How Do You Accept Critique?

Time after time in my writer's group, I've seen it.

The stunned, baffled, and eventually muley look that says I can't believe y'all don't get how brilliant I am. We see it most often on a new member. Some one who says they want feedback and information on their writing, but secretly knows we will swoon with admiration the minute we hear their poetry or prose.

It's often a rude awakening to find out that most of us are swoon proof.

We are kind. We applaud the effort, but we offer--gently--truth.

As I watched the auditions for American Idol this year, I was struck again by how unprepared we are to accept honest feedback and simple critique. After being given a no by the professional judges, too many contestants begged for them to change their minds. Begged, especially in a whiny voice....Please, please, please, puleezzzeee...until *I* cringed in horror.

And had to laugh out loud when Simon or Kara asked a contestant who told you you could sing? Only to have the singer reply with 'My mom. My friends.' I wish I'd kept count of the times some one said this.

Note to creative souls....your Mama loves you. She believes everything you do is golden. And rightly so. You are her creation, after all. However, she may be just a tad prejudiced.

Just a tad.

The same with your friends. Here, though, I'll allow that most people don't know how to offer negative feedback. They don't want to hurt your feelings or damage your friendship. Telling a friend that you think they don't have a good voice or an artistic eye or a great garden plan is hard. For one thing, it is your opinion. It is likely that you are just as wrong as can be because you aren't an expert in the field. Secondly, no one wants the hurt feelings thing to follow them. Creative Souls are creative, sensitive, and artistic. In other words, we bleed with ease.

Taking the steps toward making your artistic life into a professional one demands you learn to listen to hard stuff.

One of my favorite rules in my writer's group is our 'no defending' rule. After you've read your piece for the evening, you must zip your lips and listen to the verbal feedback. No defending means not 'explaining' to the doofuses who didn't 'get' it. If you have to explain, your writing wasn't clear. After all, once your book is on the shelves of Barnes and Noble, there is no author standing nearby to explain passages. No sputtering...'but, but, but.....' No pleading 'please, please, please....' And certainly no bad mouthing the person offering critique.

There's been times when I vehemently disagreed with what someone said about my writing. The no defending rule kept my mouth shut tight. Remarkably, after a few day's perspective, I was able to see that just maybe that person had a point. If more than one person said the same thing, then I realized my writing had a problem I needed to fix. I won't even tell you about the blood bath that is professional photography competitions. Ouch.

Finding people who will be honest with you is an effort worth taking. Take a look around you. Who will offer you unvarnished truth? Value these folks. Especially if they are in your field. They are worth gold to you in your pursuit of excellence.

And don't you dare whine when something negative comes your way. Professionals don't whine. They go home and work even harder.

Now, go out and create something incredible so we can all tell you how genuinely wonderful you are.

Winter Blahs, part one

The mid-winter blahs have me in their cold, gray grip. It seems a bit pathetic since we haven't had a long or significantly cold winter. Lethargy, a surfeit of ideas, and a craving for cheap carbohydrates are some of the symptoms. Every problem presses down, every goal seems too hard, and the siren call of mindless TV beckons endlessly. Plain and simple seasonal affective disorder or SAD. The acronym sums it up nicely.

I wonder if creative souls are more sensitive to seasonal depression than other folks. I've fought with this all my life. Over the years, I've learned to cope with the winter blahs without resorting to mayhem or drugs....too often anyway. Over the next few days I'll share things that keep me afloat during this season.

1. Color. When the landscape is dead grass brown and the skies are gray, I crave color.

Wear something bright...a shirt, a favored piece of jewelry, or a happy scarf. My purple and sunflower lap quilt was designed with damp, gray days in mind. A perfect jolt of warmth and color.

Put up some bold art.

Print out your favorite flower or beach photos and hang them where you can see them every day.

Paint your fingernails.

Paint the walls.

Buy the big box of crayons and use every one.

Eat colorful vegetables and fruits and pretend you are eating sunshine.

Visit an art museum or a favorite shop and notice color.

Winter is the only time I buy flower bouquets since I grow my own the rest of the year. A bunch of purple tulips, the happy faces of yellow daisies, or sweetly scented hyanciths add so much life to a room. A five or ten dollar grocery store bouquet can last a week or more and give me much pleasure. Living green plants add a touch of life to a room, plus they actively filter the air of many toxins.

Erase the gray....How many ways can you add color to your life today?

Winter is a season of our lives. It can be a time of joy and creativity if we know how to approach it wisely. In the next few days, I'll post more tips on coping with this season.

Ways to Sabotage Creativity

Not feeling as creative as you'd like? Not producing the kind of artistic work you know you are capable of?

We all get into bad creative habits. Here's a few ways we sabotage our own creative endeavors.

1. We over schedule. Do I have to explain this one? If you are always on a committee planning an event somewhere, you rob yourself of the time you need in your studio. Learn to gently, firmly say no. (When I figure out how to do this consistently, I'll let you know.)

2. We get intimidated by others. We look at another's work or read another author's book and think, ' I can NEVER do as well as they do.'

Hogwash.

The joy and beauty of creativity in our lives is that what ever we produce will come through us and be forever stamped with our fingerprints. Two women using the same quilt pattern will not produce the same quilt. Each piece will have different colors and fabrics, expressing something unique about the person creating them. You have a style. Develop it.

3. We don't pay enough attention to details. Because we are often too over scheduled, we hurry through our art, instead of loving on the details. It's the small things that make a difference. Slow down. Enjoy the process of creation. Fiddle with fine tuning until whatever you are creating is as wonderful as you can make it. Then, by golly, release it into the wild to be sold or given or enjoyed by others.

4. We deny ourselves support. You need like minded creative souls around you. Hanging out with other artists from your field gains you experience and the wisdom that comes from experience. Expertise is something else you can learn. Around here, we often say, 'That person has forgotten more about ___________ than I will ever know.' Learn from each other. And do not limit yourself to just 'your kind.' I believe photographers can learn color and style from observing a gardener or quilter. A gardener can learn from a watercolor artist. An artist friend of mine taught me much that I apply to my writing today.

Besides, these artsy types speak your language and understand you in a way that all those 'normal' folks don't. Right?

5. We don't get real. Whatever you create should resonant within others or what's the point? If you stir your own emotions and experiences into the mix, then your writing or painting or sculpture will ring truer for the intended audience. I'm talking happiness as well as despair. It takes opening ourselves up, sometimes in painful, sometimes in delightful ways, to bring truth and honesty to our craft. Dig deep.

6. We quit. Again, do I need to say more? If you stop writing and submitting, you can not sell your novel to a publisher. If you stop painting, then you will never perfect that new brush technique. As long as you are working, learning, and doing, your artistic life has a chance to grow.
As Winston Churchill said, 'never, never, never, never, never give up.' Well, it was something like that and those words helped a nation win a war.

Imagine what could happen if you start saying them to yourself.

What Happens When It Doesn't Turn Out Right?

You know the feeling.

You've poured time, effort, and skill into a project that simply doesn't work out the way you wanted. Or you're pleased with the results of your efforts, but public reception is, shall we say, lukewarm, at best.

Sigh.

I hate that feeling, even though I know it is a part of life. Especially a creative life. Right now, I'm tired. A creative project took up most of my time and energy this week, but the total results were less than stellar. I'm disappointed to the point of grouchy depression.

Here's my methods for dealing with the disappointment:

1. Get some rest. Often after a big project which has taken enormous effort, I'm plain and simple exhausted.

Out of gas.

Spent.

Time for some quiet time. Read, doodle, swing on the porch swing, or go fishing. Sleep in or take a nap. Rest. Eat well. Everything looks better when you are not emotionally, physically, or creatively exhausted.

2. Get some perspective. Maybe the endeavor turned out better than the first reactions indicated. Review your writing. Take another look at your painting. Look over the project. What did work out well? What are your favorite parts? You initial disappointment might be tempered by realizing what was right about what you created.

3. Get real. Sometimes its true. What we did was awful. Not up to snuff. Poor. Acknowledge it, analyze it, learn from it, and move on. The first few times I read a piece at my writer's group, their critique was tough to take. Especially if I'd polished the words quite a bit before taking them out for an 'airing.' After the buzzing in my ears quietened down and I looked at my work with a fresh eye, I had to admit my critique buddies had point. In fact, I could reluctantly admit, they were often right. I absorbed the new knowledge, learned from it, and put it into practice with my next writing session.

Yes, I'm disappointed in this week's challenges, but I will not think of myself as a failure. I *choose* to think of myself as a student, always learning. With rest, and time, I'll be able to properly evaluate the situation's results. Next time I take on this particular project, the outcome will be different. Until then, I'm going to be kind to myself.