On Criticism

Someone—I will not say who—has lately been accusing moi of being overly critical. Me? Critical? Never!

Okay, maybe a little.

It’s good to be critical sometimes, like if there’s a document to be edited for work. I’ll never forget the day I discovered that a former boss, rather critical herself, had sent out a letter to tens of thousands of subscribers likening a character in the current stage production to the children’s game of "Hungry Hungry Hippies".* For some reason, she was not appreciative when I pointed out the mistake. I think she was just bummed that she’d been out-criticized.

When writing a first draft, it’s necessary but hard to turn off that internal editor, or superego, or whatever one wants to call it. That little voice that says, “You don’t know anything about writing fiction. You should get a degree in it before you even start this project!” or “Even really good writers who have worked at this for years and years can’t get their novels published! What gives you the right to waste everybody’s time?” or “What you wrote tonight is crap. You’d have made better use of the last hour of your life if you had done the dishes like you were supposed to. Now you’ve wasted everybody’s time and let your family down.”

My internal editor speaks in italics a lot.

One should note that I chose to spend my lunch break writing this blog entry about being critical, rather than actually working on the novel. It’s much easier to write critically than creatively. Which is probably why we all do the former so much more often than the latter.

*Details of the incident changed slightly, to protect the critical, but the gist is the same. Wouldn’t Hungry Hungry Hippies be a good game, though? Picture the little plastic bearded and dreadlocked heads munching on organic granola, or, in a pinch, Ho-hos and Doritos. Give ‘em some snacks, man!