Want to Become a Better Writer? Fail More Frequently.

After a grueling critique session, a fellow writer asked me, How can you take all that criticism and not let it get to you?

The first thing I told him is that sometimes it does get to me, but I’m better able to throw it off than I was earlier in my career. I’m more resilient. Maybe some of that comes with age, some of it with wisdom.

The most important thing I said: I expect my writing to be criticized. Why? Not because my writing is that bad, but because that was the nature of the meeting we just wrapped up, a critique session. (This happened when I was an advertising writer, but this conversation could have just as easily happened after a short story or novel of mine had been critiqued.) I went into the meeting asking for constructive criticism, and that is what I got. Why should I feel down about getting what I wanted? If anything I should be happy.

But don’t you get that sickly feeling in your stomach? The feeling that you seem to be nowhere on this project yet it’s due to be completed and approved by the client in just a few days, my colleague asked me.

I tried to broaden the perspective, and said: I am always trying out new ideas, new approaches, and most times they don’t work out. That is just the way it is with ideas. Most seem brilliant from afar (because I thought of them). Up close, it is another story.

That is why it is important to continually harvest new ideas to try out. The more abundant your harvest, the less valuable any one idea is. The less wedded you are to any one idea, the more nimble you can be in your thinking.

My fellow writer then moaned, I wish I could develop a thick skin like you so I could be insulated from that sickly feeling I get.

I said, Whatever you do, do not grow a thick skin! A thick skin will keep you from listening. The only way we can improve as writers is to listen to what others say when they critique our writing.

For all the years I have been writing, I said, I have been praying that I would go into a critique session with first-pass copy and my client, editor, agent, ultimately the customer who was critiquing the writing, would say to me: Chuck, I have looked and looked and thought about this, and I think every word of this writing is perfect the way it is. I see no way this can be made better!

Sometimes that has happened, but usually after a few drafts. Once it happened on first-draft copy, but in that case, the meeting was called off because there was nothing to meet about.

So thought number one is this: These people doing the critiquing, they are here to help you. They are not your enemy; they are your friend. Sure, they may have an axe to grind, a grudge to play out. That is possible. For the most part, keep your ears and eyes open when they speak to you about your work. Show them respect. They are giving you exactly what you asked for. Smile. Be happy.

Second, and most importantly, develop a sense of conviction about your work, and a belief in the inevitability of your writing. What do I mean by that? Develop a belief in your ability as a writer such that deep down you know that you are on a journey that will take you places. You will be highly successful. Your success is inevitable. Your success could happen today, or it could happen next week. It almost doesn’t matter when it happens because your success is coming. It is on the way. It is only a matter of time, because you believe in your work just as you believe in yourself. So all you must do is take another stab at it and get it right in the next draft.

How does one develop this sense of conviction? I have only one piece of advice. It is the most important advice I can give to you or to any writer. If you want to become a better writer: fail more frequently.

Permit me a baseball analogy. Just one, I promise: In baseball, if you want to become a better batter, you must get up to bat more frequently. Sure, you have to get instruction at the same time. You have to get a new concept in your head of what you have not been doing and what you must start doing. But getting instruction and applying it are two different things. Applying the instruction is as important. If you want to improve your batting, chances are that you will strike out more often at first, as you try to change up your game. Eventually, if you hang in there, you will improve your batting average.

When trying new things out in your writing, you have at least two choices: 1) Play it safe and follow the rules with the belief that in doing so you will receive a minimum of criticism; 2) Try to hit it out of the park. Follow your heart, take chances, and try new and hairy-audacious ideas.

Go the way you feel more comfortable. I suggest: Get up at the plate and strike out more often even if that is what it takes to start hitting the ball out of the park.

Part of getting up at the plate more often is writing every day. The more writing problems you can work through and resolve efficiently, the more experience you have under your belt. And the more resilient you become.

Finally, realize it is not about you; it is about your work. It is about making your work better.

So here’s my recipe for becoming a better writer: Take chances. Follow your heart. Continually try new things. Ask people you respect to critique your work. Listen to what they say. Try out more ideas faster. Fail more often.

Realize that when those you asked to critique find ways your work could be improved, they are acting in a friendly way. They are most likely doing what you asked them to do.

There really is no reason to get down in the dumps about how critical some people can be.

Do not be afraid of failure. Cry if you must, but remember the critique process is not personal, whether you are in advertising or the literary biz.

Follow my advice. You will be better for it, and, more importantly, so will your writing.