Taking Writing Personally

For awhile now I believed in the notion that, in order to be validated as a writer, I needed to be published. With each rejection letter I received, I subscribed to the idea that something must be wrong with my writing. If someone else (especially someone working in the publishing industry) does not want my work, then I must be less than or inferior to those who have novels and books in print.

And while I am no longer devastated to the point where I want to eat an entire container of Cherry Garcia (the full-of-fat kind) with each rejection, I still cannot help but take it a little personally. Fellow writers advise the opposite. Do not take it personally, they say. But, I wonder, how can we not? We as writers sink so much of ourselves into our work; it is personal business. It is not the same as making a mathematical error. Sure, I might mess up someone’s closing costs on a loan or shortchange someone a twenty in the teller line. But I have not personally put myself out there—my history, my thoughts, my aspirations, my inner self. When we write, we expose ourselves to the rest of the world (or at least to those who we choose to read our work). So when we send out queries, sample chapters, or whole manuscripts, and they come back with the proverbial stamp of rejection all over them, we should take it a little personally.

I was given the book Art and Fear by a co-worker of my husband. It is a compelling read. The authors (David Bayles and Ted Orland) advocate for the making of art. Not the selling of art, but the making of it. It has definitely transformed the way I view my own writing. I no longer see it as the crafting of saleable material for the general public, but as the process of writing, the doing of writing, the need to mold words into art. I highly recommend this book to anyone struggling with the publishing process, to anyone who doubts he or she is a true writer. Despite what the industry may say to you, keep writing. I know for me, it is something I have to do whether I am published or not.