A Request to My Friends:
Ever been in a foreign land and tried to communicate with someone though you didn't know their language?
Ever tried to sing and wondered if your song sounded as wonderful to others as it did to you?
Ever have something you could not sell, so you tried to give it away, and had problems finding a taker?
I've spoken my language all my life and yet, as a writer, I wonder if I've mastered it. I'm never certain if what I said is what I wanted to say. Analysing and re-evaluating exact punctuation, grammar rules, and word choice between synonyms with different connotations soon give way to the question, "Does anyone notice? Is my precision perceptible? Does anyone even care? Who is going to read this?"
I wonder if my voice is heard. I wonder if I can hear it myself. Does someone need to see my name in the byline to know this is my work? Or does my voice come through in every line, like I hope it will?
I've faced the rejection of professionals whose sole job seems to be to sift the wheat from the chaff. Most of my work fell in with the chaff. How do I learn to judge my own work and only send the best of my offerings?
Doubts and misgivings are inevitable.
No knowledge is found in asking questions with no attempt to investigate the answers. The only techniques I know to answer these queries are to read and write without ceasing. Then, the hardest part of all, I need to be critiqued. I need others to tell me if I have succeeded or failed in my goals. What marks did I hit, what did I miss, and what should I not have bothered to target? In short, I need you, reader and friend, to tell me what my work made you think and feel.
Read my words and tell me what they say to you. Listen to my song and tell me if it rings in your heart. Accept and enjoy my gift, then give it to another, if you deem it worthy. Help me in my quest to be my best, and you will have my eternal gratitude. Be honest, not careful. Be cruel; I've had too much of kind. Never fear being rough for your abrasions will make my skill smooth and perfect.
In short, be the friend I believe you are.
Ever tried to sing and wondered if your song sounded as wonderful to others as it did to you?
Ever have something you could not sell, so you tried to give it away, and had problems finding a taker?
I've spoken my language all my life and yet, as a writer, I wonder if I've mastered it. I'm never certain if what I said is what I wanted to say. Analysing and re-evaluating exact punctuation, grammar rules, and word choice between synonyms with different connotations soon give way to the question, "Does anyone notice? Is my precision perceptible? Does anyone even care? Who is going to read this?"
I wonder if my voice is heard. I wonder if I can hear it myself. Does someone need to see my name in the byline to know this is my work? Or does my voice come through in every line, like I hope it will?
I've faced the rejection of professionals whose sole job seems to be to sift the wheat from the chaff. Most of my work fell in with the chaff. How do I learn to judge my own work and only send the best of my offerings?
Doubts and misgivings are inevitable.
No knowledge is found in asking questions with no attempt to investigate the answers. The only techniques I know to answer these queries are to read and write without ceasing. Then, the hardest part of all, I need to be critiqued. I need others to tell me if I have succeeded or failed in my goals. What marks did I hit, what did I miss, and what should I not have bothered to target? In short, I need you, reader and friend, to tell me what my work made you think and feel.
Read my words and tell me what they say to you. Listen to my song and tell me if it rings in your heart. Accept and enjoy my gift, then give it to another, if you deem it worthy. Help me in my quest to be my best, and you will have my eternal gratitude. Be honest, not careful. Be cruel; I've had too much of kind. Never fear being rough for your abrasions will make my skill smooth and perfect.
In short, be the friend I believe you are.
