The Multifaceted Writer: Too Writerly for Words?

During grad school, a professor once accused me of lacking “scholarly and critical depth” when participating in classroom discussions. While he later apologized after learning of my complete unfamiliarity with the material for this course (that had no prerequisites, mind you), his comments continue to haunt me when approaching the subject of my own writing and my critical abilities as a writer.

Being able to receive and make use of constructive criticism is one of the first pieces of advice generally given to writers who are just starting out in the business. Yet, in my experience, one never seems to receive very enlightening feedback in this respect other than endless elaborations of the “Writing/life is hard” or “Practice, practice, practice” mantras.

“A thick skin,” one writer friend told me, “comes not with the first spate of rejection letters, but rather with acceptance of the first revisions that you get.” To me, this seems tautological. After all, who wants to grade one’s own writing? I find it hard enough to judge other people’s work, which is something I’m required to do as a part of the editorial work I frequently do.

As a writer who owns a content-focused consultancy but continues to do her own freelance and academic work, I face two problems in relation to writing and criticism. First, there is the feedback cycle of writing and editing, in which work is written, criticized, revised, and finalized or rejected. Second, there is the eternal ethical dilemma over how one gauges quality writing, i.e. whether or not a written work is up to expected standards.

Like many writers who also function as editors, I constantly battle not only my own inner demons about writing, but also other people’s demons, too. I get criticism not only about my own work, but also that of other people as I give and receive feedback on various editorial projects. Having a chorus of critical voices in your head, of course, can be hugely distracting. It can cause you to lose focus not only on what you’re writing but also why you’re writing.

Then there is the issue of quality. How do you judge if what you’re writing or what you’re reading is good or meets expectations? I do a lot of educational writing related to curriculum and testing for which there are established standards. However, when I write or edit an article for a particular publication, I benchmark the quality of writing based on my understanding of the publication or intended audience in question. But, though I do my best to judge from my knowledge base and experience, I sometimes wonder about my own abilities as an educated authority, since, well, writing is a subjective art.

I thought for a while that starting my own business would help me become less attached to my own writing. Yet, it’s had the opposite effect. Since my paycheck now depends on what I write, I’m suddenly acutely conscious of the quality and focus of my writing. This applies equally to my freelance writing as well as the academic book I’m finishing, which, though not a major source of revenue, nonetheless is a product that represents, markets, and sells my abilities as a writer.

After surveying more experienced writers, there seems to be one simple solution for silencing inner demons and constructively handling criticism: writing. While hardly an original point, I keep coming back to the notion that if you’re doing what you love, the rest is worth it.

Even if it involves occasional fits of anxiety or panic about the fact that you, as a writer, are putting yourself out in front of the world, the power and joy of writing comes in the realization that people are reading and thus learning from the information that you communicate through your writing.

So, the next time those ghastly doubts come into your head about your writerly capabilities, remember that, despite what advice you may receive, it’s okay to be a little anxious. It means you’re a true writer.

Jessica Quillin owns Quillin Consulting, LLC, a consultancy in Washington, DC, focused on content development, research, and strategy for the public and private sectors. She holds a Ph.D. in English literature from the University of Cambridge.