When Writing Friends Aren't: Sabotage and Self-Image

We can encounter destructive relationships in every area of our
lives, but when it comes to our creativity, they can be particularly
nasty.




Some people write in isolation. Either they aren't naturally sociable
or they find that critical feedback simply isn't helpful. Most of us,
however, create some type of support system at some stage of our
careers. Often it's early on, when we're struggling to learn the craft.
We may find a face-to-face group or an online workshop or other network
of fellow novices. The internet provides a wealth of opportunities to
meet such people, as do conventions. (When I was starting out, there was
a wonderful workshop-by-mail run by Kathleen Dalton-Woodbury; I'm still
friends with some of the writers I met by exchanging letters and
written critiques.)






Most of the time, beginning writers are honestly trying to help one
another. We may make mistakes as we learn how to give useful critical
feedback or make idiotic suggestions about marketing, but the basic
relationship is one of good will and support. Success, however small the
sale, becomes an occasion for celebration. When one member improves, we
all feel encouraged.




Trust is a crucial element in such groups. We work hard to learn to
accept criticism, to not be defensive, to take time to think through the
comments. While this vulnerability makes us more teachable, it also
leaves us open to manipulation and abuse.




Sadly, sometimes the people we thought were our friends and
supporters, our colleagues and conspirators in the adventure of creating
and publishing stories, turn out to be our most insidious adversaries.
Sometimes, the alarm comes in the form of a sinking feeling, a sense
that verges toward futility, after a discussion with a particular
person. Other times, we realize that once again, we have been lured away
from the precious time in which we intended to work. Often we have no
idea how that happened. We want to think well of our friends; we believe
their words even when their actions speak differently.





The whole issue of jealousy and sabotage on the part of those we have
trusted with our creative process, those we have relied on to be both
honest and tender with us, is complex and troubling. I can't do justice
to all its aspect here. The first step toward healthier boundaries is
realizing what is happening and that we are not alone. It's happened to
most of us.




I don't mean to say that people join writer's workshops with the
intention of eroding the self-confidence, not to mention the craft
skills, of the other members. I do mean that people are not always aware
of their own feelings and motivations. A person may truly believe he or
she means nothing but the best for another writer, all the while subtly
and unconsciously communicating something very different.




A writing friendship can begin as mutual support but not fare well
when one writer's career takes off and the other one's doesn't. We're
not supposed to feel jealous of another writer, especially a friend. But
without self-awareness, it's easy to slide into resentment. ("It's not
fair that he got published and I didn't when my story is just as good.")




Sometimes, resentment comes out in statements that undermine trust in
the other writer's judgment and work, pressure to go against one's
natural strengths, for example, to change genres, to aim for
unreasonable markets ("Why are you wasting your time writing sword and
sorcery when you should be writing steampunk?")




Occasionally, envy will prompt a writer to try to manage the other's
career, even to act as a sort of agent. Gossip is a common way of
venting frustration, damaging both reputations and trust. ("She only got
that story published because she slept with the editor.")




For me, it's important to find people I can trust, both within the
field and outside it. Sometimes I need a disinterested listener, one I
know will hold whatever I say in confidence, so I can work out what my
guts are telling me and how to deal with the situation. This helps me to
recognize my own "warning signs" and develop a vocabulary of responses.
I also need regular time with fellow writers, not only to chew over
specific writing problems but for general communication-of-enthusiasm
and mutual cheering-on. When I do this regularly, I am less apt to be
drawn into those relationships that are less healthy for me as a person
and as a writer.