Concerning Some Recent Criticism of Her Work (Part Two)

A lot of people who write self-help books for writers will advise you not to show your work to anyone in its early stages. You've got to get up some momentum, they warn, or you'll get discouraged before your project ever gets off the ground. Ask someone to read that rough draft of your first chapter, and chances are you'll never write another draft, let alone another chapter.

There's some wisdom in that advice. Who am I to argue with Anne Lamott (author of, among other titles, Bird by Bird, which was assigned in my undergraduate fiction writing class, years ago) or Julia Cameron (Grande Dame of self-help for blocked creative types, many of whom instantly become her disciples after reading The Artist's Way)?

However, it's advice I'm flagrantly disregarding – in the writing of this blog, at least.

Keeping my creative projects under wraps until I feel confident they're fit to be seen is a strategy that does NOT work for me. I never think anything I've written is fit to be seen – unless that “Woohoo! Look at me, I just crossed the finish line!” feeling is thrilling through me, and my vision's still pleasure-fogged. Let the poem or essay or pithy paragraph sit in the virtual drawer for even 24 hours, and the party's over: off with the rose-colored glasses, and on with the editor's monocle.

It's possible that this is an occupational hazard. For the past decade, I've been paid to fix other people's writing.

In any case, I've recently come to the conclusion that my best bet as a writer is to get my ideas out there before I have time to change my mind – or, in other words, to commit myself before I understand exactly what it is I've committed to. This may not be a good solution for everyone, but it's what I know I need to do.

Ergo, the blog.

Now, I have all kinds of reservations about push-button publishing, which I'll no doubt enumerate later. But one thing the blogosphere – as opposed to the bookstore or the library – has to offer a reader is this: a far more accurate picture of the process-to-product ratio.

When creative writing gurus advise you to keep those tender green shoots safe from the withering gaze of critical readers, the implication is that keeping your process private is the best way to ensure that your product develops into a kudzu vine robust enough to withstand whatever the eradication experts might think up next.

Well, I think anyone who wants to be creative needs to develop a more robust process. That's my quest, and I have a hunch that it will be successful.

To anyone who feels like tromping with me through the mud: I'm thrilled to have you along.