Baseball Bats

“Teach Yourself By Your Own Mistakes.” William Faulkner

Annie, my eight-year old piano student came to see me today for a lesson. Normally, a very enthusiastic student, she’d had a bad week. A new piece had become intimidating. Her mother said, that Annie couldn’t stand all the mistakes she was making and had stopped practicing. I was gearing up for the “how to practice through the hard times” pep talk, but Annie didn’t look frustrated at all. She was in a great mood and couldn’t wait for me to show her how to play the song. With a huge grin on her face, she said, “I beat my inner critic over the head with a baseball bat to get him to go away!” (“inner critic” her words, not mine).

“Really?” I asked, trying to act as if I heard this every day. “Did it work?”

“Yes,” she yelled, jumping up off the bench and clapping her hands together.

We went on to have a delightful conversation about the various ways to dispose of the inner critic, (she favored putting it on a spider and dipping it into coffee).

I’ve been a songwriter for twenty-five years. A novelist for three. One thing for sure is the ongoing opportunity for making mistakes. Big mistakes. But what exactly is a mistake?

If I define a mistake as not getting it right, then I get discouraged and I’m tempted to give up. If I define a mistake as, “I learned something new, or, as is often the case for me, “I did THAT again!!?, then mistakes can become an interesting challenge.

So how do you cultivate a more positive relationship to your own writing issues? How can you step into a place where you believe that finding a bazillion mistakes in your manuscript will make you a better writer, and you are inspired to forge ahead- avoiding all temptation to shred your manuscript?

Like my student, each of us has to find their own way to relating to mistakes and frustration. Here are a few things I’ve learned over the long years of writing.

-I always make sure to have at least one “YES!” person on my creative support team. They don’t have to be a writer, just someone who loves my work no matter what. (Yes, mothers do count!) Someone who loves my first draft just as much as my last. Once I’ve got uncritical support to help placate the inner judge, I make sure I’ve got a strong critique group. Preferably people who know as much or more about writing than I do.

-Then, I LISTEN to what they have to say. I have a rule that I started years ago when I was a newbie songwriter. The person I played a new song for was required to say “I LOVE this! It’s your best song ever!” (No matter what they really thought). Then and only then, could I hear any feedback-and I was fine with whatever they said. If they gave feedback first, no matter how good or constructive, I often put the song away. This little trick ALWAYS works for me.

-When I moved into novel writing after all those years of songwriting, I had to let go of knowing anything about technique! I was a sponge for new information. Now I understand a lot more about craft and my own writing habits. Still, there are major holes in my writing technique, and probably always will be. So when I get hooked by these issues, I go back to back to something that was easy to do when I was just starting. The Buddhists call it, “Beginner’s Mind”. For me, it’s about taking it one step at a time. It’s about forgiving myself for what I don’t know, and being very gentle with resistance and negative judgement. It brings me back to why I’m writing. Because it’s what I do. Because I love it.

-I try to stay curious. I’m curious about why my writers’ group doesn’t like my chapter, or my dialogue, or my description. I welcome differing opinions. Although finding out I have a recurring “bad” habit in terms of craft is no fun, (You mean other writers DON’T do that??), it’s also liberating. I realize I’m one tiny step further in my quest to be a better writer.

-I’m reminded of a New Age turned high tech platitude (I HATE to use cliches, but this is so true): “Turn your mistakes into opportunities for growth and change.” What’s the point of writing if it isn’t stretching me in some way? The creative process at its fundamental core is about stepping into the unknown. How can I dance with my muse if I stay in my comfort zone? She will get bored and leave me to dance alone. I must admit, it’s the thrill of creating that drives me. Otherwise, why bother? This is HARD and I could be spending my time eating chocolate. (Okay, I eat chocolate anyway, but you know what I mean!)

-When it gets really tough, I try to put things in a bigger perspective. I remind myself of the fact that I have a life in which I have time to write. That, in and of itself, is a great luxury and blessing. I don’t take it for granted.

-I’m also considering getting a baseball bat and putting it next to my computer.