Some days I feel just like poor old Psylocke here: no matter how bad assed I am, no matter how mad my skills are, I gotta get into the vacuum-sealed latex uniform and spend all my time hyper-extending my knees and breaking my spine for the entertainment of others. At least she’s not in heels–this time.
Today isn’t so bad. I slept well, got up at 6 AM, had to deal with a cranky computer but managed to whip it into proper form, and I’m finally getting my butt in gear here at somewhere close to nine-thirty. I have my plan in place for today, and it doesn’t involve playing games or suffering for strange things, though the later isn’t completely out of the question.
No, what I have to do is get some writing done. I need to get this Fantasy story finished, because I want to move onto something else. What, I’m not sure yet, but I do want to get onto something else. It’s been a while since I wrote an erotic fantasy that jumped into this sort of word range, and I’ve felt strange about this development. There’s that little trip hammer of doubt tapping away in the back of my mind that’s saying, “Nope, you shouldn’t be writing this, it’s going to suck, you’re going to find people laughing at this shit.”
I’ll admit, I’m sensitive to this sort of stuff. Sure, a few days ago I said it was okay to think you’re going to suck, because people with talent tend to fall into that trap. Then I take my own advice and kick it to the curb because, hey, I suck, and this story sucks . . .
Yeah, yeah, yeah. Stop being so hard on yourself. Why are you writing if you feel this way?
I came to a realization yesterday that I get way too wrapped up in my work, that I have a difficult time disconnecting myself from the story in the sense that when I’m given advice, I need to step back and look at it critically, and not get depressed because of something I don’t like. It’s a sucky thing to start spinning because you start beating up on yourself over things that other people blow off.
Being critical is good, to a point. You have to look at your work, all your work, with a critical eye. If you didn’t, you’d churn out crap, which happens a lot: that’s why we have Sturgeon’s Revelation. When you eye turns into a frickin’ shark with a laser, however, it can kill your creativity faster than said fictitious shark.
This is what’s been happening with me that last month or so. The Doubt Wagon pulled into town and won’t leave my driveway. It feels like every time I touch something, it turns into fail. It’s easy to be ripped apart by that–
What you need is someone who’ll give you honesty. Who’ll point out some things that need correcting, but at the same time tell you, “Your story is amazing.”
Writers are their own worse enemies. Stick to killing your characters–
It’s so much more fun to watch your readers suffer.