
“In the mirror I did see
A timid, insignificant thing.
It raised its head
And kept its pride
And smiled as it met my eyes.
In the mirror I did see
That now-significant thing was me.”
—Sarah Edmonds
I had a conversation yesterday with one of my friends—and one of the best writers I know—where we talked about our early work. Throughout the conversation we discovered something that, I have to admit, wasn’t very surprising:
As a relatively new writer, I am very very weird.
While I proudly consider myself a decently odd human, this “weirdness” was something new to me. The cause? I actually like my old writing.
Now, I’m not saying everything I’ve ever written is perfect. I’ll go back and reread stories or rewatch films and I’ll see the errors, see the awkwardness, and see how some of the ideas are outdated or outright problematic. However, I don’t think I’ve ever truly hated any of my own work.
There’s this idea among writers, I think, that it’s almost taboo to recognize your own skill. People are constantly prefacing their work, at least when getting feedback, as “not very good” or “awkward.” It’s a defense mechanism, of sorts.
“If someone doesn’t like my work it’s okay because I don’t either. If I love my work and someone tears it apart then that’s what hurts.”
But I’ll be real with you for a second: it hurts either way. I can write something I absolutely hate and if someone else hates it too, or if they have a small criticism, it still hurts like hell. Writing is personal. That kind of pain is, unfortunately, unavoidable.
So, if walls of self-depreciation don’t work what should you do? Here’s my advice:
Take pride in your work. Own it. Don’t be afraid to admit that you think you’re capable. Even if you look back in a year or ten and the work you were so proud of doesn’t hold up, still be happy. Everything you ever create helps you grow. Be proud of that growth. It’s gonna suck when people don’t recognize your skill but that doesn’t make it wrong to believe in yourself.
Even if it seems hard sometimes, take pride in what you do. Always.
May all be well,
Sarah E.