On Writing: Why It’s Okay To Suck
And no, I am not kidding.
In fact, such awfulness is typical and, if handled properly, a sign of great things to come.
Still not kidding.
Here’s my story on this subject. I didn’t speak until about five, but once I started, I loved to tell stories about worlds in my head. My first was an elaborate multi-generational quest set in a world inspired by the game Candyland (the bad guy lived in a chocolate palace). Soon, I was sharing these stories at school—during class, unsolicited—to the point where the nuns had to set aside ‘special story time’ for me so I’d shut up for most of the day (yeah, I was that kid). Once I got the knack of writing, I compulsively penned my tales instead, much to the nun’s joy. Later, when it I hit upper grade school, English class was my personal bitch. Oh, how I thought I rocked.
And lo, Freshman year of High School arrived. With it came more nuns and my first big-girl High School English paper. Man, I worked hard on that sucker. I handed it in and waited with baited breath for the inevitable 100 to come back, the page littered with side notes on my awesomeness. Sure enough, the paper came back, but not with a 100 on the top.
I got a 67. Not a total failure, but pretty darned close. Whoa.
‘Devastated’ pretty much describes my reaction to this 67. My life was predicated on the concept that I rocked at writing. Now, this seemed no longer true. Even worse, there were kids in my very same class that got perfect 100′s on their first paper. Holy shit. They were better than I was. At. Writing.
This launched some major soul searching. I debated about never writing again, for reals. I felt mightily crushed and lied to…what were all those accolades in years gone by? What silly, torturous games were the nuns playing with me in grade school? This mope-fest went on until I eventually pulled up my big girl panties and went back at it, working hard for a better grade. This was Freshman year. I didn’t get a 100 on a writing essay until I hit Senior year of English. So there you go.
When I got to college, I had no problems getting good grades, but there were other shocks in store. I met some other writers who were so freaking amazing, it made me want to drop writing again. For example, one kid I met Freshman year wrote his essays in iambic pentameter because, well, he was bored. Bored, I tell you! And it was goooooooood stuff. Like, I could work for weeks and not come up with two lines that were half as lovely. I don’t know where that kid is now, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he hit his own version of a ’67′ at some point, just like I did, and had to face the question: now that I have to work my ass off for this, is this still worth it?
Now, the ‘worth it’ conundrum isn’t really a question anyone can answer for you, especially when it comes to writing. That said, at the time, I think it might’ve helped moi to know that the cycle of sucking-to-getting-better is pretty typical. In fact, it’s a sign that your work is growing, and that’s not just okay, that’s amazing.
Today, I sincerely hope that every book I write kicks the ass of my last one. Because, at the end of the day, that kind of suck is awesome.
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