Fans line up for poster signing
The curse of being creative is that your work is so personal that it’s literally a piece of you. It’s natural to want people to love it.
If they adore your work, than that means that they adore you.
Once they get a taste of their first fix, Artists start craving the high that comes from the adoration of others. The drug is what they hear from their admirers: “I’ve been a fan of yours for years” or “Your artwork speaks to me” or “You are a master”.
These are the accolades that we live for. But the drug is addictive. And if one person out of a hundred doesn’t love your work, their dislike of it cuts deep into your soul. It’s personal, and it hurts.
I’d like to think that I’m too logical to crave compliments as a writer. But deep down, I need that pill of approval, too.
Recently I ran into a few artists that I’ve long admired at the Surfing Heritage Museum opening. It turns out that they both follow my blog. Artist David Lozeau said “It’s as if you were talking right to me when you wrote that piece on the bro deal.” Another artist named Big Toe tracked me down to tell me that my blog on The Deal Memo solved a big problem for him.
I felt like I had just sniffed top-grade glue. Their compliments lifted me off of my feet.
But then one little negative comment will make me crash and burn.
Such is the case when I asked my husband to critique my writing last night.
“I don’t like that line that you just read. It sounds pompous.” Drew said, really meaning to be helpful.
Even though I had asked for his opinion, the criticism stung and my spunky mood suddenly turned dark. “What exactly do you not like about it?” I insisted that he be more specific.
“I just didn’t like it. I liked everything else that you wrote, but I didn’t like that one line.” He said, shrugging his shoulders.
Why is it that for every one criticism we need ten pats on the back to counteract it?
My writing-coach was critiquing the same piece that Drew didn’t like. “Oh, I think you should keep that line in there. I really like it.” She said, and then added the wisdom of a long-time writer, “But you should write what you think works best.”
And that helped me to realize something very important.
Not everyone is going to love your work. Not everyone is going to hate it.
The most important question is: Do you like it?
Maria xxoo
Consider this one of the pills of approval. Great article!…
I try and keep my ego out of the process, the keyword is try…but like it or not, the feeling of “significance” is one of the basic human needs.
Jay, thanks for my daily pill!
Ego – what is ego? Oh yeah, it’s that pesky little thing that we strive our entire lives to get rid of!
I recently wrote a short comedic screenplay and had the opportunity to see it performed live on stage. It was such an amazing high…even better than actually being one of the actors, which I usually end up doing. But it was a great experience to be out of the box of my comfort zone and to be experiencing my own creation with a certain sense of anonymity. It still left me with a type of high…but a more subdued one. I was feeling the rush because I created something good, but I didn’t have that notoriety that you normally get when you’re up in the spotlight. It was a great way to get the fix strictly for myself and not based on what other people though about my work.
Kathy, thank you so much for reading my post! Congrats on having your screenplay performed live on stage. That must have been so rewarding. Sorry I was such a putz to partner with 18 years ago. You are a great writer, and I was an idiot! I’m all grown up now….
High Five on the realization!
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Well, Maria, once again this is a great post and thanks for sharing.
Look at it this way, though: for every critic that found your line objectionable, there is one admirer out there who likes that line too.
I used to listen to an old song by the Beatles, “Here Comes The Sun” in order to forget the freezing chills of the insipid winters, but I know of people who find rock and roll passe. And dislike the music of Lennon.
You can’t please everybody and you can’t be all things to all people.
I happen to be a fan of your work, but I am sure you also have had your fair share of critics too. That’s life and I guess we have to take it on the chin and learn how to roll with the punches. What can you do?
On the other hand, critics can also help you improve your craft if they are good, well-meaning, and point out flaws. You can learn from such experiences and improve the next time. It is a sad fact, however, that only too often we come across some people who give us a tongue-lashing without bothering to provide any constructive feedback.
Perhaps such cynical people are avoidable, since they have very little to contribute, and probably don’t have your best interests at heart?
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LOVE IT! 🙂
Another wonderful post! Funny, I ask my husband about my art, but never my writing…hmmm…I wonder what that’s about! 🙂
You are so right. It’s so difficult to commit to doing the work, putting myself out there and taking the risk. I don’t want to ruffle people’s feathers or make people upset with me, due to something I have said that may or may not be offensive.
This is so true, it’s like you were writing that just for me 🙂
I’ve worked with professional writers of all sorts, from newspapers to books and I don’t think I’ve ever shared someone elses work as often or widely as I share yours. I love it!
Great article. I think the last question is not “Do you like it?” but… Does your work earn you a living?
You could love your work, but maybe the majority of the public do not. If you’re looking to be a Working Artist, the idea is to create work that sells. I may not like every subject I paint, but I create for the customer. If they’re happy, they give me money. It makes the world go round.
When I went to college 20yrs ago, I was studying Graphic Design. Other art students that I met while there were studying Fine Art. Now, these individuals had the mentality of, “I paint for me, not for the money.” Hence the term, Starving Artist.
When you’re painting dark images and want to discuss how Satan has a strangle hold on us and society and probably have a pentagram hanging over your bed… blah blah blah,… I’d want to kill myself too.
Demons and other gothic imagery is not going to sell to the majority. Maybe if you step away from the canvas and painted a set of a Harley tank and fenders, it might keep you busy. Otherwise you might find yourself living in Mom’s basement for the rest of your life, just you and your art.