Dave Walsh's Blog, page 18

You say I can do it so well…

One of the most difficult parts about being a writer is believing in yourself. Sounds kind of silly, right? Clearly, I’ve made the decision that this is what I’m going to do, this is how I’m going to do it and I’ve already set the gears in motion. This is what I’m going to do, I’m going to give it my best shot and hopefully the whole thing works out in the end. The thing is, along the way, you sort of lose the support of everyone around you in the process and find yourself lost in a jungle of endless criticism.

It isn’t that your friends and family don’t believe in you or that they don’t think that you are good, it’s just that things have changed. There will always be some level of divergence when it comes to career paths and not everyone shares my level of insanity. I have a lot of talented friends who all have their own strengths and weaknesses, but not all share my insanity (or stability at home) to be able to venture out into the jungle without a safety net like I have. This means that we don’t have these encouraging conversations with each other anymore where we talk about what we want to do while analyzing our strengths and weaknesses.

This also means that nobody is telling me that I’m good at what I do anymore, nor am I really telling them that they are good at what they do, either. Like I said before, I’m lost in the jungle now and it’s far too late to turn around. I’ve been making a living as a writer (of a freelance sort) for a while now, which means there isn’t that encouragement to “get out there” and to “show the world what I’ve got.” I’ve been doing that for years now, so there really isn’t a need to give me that nudge anymore.

My work is out there and honestly people pay me for what I do now. I am paid for my expertise, my voice, my opinions and to get people talking. Of course, when writing online a lot of the feedback that I see is far from constructive and usually along the lines of “you disagree with me, kill yourself.” These people still click on my articles, they still read them, they still feel something from them and feel the need to leave a comment, send an angry tweet or even go as far as to find my email and send me shitty messages.

It’s a strange, unnerving feedback loop that happens where when I wasn’t actually doing I’d receive all of the praise and encouragement to get out there and do it, but then when I was doing it and are making a living off of it the only feedback that I’d get is from people that are upset by me and want me to end my life. Generally speaking, this means that I’m doing my job well, believe it or not. This is also why I’m making a push at writing fiction and transitioning away from my career as a blogger-slash-journalist, because I will still get some private praise from people that I respect, co-workers and peers, but the public feedback is always toxic, always angry. It’s easy to have thick skin as long as you love what you do, but if you don’t? Dear god.

Writers online are treated as sub humans that are there to be battered and mistreated because, well, anyone can do it, right? That is the general consensus; that anyone can be a writer, they just don’t have the time or energy to bother doing the job that I’m doing better than me. I had my share of trolly years on the internet for sure, but we’ve sort of reached a critical mass where everything is online and pretty much anything and everything can be said without much in the way of repercussions.

I’ve been asked by a lot of people over the years why I hate MMA now, why I am only critical and at times negative about the sport, the people involved with it and everything else. My long answer would be about it being a young man’s game, by that I’d just mean people newer to the sport, still passionate about it compared to me. That is opposed to someone like me who has been watching it for almost twenty years and writing about it for ten. My short answer is a lot more simple; the reason why I don’t care anymore is because of the community, the people and the toxicity. My heroes have retired to been beaten into obscurity and the people that were fans alongside me gave up on the sport and the community a long time ago.

I don’t love you anymore. That’s what I’m trying to say.

What I do love is writing and reading literature. A lot of the same criticisms and general insanity exist within this realm, but it’s easier to work around. I’m still told by people all of the time that they’ve always wanted to write a novel, but just couldn’t find the time. That’s of course ignoring the fact that I’ve been writing my whole life, studied literature my whole life, done tons of hours of writing workshops, been critiqued on every little thing, faced rejections, crazy highs and crappy lows as a writer to get to where I am. I’ve also had people run down my first novel, claim that they could do better, or try to “figure out” who it was about (seriously, your guess is probably wrong, it is fictional).

Writing is such a personal process that it is incredibly difficult to finally let that finished work out into the wild. It is, after all, a part of me. It is something that I crafted, spent time on, worried about, formulated and combed over manically until I felt it was ready for the world to see it. Just like anything else, though, as long as it is something that I’m proud of and happy with, there is no shame in presenting it to the world and letting them sink their teeth into it.

I’ve written online for both large and small audiences, I’ve played music live for both small and [modestly] large audiences, released an album into the world, released tons of articles both widely-read or completely unread and I’ve released one book into the world and am preparing for my second one. The thing is, even when people piss me off about writing fiction, I’m able to push it aside because writing fiction is still about the document that I store my book and myself.

In the coming weeks I’m going to be asking people to give this book a read for me, which is both one of the most exciting times as a writer and the most humbling. It can also be frustrating, but that’s another story for another day. There might be things that I feel compelled to add in after they read it, there might also be stuff that I subtract. I might also scrap entire sections and re-write them. This is the time when it’s all about putting my money where my mouth is and believing in myself and the work that I’ve created. This is me at my most vulnerable and alone, but I appreciate everyone who decides to come along for the ride with me and their feedback. You guys make it all that much easier.

Thank you.

Now I Know You Better

As a writer, I’m always trying to be better. By better I mean a better writer, sure, but I also mean just better in general. The job of a writer isn’t just to write words, but to be interesting, funny, engaging and to say things that somewhat important. Or maybe that is just how I view writing from my view of this windmill from this hill here, I’m not really sure yet. I’ve always felt that being a writer is an important job, though, which is why I’m doing it.

It’s hard not to feel like there is a lot of divide out there in the world and sometimes I get a bit overwhelmed by the sheer number of things that I want to express to the world. I want people to not only be aware of these things that I find important, but to read my stories and walk away feeling empowered by them, to feel moved by them. The thing is, I’m still not really perfect at this just yet. My writing improves on a daily basis and hopefully myself as a person is improving as well.

Coming from the wild and wacky world of quasi-sports writing I’ve seen a lot of shitty stuff, like just awful stuff. I’ve seen people with awful, toxic opinions and a chip on their shoulder that other people should know these opinions. One of the big ones is treating women like utter shit, like second class citizens and simple tools for their desires, attractions and everything else. It’s frustrating, to say the least. I’ve always been sympathetic to the cause, but have had problems really expressing it or not falling back to quasi-awful behaviors at times. I can proudly say that I’m better than most and that I do, indeed, try.

So as a writer this is something that is going to come up because, guess what? Women are an important part of telling a story. You can’t just have all dudes in your stories or it tends to be kind of weird and leaves you wondering if women even exist or if reproduction is some sort of osmotic process. In my forthcoming book (which no, I’m not going to tell you the title of just yet) there are a few women characters and they tend to reflect my experiences with women in my life, which is to say, complicated.

I have a marvelous relationship with my wife, but if we are honest about this here, reflecting that kind of thing really isn’t that dramatic or compelling. Stuff like my difficult relationship with my mother, some past relationships that were awful and so on make it into my writing a lot because they help to create texture to the characters. It’s difficult to create some of these female characters and to be aware that they need to be more than just tools to further a plot or flesh out a character, but living, breathing characters in their own right with their own desires and lives.

In this forthcoming book I was aware of a lot of these things, which is something that I can say that I’ve done better since The Godslayer, although I know that I can always do better. When discussing some of the ideas for my next book with Lori the other night, she said, “why can’t that character be a woman?” It was a simple question that when I thought about it for a few seconds, I realized that if I did make that character a woman that the struggles and plot become stronger. It also helps in my quest to be better.

Basically what I’m saying is that my next book will feature a female protagonist because, well, I want to be better, I strive to be better and this is a step in that direction. So stop acting like feminism is a dirty word, alright?

From the Zodiacal Light, or, Writing Full Time Rules

There’s something to be said for doing something full time as opposed to having to do it part time. There’s this ability to focus, to not have to worry about everything else, to not have to place an important project on the back burner because of “work.” For the past month or so I’ve been able to sit down just about every day and just write. Just write, not deal with things I don’t care about, not worry about late payments (okay, not true on that one, people still owe me money!).

I’m still doing other things, but they aren’t my main focus anymore, they are my part time, on-the-side thing now and it feels great. There have been days when I sit down and think, “man, I am starting late, I’m not going to get anything done,” then in a few hours I realize that I’ve just written over 2,000 words. It’s kind of crazy to think of what I can accomplish in just a few short hours when everything is fresh in my mind and I’m on a roll.

Being a part time writer, for a lack of better word, sucks. This awful feeling of dread everyday knowing exactly what I want to be doing, but that I couldn’t do it, instead I had to wait to do it after I’ve already spent at least eight hours in front of my computer. It’s hard for most people to imagine not being able to write on the side, but try going to your day job, then coming home and doing a variation of your day job for another few hours while your mind feels like it is overheating.

In the past month I’ve been able to write just about 30,000 words, which if I round is just about the 130 page mark. That’s a lot of writing. A part of me wishes that I had done this a whole hell of a lot sooner, but at the same time I’m okay with this happening now. I’m incredibly close to being done with my second novel at this point (done as in done writing, not done reading, re-reading, editing, re-editing, etc.) which is incredible considering when I was toiling with the idea of quitting everything and just writing for myself instead I was nowhere close to being done.

I guess the moral of this story is; people will often say that it’s tough to drop everything and do what you want to do. It is. It is very, very tough. I’m nowhere near done and I know that things will inevitably be shitty at some point, maybe even in the near future, but who cares? I’d rather have things be crappy while doing something that I care about than be frustrated every night by doing something that I don’t care about.

Money is important, but sometimes there is more to life, right?