what else might be going on with you that would prompt this touchiness.

But if you are pretty sure that it exists, let’s move onto how to deal with it. I want to distinguish between beginning writers and those more practiced.

Beginning writers

This happens. Even though you’re just starting out, you may get a funny reaction. It might be about your writing skill but might also be that you are daring to do something new and innovative.

Whatever the source, the first reaction is the urge to say what’s your problem? Well, you can of course do it, as long as you don’t mind losing the friend or causing a minor war.

Instead, I would simply stop asking them to read your stuff. If they press to do so, lie. Oh, I haven’t done anything recently.

At this stage in your writing career, it’s important to prevent disheartening feedback. It’s hard enough to summon the courage to write and share. Starting out, you need praise for the act of daring as much as the writing itself. Mean-spirited comments might discourage you into stopping.

More experienced writers

When you are a more experienced writer, the jealousy is likely to be subtle but still there.

I think you can factor your knowledge of the other’s mindset into the feedback. That is, don’t take just her word for the idea that the story is flat; poll the other members of the group. Or, just say, thanks, interesting point and just let it die.

And this antipathy is a kind of a compliment, however backward. Your writing is good enough to prompt these comments.

Okay, just one final thing. I know you would never do this consciously, but are you inadvertently creating this resentment?

No, no, I know you’re not. But just in case, ask yourself:

  • Could how forcefully you express your opinions come off as doctrinaire?
  • Do you remind your peers of your superior skills?
  • Are you dismissive of others’ feedback on your pieces?

No, I know you’re not. I have faith in you.

Jealousy and Writers

jealousy

Jealousy and Writers

Jealousy. This is kind of like those little icons on sites which ask “are you a human?” Check ‘yes’, please. Ergo (I’ve always wanted to use ‘ergo’), you’re likely to be jealous of other writers at one time or other. Somebody turns out a piece you don’t think you could have; another gets more praise than you think warranted i.e., more than you got.

Mostly writers deny or ignore the green-eyed monster. But pretending doesn’t help. Suppressed jealousy can make you feel inadequate. And people convinced they are lesser than aren’t the most open to learning and growing. So what can you do?

How to tell if you are jealous

This may have a kind of duh! feeling to it but like all emotions, jealousy can prompt you directly to action without being conscious of what lies beneath. A not-comprehensive list of how it might demonstrate itself:

  • Nit-picking the envied person’s piece. You can usually tell you’re doing it if nobody else has the same problem.
  • Pretending you don’t remember a fact/event which has been established to make The Other doubt how effectively she got it across.
  • ‘Forgetting’ to read The Other’s piece.
  • Making extremely critical remarks (e.g. this is junk) rather than a more nuanced and kinder comment (e.g. I got a bit confused by the plot).

Of course, sometimes these are legitimate—well, maybe not the last one. But if you find yourself doing these more than occasionally, that you need to pause and ask yourself, what’s going on?

How to deal with your jealousy

Naturally, you could just stop expressing your feelings. But while that might stop the behavior, it doesn’t stop the emotion. So I propose a more comprehensive way.

Okay, are you jealous of Margaret Atwood, Salman Rushdie or Charles Dickens? Of course not. Unless you’re writing with them (particularly challenging in Dickens’ case), you don’t envy them—you admire them. So why not turn what you are feeling into that? It all comes from the same source but admiring someone’s writing makes it a whole lot easier for you and on you.

So when you get that funny, uncomfortable feeling in your stomach, or heart, or throat, try to reframe it.

Reframing the feeling

This is an exercise best done with a glass of wine and a quiet house.

  • Consult wherever in your body is telling you that you’re jealous. Don’t try to chase it away. Just be with it.
  • Ask yourself What about The Other’s writing makes me feel this way?
  • Some answers might be she makes it look so damn easy or how come he could come up with that great plot twist? or I wish I could write as lyrically—mine is so flat. Etc., etc.
  • Having identified the source, add: and I admire that. That is, she makes it look so damn easy and I admire that. How come he came up with that great plot twist? I admire that. You get the drill.
  • Hopefully, you can tap into the secret admiration which prompted the negative feeling to begin with.
  • Use this understanding to benefit your writing by asking The Other, “God, you make it look so damned easy. How do you do it?” You not only flatter The Other but might even get some good tips out of the response.

So, you can use the twinges of jealousy into something productive which can not only help your writing but relax that stomach, heart or throat that has been tensing up.

But what do you do it the tables are turned. How do you deal with envy directed your way? Next post.

Appearing Naked on the Page

naked

Appearing Naked on the Page

Naked on the page. Gives you shivers just thinking about it, doesn’t it? Even if you’re not quite sure what it means. Unfortunately, the explanation is not probably going to make you more comfortable.

What is being naked on the page?

I think my best writing has come when I am completely honest. No prettying up, no generous interpretations, no kind evasion. Being from a dysfunctional family, I write about the pain and cruelty, not about my mother’s cocktail parties.

Feels creepy, doesn’t it? I understand that. But it is, I believe, an important part of the humanity of the writer.

Why do I need to do it?

Stunning plot or appealing characters are important to your writing, but I believe that when readers ache for, identify with, and rejoice with a character, it is often because the writer has written from a place where she has allowed her rawest feelings to guide her writing.

Have you ever watched a stranger on TV cry? Because of the death of a loved one or other terrible experience. They show a vulnerability and openness which draws us in. Do we identify more with their plight? Do we like them more?

Yes and yes.

But it is not the tears themselves, I think, which move us but because we see part of their authentic, hurting self.

You also want to create that connection with a stranger (i.e. your protagonist) in your novel. And the only way I know how is to yourself be vulnerable and open when you write.

How do I do it?

Well, there’s no formula.

The best I can do is a tip which the author, W.O. Mitchell, gave and my first writing teacher, Barbara Turner-Vesselago, passed on to me. Go Fearward. That is, whenever you touch upon something from which you automatically shy away from, instead turn towards it. When your boyfriend said he was seeing somebody else; when you accepted your father was dying; when you betrayed your best friend.

Reach deep down and allow yourself to feel again the searing and write from that sear, not from the scar that has hidden it from view.

The only other thing I can give you is what I thought after following my writing teacher’s suggestion to write about my dysfunctional family.

I climbed the hill, the reluctance as strong as my panting. I wasn’t sure there was enough for a novel mostly because all I had was a feeling of a vast and terrifying darkness. Unrelieved abyss from which, on entry, one might never return. The dread of willingly consigning myself to years back in the hell. A hell from which, I thought, I had escaped.

But so strong was my wish to write, I ventured in. And found, to my growing delight, that it was not entirely a place of shadow and terror. That is was also of light and laughter. That in the wish to escape the night, I had forgotten the day. And also, in a bastardization of Shakespeare, that the remembering fed upon itself and I remembered more and more. So, in the long run, it was a gift. It gave me back who I was. Not all darkness, not all light. But me.

It is an act of bravery but one which I think writers must attempt if they wish to truly move their readers.

Challenge Yourself in Your Writing

challenge

Challenge Yourself in Your Writing

We of course want to concentrate on writing a good story. But because it is the pre-eminent goal doesn’t mean it has to be the only challenge you undertake. I have found my writing most personally satisfying when I learn something new, either technically or emotionally, as I am working on a project.

For example, in my novel Scam!, I wanted to write a novel with multiple Points of View (POV). I switched among four while also moving the plot forward. So when the main characters were all in the same scene, I had to pay special attention to staying within each worldview. That is, risk-taking Lauren can’t suddenly be timid to make the plot flow more smoothly. And carefree Chris can’t become a strategist. This way, I was writing what I wanted while increasing my facility with the craft.

What kind of challenge?

What writing challenge you undertake depends on where you are in your writing process.  

Just starting out

If you are just starting, learning all you need to can seem daunting. But rather than being overwhelmed, remember that, like almost anything else, it is doable if you work on a chunk at a time.

What should you work on? Reread what you have written as if it is a stranger’s work and see if it prompts any ideas. If not, ask a friend to read it and discuss what he liked and what could be improved. However, remember that you need to know how to translate what your reader says into writerly action.  Getting the Most Out of Readers’ Opinions discusses how.

If that doesn’t work, here are some suggestions.

  • Get rid of fancy-dancy speech tags like “he uttered, he shouted” and do the small fixes which still allow you to get across your intent. Read He Uttered! He exclaimed! for help.
  • Adverbs (gently, sadly, angrily) can be a short-cut way to describe emotion rather than showing what it looks and feels like. Address that using The Danger of Adverbs.
  • How we talk in real life—stuttering, pausing, repeating etc.—is perfectly okay. In real life. Even though fiction aims to simulate reality, fictional dialogue has its own rules. Find out what they are in Conversations versus Fictional Dialog.

Any of these would improve the quality of your writing and are eminently doable.

Farther along

If you’ve been writing for longer in either time or intensity, the best source of challenge is still a cool self-analysis of your writing. But here are some other possibilities.

  • Readers are most engaged by protagonists who fight to change things. But writers often like to write about those who like to observe the world. Like they do. Using the post, Don’t Write about Passive Observers—Like You, review your story to ensure you have an active heroine.
  • Besides writing great characters, you need to immerse your reader in a credible and captivating world. Use Creating the Fictional World to provide that.

 

 

So, write what interests you, of course. But try to include an aspect which challenges and increases the mastery of your craft. It will grow your confidence in your skill. It prevents you from getting stuck in a rut. And most of all, it’s fun.

 

 

Your Reader is Smarter than You

smarter

Your Reader is Smarter than You

Jack Bickam, a writer of fiction, quoted the above from a newsroom sign, somewhere, sometime. A warning to reporters to remember that readers are smarter than they are. A good thing for writers of any kind to keep in mind.

Now, I know that you would never condescend in this way. You’re not that kind of person. Would you? You can do it without meaning to.

Ways you don’t treat your readers as smarter

Too much background

As I’ve discussed in Exposition, giving the reader a lot of background before the real action starts slows down the forward motion of the story. It can also accidentally send the message that you think the reader is too stupid to pick up what’s going on unless you spell it out for him. But he can do very well even with a minimal amount of information. In fact, it can be intriguing. Who’s talking? What’s going on? Why did she say that? Readers can tolerate not only being puzzled but positively enjoy it. So enthrall rather than underrate.

Showing off your expertise

A related thing but it can happen at any point in the plot. I paraphrase an actual amateur writer’s approach.

“This dishonors my family!” he shouted. “I must have revenge!” He pulled out a scimitar, which is a short sword with a curved blade, used originally in Eastern countries.

Exactly the wrong time to drop in a piece of research. It can kick your reader right out of the story. If you really, really think your readers don’t know what a scimitar is and cannot get it from the context, introduce the term sometime earlier.

Telling them how to interpret your story

You want to get your message across. Of course you do. But it is both clunky and insulting to write:

This is a story of hope. Despite almost insurmountable odds, Ryan will triumph, showing the world that no disability can prevent his true spirit shining through.

This is what you want your reader to conclude (hopefully with less hackneyed words) once she has read your compelling tale of your protagonist’s travails and final triumph. Again, show don’t tell.

Driving the point home

Some writers think they can sneak in the message by one of the characters articulating it.

Brenda wiped a tear away. “It’s hard to believe Ryan could accomplish that with all his challenges.”

Gary nodded. “He’s an example of the unconquerable human spirit.”

Even if you write it more elegantly than this bit, you’re still trying to give the reader the ‘correct’ conclusion. The right one is the one the reader comes up with himself.

Trying to get away with something

You can run into a plot point which is needed but doesn’t fit with what has gone before. Yes, she’s a bitch but if she doesn’t volunteer at the shelter, she won’t meet Jake. Or The floor has to collapse. Otherwise, how do I get them to the underground cave?

The temptation is to motor along with what you need for the plot, hoping that your readers won’t notice. News. They do with annoying frequency. Whenever I have tried an easy way out, someone invariably says, “But wouldn’t they feel that the floor wasn’t solid as soon as they stepped on it?”

The answer is to go back and fix the bits inconsistent with where you now want to go in the action. A nuisance, I know, but you often get a better plot if you do.

It is easy to inadvertently give the impression you think you’re smarter than your readers. You can avoid it by being alert to unintentional slips.