THE OTHER SIDE

Last week I decided to post the beginning of a novel that I am working on, take a risk; test the waters so to speak. As part of that post I asked for feedback and gave a promised to acknowledge and accept any and all responses received. Essentially I was looking for feedback on my writing to provide me with an insight as to what further work was needed. At this point in time I have decided to pull last week’s post until further work has been done on ‘The White Bread Child’.

But what about taking that risk? The risk of having my work scrutinised and commented on. Was putting it out there worth it? Did the risk pay off? In a weird way I have to say yes. Without taking that risk I would have continued on my merry way down a road to possible disaster. Better to do a re-write in the first draft then after you have sent it, with fingers crossed, to a dozen potential editors. So ‘The White Bread Child’ goes back into my computer files to fill up my time on those nights when I am wide awake at three in the morning and have a burning desire to put pen to paper.

So no, I don’t regret taking a risk on my writing. Taking risks teaches us valuable lessons. It teaches how to sit in those spaces that are uncomfortable and hard. It teaches us to stretch and grow and to turn the lens inwards on ourselves and outwards on others. Taking a risk on yourself, making yourself vulnerable can be, and is, liberating. It is the best thing that we can do if we want to live a life free regret. So I took a risk on my writing, and also a test.  A test of my reactions to these responses and the feelings which might come up when something important to me, something intensely personal, is being, at best, questioned, at worse, criticised. A test of how I would choose to respond.

What I now understand about myself is that after all these years I have finally learnt not to take things personally. Professionally I am Landscape Architect who has designed public spaces for local government, parks, playgrounds, that sort of thing, and in this space there have been occasions when my designs have been 'named and shamed' in local papers by reporters or residents who, rightly or wrongly, disagreed with the outcome. In one instance a reporter questioned whether the designer of the space had any children and knew anything about what makes a space safe for children to play in. But I didn’t take it personally, I took it as feedback. Because that was what it was, feedback.

The other big lesson I learnt was that I am now aware of how important it is to me to be authentic in my writing. To be credible as a writer I need to write from the heart, from my experiences. Without authenticity I might as well be writing Mills and Boon romance novels and people who know me personally know that will never happen. It is important to me to continue to write authentically, personally. Authenticity is what gives my stories body and life.

It is most likely that ‘The White Bread Child’ won’t make another appearance on this blog. Not in the near future anyway, unless I feel a need, or I'm ready to share or a moment of madness hits me. And if I do chose to share again, I hope that I can count on your feedback. It will be accepted, acknowledged and appreciated. 

Going forward, I will continue take risks with my writing and I will continue to test myself. Not to do so would be, for me, a far greater regret than taking the risk in the first place.