Criticism is something we can avoid simply by saying nothing, doing nothing, and being nothing. ~Aristotle
I was doing a little blog-hopping-- only a little because I've spent every ounce of energy I have and my bed is calling me... "Kristaaaaaa, Kristaaaaaa, I'm warm and deep with three inches of memory foam softnessssss..."
What was I doing? Oh yeah, the blog.
I saw the wonderful ladies at Writing on the Wall had a new post here. Julie Wright shared her thoughts on the pain of critique and bearing it better if we took some pain meds beforehand, or, actually, maybe we would submit more if we knew it wouldn't hurt so much. It's a sweet boost, so go read it. But come back here.
Because I was thinking about pain and what it can do. Paralyze us? Make us grit our teeth and bear it?
About 16 1/2 years ago a car going 65 mph hit my stopped car from behind. Didn't see us at all. Mine and my baby's survival was a miracle. Because of her car seat, my little girl was frightened, but perfect. I walked away, however, with severe muscle tissue damage in my lower back. I'm in some level of pain every hour of every day. People compliment me on my excellent posture. The truth is, if I slouch, the pain meter spikes quickly. I try to avoid that.
It's like walking around with a knife stuck in my back. When it gets worse, someone is twisting the knife. Every hour of every day. I fought depression. I won.
Then a few years later, my marriage nearly fell apart.
We sucked it up. We made it through. We fell in love again.
And then we lost a child.
It's a risk, as writers, putting ourselves out there. It could hurt. It could help. Use what's given, find what works, make the changes, meet halfway, follow your gut, scrap the rest.
I keep submitting, because critiques and rejections are tough, but I know some things hurt more.
I can handle it. So can you.