Butt-kicking

Tom Hanks said, “You learn more from getting your butt kicked than from getting it kissed.”

Yes. I think you do.

But, isn’t it nice to get that kiss every once in awhile?

I think in writing, you get your butt kicked a lot.

First of all, it is a very solitary experience. Others frequently don’t understand why we do it. It’s a compulsion that few feel. So much butt kicking occurs before you ever get a sale or even an accolade that you simply wonder sometimes if it’s all going to pay off in the end. However, most writers – real writers – are visionary. Despite disappointments that their families don’t comprehend, despite sacrifices that make little sense to loved ones, despite losing too much sleep and drinking too much caffeine, writers who make it possess a fortitude that would make them successful in almost any endeavor.

And really, when the butt kicking commences, what is the most valuable skill you have? Fortitude. That ability to will shaky arms to push you back into a sitting position so that you can reach the computer keyboard and continue.

The second big butt-kicker is criticism. Writers should expect to get a lot before they ever get a pat on the back. It’s like having a loaf of dry bread and only one spoonful of peanut butter. You got to eat a lot of the old yucky stuff before you find a slice with taste. But that tiny, smooth, creamy reward laced somewhere in the middle is enough to push you forward.

The first time I ever submitted anything for others to read, I had a loaf of the nasty stuff shoved down my throat with no water at all. It happened long before AotP was even a thought -- long before I met the community of friends I have here who criticize but also lump in the peanut butter, too. (And a few morsels of chocolate every now and then, as well! What a great group!)

Anyway, I posted fifteen pages of what I really considered to be among the best romance writing anywhere (ah, the naiveté of a beginner), and I received just about that many pages back in my first crit – all problems that I needed to correct. The last sentence of my crit – my molecule of peanut butter – said, “The hero is kind of yummy. He shows some potential.”

I’ve since shelved – in a deep dark corner – that unfinished story. But the book of whoop-ass in that crit was probably the best thing that could have happened. What if some poor, sweet soul had kissed that scene with ‘it was wonderful’, when in reality it sucked. Well, I’d still be that writer “with some potential”.

Sometimes, I kick my own butt. When life is very busy and taxing – a normal day for me – I kick my own butt with guilt that time finds itself on the bottom of the hourglass and I have yet no words on the page. I look at my day and say, “Where could I get five extra minutes to write?” And really, even with only five minutes a day, won’t the book get finished someday? Of course. But, I’m a now, now, now person, so I keep kicking my butt. It’s good for me.

Pen to paper. Just write. Even crap. I can fix crap. I can’t fix a blank page.

I’ll start where I am. I’ll enjoy the journey. Yeah – because black eyes, bruised ribs, and sore muscles are preferred over kisses. Not really. But I learn more from them. I learn when to duck, when to strike, when I’m most prolific, when my idea is one to run with rather than ignore, when I have something kissable.

Hit me. Kiss me. Just tell me to write.

Macy.