Someone from my critique group gave me a bad critique of my writing. It was bad because he talked to me and implied that I don’t edit my work even though the piece I had submitted had been reviewed several times before by professional writers. In addition, his critique tried to change the meaning of my writing so that the story I was telling wouldn’t be the same story anymore. I have come across this type of editing before. It is really subtle, but it takes the writer to be confident in their own voice and not letting anyone change it.
I was thinking about that today because with my OCD of course, I asked the question: could this man be right? I asked my husband to get a different perspective. There’s just too much evidence that he isn’t. The sad part is that I realize that it’s a pattern in my life. Despite overwhelming evidence, some person, like my mother or a roommate or whoever, comes and tells me that I am less than what I know I can be, and I start to question myself. The situation makes me a little frustrated and angry. Life is too short for me to be worrying about what someone else thinks if all they want is to use me to feel better about themselves.
I was thinking about the fact that I took an editing course in my studies. I know how to edit better than most people because I understand that editing is about finding the strengths in writing and weaknesses, but the editor knows that there’s never anything really wrong in the writer’s work because it is an artistic expression. An editor isn’t there to grade the work or point out where it is all wrong, the editor is there to help the writer make the work better. Maybe that’s why, I am so reluctant to force my opinions on other people because I have a legitimate respect for their artistic expression.
Maybe that’s because it is the same way that I feel about life. We all walk a path and each of us has our own path. We can share our experiences and even support each other in walking that path, but when it comes down to it, no one can walk my path but me. I can get help from an editor and support from other writers, but no one can tell the story that I want to tell except for me. I have the right to demand that others respect that.
My faith saved me. May God’s peace reside in all of our hearts.
