I'm sorry, Did my Stilleto Catch You in the Ego?

I admit it. I’m a classic overachiever. I’m never satisfied with doing well. I’m pushing for Wow! 

I have a difficult time committing to anything I’m not passionate about. A lack of passion leads to mediocrity. It distresses me deeply to plaster a happy façade over the misery of just doing “good enough”. ”Good enough” may meet the standard I’m being measured against, but it doesn’t meet the standard I have for myself–the standard that pushes me to exceed your expectations.

I realize this is obsessive behavior, and it can make me difficult to work with. Not everyone wants to push that hard. But as I look at the people I admire, they all have it, that perfectionism. It doesn’t mean that over achievers are perfect, far from it. It means that when they set their minds on something, their focus is relentless.

That’s why I love writing. I start with my first cup of coffee in the morning and continue well into the night. My ability to achieve my goal does not rely on the performance of others–others who may or may not be as passionate as I am.

I thrive on the feedback. Not the fluffy critiques like “nice” or “well done”, but the pen stabbing constructive criticism that cuts the fat from my writing.  Mind you, I am not belittling the support I have received here and on other social networks. As a writer, it’s satisfying to know my work reaches out and touches someone, or imparts valuable information. But you see, I distinguish between comments (a communication meant to address the EMOTIONAL impact of a piece) and criticism (a communication meant to address the TECHNICAL aspects of a piece).  

Many of you know I’ve started my first novel. Recently, a mentor of mine read the first chapter. It was very exciting to receive the manuscript back with all of its lines, squiggles, and marginal notes. “Shutter the first page” she wrote. In other words, get rid of it. Wow, the whole page? But she’s right, it needs to go. They say the first page is usually the warm up, the formality of getting acquainted with pen and paper. It’s basic advice published in almost every “how to write” book, but there it was, that warm up page mocking me from the neatly typed font of my own work. For me, it’s evidence that you have to actually make the mistake before it leaves an impression.  I am so grateful for the clear, experienced eye of someone honest enough to bring it to my attention.

I make a lot of mistakes as a perfectionist. Like forgetting not everyone else is one. Not everyone makes the distinction between a comment and a critique. For those who don’t, writing can be a brutal business bruising fragile egos. (See the blog The Rejecter.) The bitter backlash marks their lack of professionalism, but I only hold that against those who seek to be professionals. Many people write simply because they like to. It’s a hobby born out of self-expression, and should be treated with a little more delicacy. This is a skill I have just begun to learn.

If you want to become a professional writer, swallow your pride and be prepared to be torn apart. Don’t take it personally. Don’t waste time with retaliation. Roll up your sleeves and dig deeper.

If you’re happy with your current level of work, stay in the shallow waters of your own writing circles. The literary world is full of sharks, and they can smell blood.

Republished with permission from Modern Matriarch.