You can't get it wrong
Art is meant to be diverse
“The worst enemy to creativity is self-doubt.”
No doubt Sylvia Plath spoke from experience when she voiced this thought, now one of the most circulated quotes on social media. It’s almost inconceivable to me that an artist of her caliber would ever grapple with anything such as self-doubt. But this is the kind of thought that can only come from a place of utmost sincerity, from someone who’s known what it’s like to hack away at a notebook, typewriter, or laptop, and come up convinced that all they can ever produce is crap.
I’m personally a big fan of Plath’s work. There’s something in her poetry that I connect with on a personal level. I love its darkness, it’s gloominess, its despondency, its ruthlessness in stripping away the hypocrisy of all the filters we apply to everyday life (we both have Mercury in Scorpio, so that tracks). She’s venerated as a genius by many, myself included. And yet, there are so many who’ll read her work and either not get it, or simply say it’s whiny poetry by a woman scorned.
I don’t doubt that Plath met with that narrative back in her day as well. She lived at a time when women were still expected to stay home and sit pretty, birth children, and keep the home. To cook dinner and lie with their husbands at night. Women were supposed to be seen not heard. They were tools nothing more. I can’t even imagine the fight Plath must’ve fought to be heard. To be accepted in a world where, once again, white men dominated.
But for what it’s worth, if there was self-doubt in her, Plath pushed through and came out on the other side a successful and timeless, world-wide recognized poet.
Self-doubt is something that I come across often while I’m editing. Clients fret (understandably so) about their work not being “good enough.” It’s something that for a long time also had its chokehold on me when I was a young writer, hiding everything I ever worked on from the world, calling my writing “weak,” and “not good,” comparing myself to writers such as Jane Austen and the Brontës, convinced that my writing didn’t need to see the light of day unless it looked and sounded exactly like that of these writers whom I revered.
Self-doubt kept its foot on me, pinning me down for a long time. Eventually, one day, an acquaintance on social media opened up submissions to a magazine they were starting. Whatever possessed me that day, I submitted something. The person loved it so much that they decided to focus the whole magazine theme around the piece I had written.
I think I cried that day, I can’t remember. But I knew that a tiny pin of light had been poked through the dark veil of my self-doubt. My perspective began to shift. Maybe, just maybe, I could just be me? Maybe I could write whatever inspired me and someone, somewhere might like it?
This perspective has developed more and more as I’ve grown. I’ve read widely across many genres—my curiosity for writing pushed me to want to know what was in every different genre, what made certain authors popular, what techniques were they using in their particular areas, what sort of themes resonated. I wanted to broaden my understanding of what made good writing good and bad writing bad. Eventually, I came to one conclusion: There’s no such thing as bad writing.
Or at least, there’s no such thing as one genre being better than another. There is no such thing as a style or voice being better than others. There’s no such thing as a plot that’s more interesting than another. There’s simply objectiveness, perspective, and taste.
However, there is one thing that I do believe can be detrimental to a writer and their goals, and it isn’t “bad writing;” it’s lack of effort. If you write a story and don’t believe in having it edited at any stage in any way or form, if you don’t put in the work to polish your ideas, to refine the language of your story, you walk a risky rope.
In the same vein as building a house, you’d never just put up four planks of wood with a little bit of wood glue and some nails and call it done. There are infinite steps to take to build a house that’ll become a safe place for anyone to live. If you don’t fuss about the details, you may miss something that could be important, and the whole structure will come toppling down on your head.
But as for “bad writing,” it doesn’t exist. Art made with intention will always find its way to the people who need it most, to those who are actively seeking it, and to those who aren’t. Self-doubt is no more than the ego trying to protect us from those who are eager to dole out rejection, to put themselves above us as masters and authorities on what deserves to see the light of day and what doesn’t.
So the next time self-doubt pushes in through the doors and tries to make itself comfortable on your couch, think of this: You can’t get it wrong. As long as you’re putting in the effort to make your particular form of art as polished as you can, your art will find its audience.
Think of it like butterflies. Do we need one hundred and sixty thousand species? Probably not. Who knows. Who’s to say? And every single one is as different and distinct as the next. No one’s out there arguing about which butterflies should exist and which shouldn’t. Maybe they are, but it sounds to me like a waste of energy. I say pick your favorite ones and decorate your life in honor of them. Let yourself be filled, fulfilled, and inspired by them. Appreciate the diversity that the universe has offered to us. How lucky are we to have so much color and grace to choose from?
Novel writing update
I am chipping away at the dreaded middle of my novel, and I’m full of hope. This is usually the part where I give up. I had some trouble at first marrying the tone of the first act to the second because they’re almost two different stories. My characters have literally been thrown out of the only world and the life they’ve ever known. I’m somehow getting it done. It feels cohesive. It’s taking shape. I’m getting through it. Holy sh*t, this might actually happen.
Music rec of the week
If you’ve stuck around with this newsletter long enough, you will have heard me go on about how important music is to my creative process. It’s literally the fuel that helps me generate ideas. Once again, music has helped oil the creative wheels inside my head. See here the song that set off the unfurling of the second act of my novel.
My sister, who is a huge Oscar Isaac fan, (Oscar Isaac also being my face claim for a pivotal character in my WIP) sent me this song a few weeks back. The moment I heard it, it immediately fell into step with my story. I’ve spent the last couple of weeks researching more music with the same vibe, and it’s gotten the second act of my novel cooking with gas, as we say in the Caribbean.
Something else that’s absolutely amazing is that Gaby Moreno won the Grammy for Best Latin Pop Album during the award ceremony that just aired this past weekend, and I could not have been prouder. Her album X Mi is amazing. Her vocals are hypnotizing, and her music has a mellow, soulful, folksy sound that feels very earthy but ethereal at the same time. If you’re in the mood for something gentle and foreign, check her out.
Hi there, I’m Maria! I’m a freelance fiction editor assisting women writers in amplifying their voices through their writing. You can find me on Instagram @theintuitivedesk. Or visit my site
www. theintuitivedesk.com to find out more.