INSECURITY

 

Many writers of fiction are pathologically insecure. They are doubters, second-guessers, Monday-morning quarterbacks, and pessimists. Their literary glass is always half empty. To survive, novelists must develop a thick skin. They take criticism badly, mostly because they are their own worst critics. 

Thus, I am not a big fan of writers’ critique groups. 

I had a particularly bad experience once. I found myself at the first meeting being lavishly praised by one participant and unmercifully shredded by another. I might have weathered that, but both had read the same book! One thought I had real talent. The other thought I had real nerve publishing such drivel. Neither offered suggestions. Just gushes or scorn. I left, never to return. I believe that neither critique had merit, since neither person had written a book. They wanted to be novelists. A writers’ group of published authors might be more valuable. They are likely to be more circumspect in their comments, good or bad.

I used to agonize over the bad reviews. The only ones I take seriously are those that deal with typos and grammar, which I try to fix in later editions when appropriate. I say “when appropriate” because some of the phrases are intended to be ungrammatical. A character who is an illiterate thug would not speak the King’s English. Even some of my smarter protagonists often use contractions or slang. 

Some Amazon reviewers complain about there being too much violence or sex in my books. They apparently don’t watch any television. Other reviewers who think my plots are too fantastic. Again, they apparently don’t watch TV or read the papers.

So, I have developed a thick skin. But I still am wracked by insecurity. In one of my thrillers, my characters are involved in the world of cryptocurrencies. I did research and tried to turn arcane crypto terminology into words that humans could understand. Now, I hope that no one who read the book was lured into the current crypto catastrophe.

I told you I was insecure!