Tag Archives: Negativity

Negativity #2: The After Effects of an Outburst

27 May

After much delay, I’m ready to do part 2 of my negativity series. I posted Negativity #1: Reply Letter to a Hater two weeks ago. This is something else that happened to me on that Wednesday that fought to bring me down but I’m not going to let it. Please note, this one was a lot worse.

About a year ago, I joined a writing group that meets on Wednesday evenings once a month. I really enjoyed the group for a few months and was sad when my second job stopped me from being able to go. Fortunately, I’ve been blessed with a situation that let me quit my second job, thus freeing up my Wednesday nights. I was excited to dive back into this group.

The group discusses three pieces at each meeting which are distributed ahead of time for members to read. I like that the members of this group are usually brutally honest but offer really great advice to fix anything they find fault with. It’s good to get such honest feedback from these people.

However, I had an issue with it this time. One member shared a piece he wrote where a non-native English speaker is having a conversation with the protagonist. We discussed the scene and offered feedback and were ready to move on when one member spoke up. It was the first time she’d said anything the whole meeting.

She said that the writer was making huge mistakes and glaring errors and went on to highlight one example. The heavy accent that the character had spoken in had contained a few grammatical errors, indicating that the character did not have a strong grasp of English. This member of our group had presumably taken offense at this because she attacked fiercely. She did some research and was able to find articles on Wikipedia that the language structure of the character’s native language would not have lent itself to him making mistakes in English the way that he did. For example, he wouldn’t have dropped a definite article and would have been more likely to mess up certain phrases. She ended her feedback by saying that these mistakes tell her as a reader that the writer is lazy, doesn’t care very much about his story, and that she felt she shouldn’t bother reading if he didn’t care enough to do this research.

I was struck dumb. Her words were so pointed and obviously directed at the writers ability to write well and not at the writing. She crossed the line that critiquers have to be sure to avoid and went after the person, not the art. This was something he was bringing forward for critique, obviously looking for advice like what was at the base of her attack; that he should research the language structure of his character’s native language. But I’m shocked that she went where she did instead of, “You should look up language structures for these characters. I found information on Wikipedia that will be helpful.” Why the parts about his personal character and ability as a writer?

As writers, we’ve voluntarily decided to participate in an industry that is already against us. Paying to submit work that you get paid very little for in exchange for the hours of work that went into your pet project. Why in the world would we want to discourage each other from doing something that requires so much dedication? Why would we ever tell someone that their work isn’t what it should be and discourage them from trying again when we pay editors to tell us that and they do it in a nicer way? You’re giving a free critique and the writer’s publication opportunities are not riding on what you have to say so he doesn’t have to listen. If you have a real suggestion, phrase it in a way I might listen to instead of yelling at me. No one responds well to being yelled at.

Here’s the worst part of the situation; no one told her to stop, myself included. I was so shocked I couldn’t say anything and it wasn’t until the writer snapped back that any of us were able to move on to something else. So we did another critique and were ready to leave when a member brought up what had happened and said we should talk about it. His message was not to take things so personally. I think that’s very fair advice. HOWEVER, you can only ‘not take things personally’ when they’re not personally directed at you. The critiquer’s comments were pointed, direct, personal. The member who brought this up saw more fault in the writer than the critiquer. I completely disagree.

I’m trying to decide if I ever want to go back to this group. I’m bothered that this woman thought it was okay to say what she did, that other members found fault in the writer’s reaction, and that from the conversation surrounding it, I get the feeling that this has happened before.

There seems to be a culture in the group that I can’t get on board with. Even when I hate something that someone’s written, I find a nice (or at least emotionless) way to say what I think needs to change. I would never say those things to anyone because I would never want them said to me. I’m thinking of giving the group one last try, but I’m really tempted to never go back. I’m considering another activity that would conflict and it’s easy for me to decide what to drop. I don’t feel comfortable enough bringing my work to the group so what benefit can I get from attending?

One of my faults my entire life has been to not quit something when I should. It leads to unhealthy relationships and commitments that I’m reluctant to make. I’ve been trying to work on this opportunity so I can focus my efforts where they count and I’m seeing this as a test of my strength. Maybe I shouldn’t give it another chance to be sure, but maybe I should make the cut.

Reader, I hope you’ve never dealt with such strong negativity, but I’m curious to hear your experiences if you have. How do you deal with harsh critiques? Have you been a part of a group whose culture was not supportive? What did you do?

Here’s to moving past this negativity and finding light and encouragement!

Until next time, write on (and never stop).

You can follow me on GoodreadsFacebookTwitterPinterest, and Instagram. I’m available via email at SamAStevensWriter@gmail.com. And as always, feel free to leave a comment!

Negativity #1: Reply Letter to a Hater

13 May

I am here to report on my first blog troll. He wasn’t hiding too well under the bridge and I’m ready to shine the light on him. Well, that is, without telling you his name. Instead of giving this troll the response he expects, I’m going to post his letter here and follow that up with my reply. Please enjoy.

This email came to me last week on a day where the world seemed to be pounding negativity and discouragement into my brain. I got a rejection letter, this email, and then had a really bad writers group experience which I’ll post about later. To deal with that negativity, I’m going to write about it and try to show that negativity is only what I make of it. I”m going to try to make these positive.

Before I get started, you should know that my most popular post on this blog has been my Book Club Reflection for The Light Between Oceans which I posted in January. For reasons unknown to me, a lot of people have looked this up in search engines and I’ll get 10+ hits per day on the post (which for me is usually about 20% of my total views). This email was in reaction to that post.

Because I am a physicist, my wife thought I’d like The Light Between the Oceans. It was horrible. 
Wife went to her book club and picked up an article by you.
As for the cover, the picture is not of the type of light described in the book.  I quote the wikipedia(which you should read)
In recent times, many Fresnel lenses have been replaced by rotating aerobeacons which require less maintenance. 
That’s what you see: the cylindrical body of an aerobeacon,  not the figure of a man. 

Also, you treat the personnae of the book as real people when they and the plot is all made up.
I tolerate writers and English majors to fumble the science in their books, bu t you fumble the English language. 
For one, Janus, was a male god, not a goddess. (Learn some Latin). 
AND
English has a verb “to bear”. 
bear
bore
borne
NOT “bared”.

Short, sweet, and aimed at the heart. I’m not sure what this man (and it is a man, in case of any confusion, based on the name) hoped to accomplish with this letter. Maybe he was trying to be helpful and point out a spelling mistake? Or maybe he hoped to be a troll and discourage me. Either way, I’m not concerned. If I were to reply to him, here’s the letter I would send.

 

Dear Sir,

Thank you for sending me a letter on my blog, Taking on a World of Words. I’m sorry that you did not enjoy the book The Light Between Oceans by M.L. Stedman.  I found it to be a very thought-provoking and an enjoyable read and it seems your wife enjoyed it as well. I’m glad she could find a book she enjoyed.

I want to again thank you for letting me know that my post is being distributed at book club meetings. This is probably the most flattering news I’ve yet to receive about my blog. I’m glad that the conversation I had with the ladies and gentlemen of my book group can help inspire discussion in other groups. I’m very touched and so glad to hear this.

Cover Image via Goodreads.com

Cover Image via Goodreads.com

To your point on the cover, I’m still of the opinion that there is a man in the lighthouse. I looked this up on the internet and was unable to find anything conclusive so this is only my opinion. I see what appears to me to be an arm on the right side of the image and it appears that the figure has a hand on its hip because there’s a gap of light coming through the middle. That’s part of the reason I argue that it’s a person and not a lens. I looked up the page you referenced and I don’t think the image looks a lot like the aerobeacon, which is much more cylindrical. If it is lighthouse equipment at all, I think it’s more likely to be the Fresnel lens as this and the cover image share (in my opinion) a much more similar shape.

I think the main reason I treat the characters and plot as if they were real is because I’m a writer. When I write a character, he or she becomes very real to me. I sometimes wonder if I”m passing this person on the street. It’s almost like the film Stranger than FictionIf you haven’t had a chance to see this movie, I believe it’s one of Will Ferrell’s best works. Because I see my characters so vividly, it helps me to see any fictional character as clearly as if they were my neighbors. If they didn’t seem real, then the writer did a poor job of making believable characters. I think the plot could happen and that’s what’s intriguing about the novel. I referenced a real case in the post you read, the Baby Jessica Case, which happened in a town near where I live. This case speaks about who a child’s ‘real’ parents are, much in the same way the book does. If the setting seemed at all unbelievable, that would again reflect poorly on the author. However, I think Ms. Stedman did a wonderful job crafting believable characters and a conceivable plot and that it’s a tribute to her that I can speak  of them as if they were real.

Thank you for pointing out those simple mistakes that I overlooked. I appreciate your attention to detail.

I’ll close this letter the same way I close all my posts as I encourage everyone to find the writer inside themselves.

Until next time, write on.

-Sam A. Stevens