One of the first things I had to understand is that I can't make such things personal and take it as a sign that I'm not competent as either a journalist or as a writer.
So when I opened up my inbox this morning and saw a rather scathing indictment by a local politician over an article I wrote where he claims to be misquoted and then proceeded to take some personal shots at me, I'd like to tell you I just rolled with it and didn't let it bother me. After all, I have three solid pages of notes from the meeting I invested three hours of my last Monday in. I sat in the gallery, acutely paying attention to what was said and transcribing it as fast as I could onto my laptop, just like I do every time I walk in there.
I'd like to, but I'd be lying, because I've been sitting here for the last three hours debating with myself about just what the hell do I think I'm doing and who am I trying to kid when I say I'm good at this or anything else?
I don't take criticism well. I try to, but I don't. And whether you think it "constructive" or not, to me it all comes back as the same thing.
I suck at what I do. I have no skill at all, and there is no point for me continuing with this ridiculous farce I call my career.
It's why, even though I've wrote a complete novel six years ago, I never even dared to get it published. I asked friends and people I knew to be writers to read it. They said they would, and then they never did. To me, that comes back to the person who wrote it and the message, implied or otherwise, was it wasn't worth the time or effort.
Because if the book was good even by an elementary standard, then I'd have gotten feedback, corrections and ideas on how to make it better. Instead, I got nothing other than one person who said they stopped after five chapters and another who said they'd edit it, but then to my knowledge threw the manuscript away at the end of the year.
Not exactly rousing displays of support, wouldn't you say?
It's why I don't have many relationships and why I'm really not interested in one anytime soon. Everything I've been told, I take personally, even though I know I shouldn't. Having people I care about hone in on my deficiencies or the mistakes I make and emphasize them is nothing new to me, and I don't want them to lie and try to inflate my ego or just be "Yes" men telling me my shit doesn't stink.
But when you've been told for so long that you are nothing, that you will be nothing and that you always were nothing, I don't need people around me pointing out something I already have locked away in my head as a fundamental truth of my existence. My Yang takes care of that all by itself and does so with a level of efficiency that is unmatched.
My sophomore year, I had a college professor tell me to my face that I should probably consider doing something else with my life, other than being a writer.
"You haven't lived enough," he said.
Whether he meant it to motivate me or not, I really don't know. All I know is I walked out of that meeting about a half-breath away from doing precisely that. Quitting and walking away from something I've done my whole life and cannot really imagine not doing for the rest of it.
Had he told me something like, "Devin, I see something here, but you've hit a plateau you need to overcome and the only way you're going to do it is to get out there and experience a little more of the world," THAT would be constructive criticism to me.
The thing about criticism is we all think we're saying what a person needs to hear, and I am just as guilty of that as any of you. I guess what bothers me is that I'm tired of being told things that make me feel so damn small and insignificant that they make me seriously question just what the hell I am even still doing here.
I'm happy that my skin is able to stand up to the things it can. I just wish it had been made a whole lot thicker.
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