Blogger: Rachelle Gardner
One of the most common pieces of advice given to new writers is: Develop a thick skin.
You’d think this would be even more of a requirement for an agent. It’s good advice for anyone who’s visible on the Internet, frequently giving their opinion on things. So you probably think I’d be a person with a thick skin.
However, I don’t have a thick skin. I have a fragile heart, I take things personally, and I don’t bounce back right away when I receive criticism.
I truly appreciate helpful critiques of my work and advice on how to improve any area of my life. I crave it. I value the input of others. Yet at the same time, if it’s not always positive, I have a hard time getting over the hurt feelings (or the knee-jerk angry reaction) and moving on to actually learning from the criticism.
I know people are telling you “develop a thick skin,” and I know some of you are thinking, “I don’t know how to do that.” And I’m here to tell you: Some of you will never develop a thick skin.
But the important thing is: You’ll survive.
You survive by first, allowing yourself to experience the pain. You find ways to express it in a healthy way, perhaps by taking a day to cry, or talking it over with your best friend, or calling your mom because she’s the one person who always supports you no matter what.
Then, you turn it around. You ask yourself if the criticism came from someone to whom you should listen. If the answer is yes, then you begin looking for ways to learn from what they said.
You ask yourself whether you disagree or agree with what they said. (You give yourself permission to disagree with at least part of it.) Then you take what you can learn from, and discard the rest. Move on to the next thing.
Easier said than done, of course. And I admit, it sometimes takes me awhile to work through this process!
So what about you? Are you thick skinned? If not, how do you handle criticism? Are you able to learn from it anyway?
I thought I was thick-skinned till I tried to break into the novel-writing field! But seriously, each rejection either pushes you forward or makes you stop.
I generally survive by expecting the worst (warped, I know). That way, if something good happens, I’m pleasantly surprised.
The hardest thing is when you’ve been praying specifically about one agent or publisher and that one says no. THAT’S when the walls crumble a little and you get a little more snippish with your kiddos! I just need space to process these hurts, but in the meantime, I just keep plowing ahead. It’s the only thing I know how to do.
In some ways I have thick skin, but in other areas of my life it’s still a struggle. In my writing, I’m at the stage where I know I have lots to learn. Being in a critique group with people who have different perspectives and ways of writing helps me improve. They’re suggestions are usually spot on.
Where I do not have thick skin is in certain areas of my life that touch on the deep hurts. When I receive a criticism that hits that wound, I have a good cry, and then I must remind myself of the truth so I can learn from and move beyond it.
My skin is thicker than it used to be, but it’s certainly not rhino-tough. LOVE your suggestions. Thank you.
Having a thick skin doesn’t come naturally to me. I’ve learned to give myself a certain amount of time to feel the hurt (depending on how deep the wound). Then I force myself to put that aside and get back to work.
Imagine the marketing possibilities of skin-thickening cream for writers? Oooo…and I have a name, Writers Block! Does anyone know a chemist? 🙂
Brilliant.
Funny.
I am not at all! But I think it is something you develop over time…throughout college I was in several critique groups for my writing classes and it definitely helped develop a thicker skin. Practice makes perfect and changes your perspective.
Nope, no thick skin here. However, I let myself read a rejection or criticism and put it away for 48 hours. I give myself permission to eat ice cream.
Then, after the initial sting is gone, I start thinking about what the person said and whether I agree with it, just like you described, Rachelle. I think about how to implement it. And usually, my writing is a lot better for it.
I am better for it too.
I love this so much thank you. I was just mentioning to someone that I don’t think I ever have cried into my pillow so many times in my life. I do not have a thick skin. Thank you for permission to embrace that.
But, I do survive, each and every time. God pulls me up stronger out the hurt, and my work is refined. That is a gift that I am so thankful for. That is a gift I accept with grace.
You might think that because I’m a middle-aged man, I’d be thicker-skinned than I am. But I’m really not. I’m learning to have a tougher hide, and I think I’ve come a long way.
When I first submitted my story to an agency, my rejection letter left me unsure how to feel or react. I felt stunned that they had passed up such a great story! But now, I’m SO glad that they did!
My story is longer, better, and I think it has much more interest and better chances of getting published. It’s an emotional kick in the backside to be rejected or criticized, but in the long run, it CAN make us stronger.
No, I don’t have a thick skin but I do tend to rally. Funny as it sounds one of the best sayings I’ve heard was on Dancing with the Stars. I was the season Brandy was on and Maks was criticizing her for getting emotional during practice and saying she was too sensitive, brandy looked at him and said “sensitive, not weak”. I loved that and thought it described me.
I understand how you feel, Rachelle!
It is easy to react defensively in those moments of criticism. I have to take a step back, get some air and evaluate why I’m even upset. Am I upset because this person is hating on my work of art or because what they are saying is true about it? 🙂
It’s tough. There’s no perfect balance, but we need to grow as humans, as writers, and how will we ever advance if we do not know our weaknesses. Thanks for being real with us…as usual. 🙂
This one’s going in my keeper file. Thank you, Rachelle, for speaking my heart.
I’m closing in on my fiftieth book, and I still needed to hear this!
I’ve gotten good at faking a thick skin!! 🙂 I listen well in critique sessions, and then when I go home, I usually feel bummed till the next day, when I dive back in and make changes.
One thing that I have learned is to disregard the advice that is not helpful to me. In my undergrad years, I treated all criticism the same. No longer!
I’ve decided that I don’t want thick skin, per se, but I do want resilient skin. I want to take in what I’ve heard, process it, hold on to the things that I need to, and bounce off the rest of it. And I said that the way I mean it. I want to keep moving, so I’m the rubber ball. I’m the one who bounces off the negative or painful stuff, not the other way around.
Blessings,
Becky
I like that- Resilient skin. 🙂
LOVE this, Becky!
Good, good advice. And ahem, (apologies for self-promoting statement here), the subject of my manuscript! 🙂
Bravo Rachelle!
Maybe what the world really needs are less people with thick skins and instead, more with sensitive hearts. In which case I’m more than happy to spend time with a room full of writers–and in this instance, one very special agent. Courage, resilience, surviving–with a smile, occasionally amidst the tears–all part of being authentic and fully human and created no less, in the image and likeness of God.
I’m not thick-skinned, but extremely sensitive. It’s a weakness and a strength, depending. Your advice is great. That is what I need to do…joining a critique group has helped a lot 🙂
I just wrote my first book and it’s a memoir of my life with polio and it took a lot of courage for me to get my thoughts on paper. Your post is very helpful and inspiring, thanks for posting it 🙂
Going through the revision process of my first novels has really toughened me up, at least in regards to constructive criticism. So has getting the first rejection letters. I’m sure outright criticism will still crumble me into a little ball, but someone trying to be helpful no longer bothers me like it used to. That kind of thicker skin has been immensely helpful.
With my writing group of 10 years, I can usually take the thoughtful criticism in the spirit that it is given: as one person’s considered comments on my piece. There is no pressure to use the feedback, but I do reflect and find the common threads. If an agent gives me feedback, I am overjoyed, because most of the time, they simply do no respond. I have found the agents’ comments integral to the way I view my ms and they have helped me create a better ms.
When I was young, I had thick skin for criticism.
Of course, I also had no emotions, and didn’t known how to laugh.
Now, I take everything personally. I would never say something to someone else I wouldn’t expect them to say to me if I deserved it.
Often – when I see people talk about people with thick skins for criticism – I really look at the person, and their comments. I have yet to meet a person who is lifted up as an example of a person with a thick skin that I would want as a role model.
I do my best to respect others and offer helpful advice, with as little as I know, and avoid condescension from myself, and others.
A thin skin to criticism – means you are alive. It means you are listening and value others opinions. Rather than just ignoring them, you determine their worth and value to you.
After writing for a bazillion years for newspapers, magazines, nonprofits, corporate — and now pitching my novels — ya’d think I’d be rawhide by now.
Truth is, we’re human and criticism and reject hurt. I’ve learned over the years, however, to “be” with whatever I’m feeling, then, as you said, Rachelle, to learn and grow.
Allowing life and all its sorrows, joys, struggles, hopes, dreams and more permeate me and translating that into words — that’s WHY I write. That takes softness. An open heart.
So, while a ‘tough skin’ serves a purpose, for me, being vulnerable is a blessing.
http://birthofanovel.wordpress.com/2012/10/17/the-gift/#comments
I think I have a pretty thick skin. It helps that my critique partners are fantastic. They give brutally honest opinions but mix them with complements and jokes.
As for receiving rejection letters? They hurt at first, but I always learn from them. The last rejection letter I got contained several suggestions for improving my story, which I know was a major complement, so I took it as a good sign.
Thanks for a great post. As usual.
My skin is situationally thick and thin. It depends on a few factors.
If it’s in an area in which I feel truly confident, then I look for a possible truth and apply it accordingly while singing songs with bluebirds in a meadow of heather.
If I receive it in an area in which I have no confidence, I listen and apply it, sometimes to the extreme. “Oh, so you put in two round cups of sugar?” It may take me hours, but I’ll make a perfect sphere of sucrose if it kills me.
Then there is the dangerous area. This is where I feel somewhat confident, but I need affirmation. Hit me there and I feel like a chipmunk that had its acorns stolen. Herein is my Achilles’ heel. My attempts at writing fall into this category. I’m a good story teller, but a so-so writer. My dialog rocks, but my prose drool. Criticism is how I learned my weaknesses. When it is specific, it helps me grow. When it’s vague, I feel lost.
In order to get beyond the criticism, I’ve had to embrace it, learn from it and grow from it. It’s like the mountain- I’ll climb over, tunnel through or make it a gold mine with God’s help.
I’m with you PJ! I have situational skin as well.
Thick skin isn’t all it’s cracked up to be! If you become too tough you lose the ability to write with compassion. If you can’t break now and then how will you write about broken people? If you don’t have something to heal from how can you convey healing in your manuscript? You hit the nail on the head with your post. It’s not about never feeling bad. It’s about learning to use it for good.
Thanks, Cheryl. You summed up what I was fumbling around with in my mind. It’s our sensitivities, our “thin skin” that allows us to feel and experience and run through the gauntlet of emotion. Maybe we need to take that journey (repeatedly?!?!) to write well?
In that case, if we allow our natural reaction to take shape, every skin abrasion makes us stronger writers.
I agree, Cheryl. I’ve held a few positions where I had to develop a thick skin to survive, but I didn’t like what it did to me. I became more hardened and less able to feel compassion for what others were going through. I thought they should just be strong like me. Now, I prefer to remain soft and work through hurts, rather than deny them and bounce them off. This feels more genuine to me and helps me immensely as I offer spiritual direction to others.
It’s a puzzlement. On the one hand, sensitivity is an advantage for fiction writers when we experience a full range of emotions and then can convey those powerful feelings to the reader. On the other hand, we need to develop a thick skin when it comes to criticism and rejection of our work. Maybe we need an on/off switch (or a thick/thin switch) depending on what the situation requires.
I’m like Mordecai Richler. When asked how he reacted to criticism, he said “I much prefer praise.”
I don’t think many writers have thick skin. We just keep writing, regardless of the reaction.
That’s a great quote. And as an aside, although I haven’t yet read his work, I love the name “Mordecai Richler.” It’s fun to say! Kind of rolls off the tongue.
I do have a thick skin however it is difficult to maintain on a constant basis therefore I agree with you that I also have a fragile heart.
I do not have thick skin. Not knowing how I will react to extreme criticism scares me to death. Rachelle, your words are encouraging and I appreciate your perspective on the issue. Thanks for sharing.
I struggle with this in my critique group. I’m
always glad to find ways to improve my writing,
but if the criticism isn’t given in a kind way,
I feel attacked.
It’s also a problem that we’re all amateurs, and we don’t know everything about writing. Sometimes the advice I’m given is just plain wrong. And it feels wrong often, since we all have different tastes in writing. It’s the only writing group in our small town, so we’re a mixed bag.
It’s a good thing I have low blood pressure, since I have to take everything they say with
a grain of salt.
I liked the mention of “you’ll survive.” I find when I take especially bad hurtful feedback, the kind where I feel personally attacked, I usually withdraw within my shell (just like a turtle that is vulnerable when exposed but safe inside its shell). So, when the people who said nasty stuff have gone by their day to day, I go back to present something, preferably to someone who isn’t ready to lash out.
I think that many people who say hurtful things are also probably hurt themselves. This belief comes from having been in some writing groups where egos were high but none, as far as I could tell, were published best-selling authors that were authorities on a given literary category, much less all types of literature. So I think that in some groups people probably vent off frustration on other people.
I must also say that it’s more hurtful getting a rejection slip especially when dreaming big. My thoughts are that writing without concern for being the next big thing makes the pain less painful and makes it easier to see what works and what doesn’t.
Just my two cents, though, and I’m not expecting everyone to agree with me one hundred percent.
I think I’m going against the norm here when I say I have fairly thick skin. In fact, I prefer honest negative criticism to “It’s nice.” I want to grow and improve as a writer, and the only way to do that is to know what I’m doing wrong. And just because what I write is “wrong” for one publication doesn’t meant it’s not perfect for another.
That being said, *how* something is said is so much more important sometimes than *what* is said. When I critique someone else, I believe in using the “sandwich method”. Start with something positive (the bread) insert something that needs improvement (the filling) and finish with something positive.
I’m not thick skinned (and would’ve never guessed you aren’t either).
Last weekend I addressed this topic in a presentation I made to new writers at a writers conference. I shared with them some suggestions:
1) Dismiss all personal attacks. If someone attacks us personally it’s either because our writing hit a deep emotional nerve with them and they didn’t know how to deal with it or they have their own issues, which don’t need to become our issues.
2) Consider the source. If someone we don’t respect or doesn’t seem credible criticizes our writing, we shouldn’t give it much thought.
3) When I’m struggling with someone’s feedback, I often ask God what he thinks. His perspective is usually gentler than mine and when there’s a rebuke to be made it’s easier to receive from him.
Of course, had your post been prior to my presentation, I would have had much more to share! Thanks for a great post.
I wish I had thick skin. Instead I have onion skin: translucent and brittle. And like those who peel back the fragile outer layers of an onion and chop into it, I cry at times when dealing with disappointments and setbacks. Although they might slice and dice my confidence, I press on, knowing that feelings pass and things will look brighter once some time has passed and I’ve regained my equilibrium and objectivity.
Excellent post! I try my best to be thick-skinned and try to learn from situations. But I also have to keep reminding myself sometimes people react to their own emotions rather than actual events.
GREAT to know that you too can take things to heart. I think being passionate about certain things in life and having a caring heart really has a lot to do with how we react. Or at least, a lot how we feel 🙂
Last Sunday I spoke with a lady in church who told me she couldn’t handle criticism of any form. I told her that was because she never had children. As if on cue, my eighteen-year-old came up to let me know everything I’d done wrong that day. The lady was shocked when I started laughing.
I think PJ is right that the thickness of our skin is situational. When my children criticize, I know it’s because they’re still learning about the world and see things in black and white. When my critique group criticizes, I know it’s because they truly want my writing to be better. When a stranger on the street criticizes, I just assume that person is drunk and doesn’t know better. 😉
I’m mentally preparing myself for the day when my book is published and I get negative reviews. I hope I can be like one author friend who said she saves all those and rereads them frequently, because they all teach her something she can do better.
I do not have a thick skin at all. I’m sensitive to everything in my environment, and I have trouble not getting upset when someone takes something I’ve carefully written to say exactly what I mean, and extrapolates from it and twists it around in their minds so that they can fire back a defensive reply.
So it’s really hard for me to write on “hot-button” topics, and sometimes I dread being truly honest.
I’ve wondered what I’m doing trying to be a writer when I so obviously lack the chief qualities needed to be successful, like being thick-skinned and able to keep producing and submitting in spite of rejections. I’m not producing very quickly, either.
But, I can take constructive criticism. I really love getting another perspective on my work – probably because I can be even more certain I’m saying no more or less than what I intend. I love getting the chance to dig in and add depth to a story.
Then again, rejections are hard. I feel as though “exactly what I mean” is unacceptable. Though I get such nice rejections lately, with invitations to submit again in the future.
Right now I’m taking a bit of a break from submitting since I got another nice rejection from a top-tier, first-choice market. I’m wondering if I should exhaust all the top-tier markets before dropping a tier, or if I should just send it to a semi-pro market and maybe get accepted sooner?
And then of course there’s the question of writing new material and the pressure to make it better than my previous best work in order to finally get an acceptance.
Well, one thing that’s bound to happen is rejection and/or negative feedback. Doesn’t matter if you’re an aspiring writer or a published author. Some people will like what we write while others won’t so all of us will have to come to terms with that harsh reality.
Another way to put it is that many people we don’t know won’t stop to think, “I better be nice since this person is sensitive.” Plenty of people are insensitive and don’t think twice about being nasty with their comments. Even best selling authors have book pages on Amazon littered with one star reviews and rants.
I like Ann Bracken’s comment on the author who rereads negative reviews in hopes of improving her writing. I do think that using negative feedback in a constructive way is helpful. But then again, I wouldn’t try to please everyone. It’s probably not possible.
My skin has gotten a little thicker over the years as I’ve received some pretty harsh critiques of my work. It’s hard to remember that it’s nothing personal against you as a person, because our stories–at least mine–are like our children.
What helps me after receiving a really harsh critique/comment is to play “So What” by P!nk really loud. I sing along at the top of my lungs, and then move on to “Have a Nice Day” by Bon Jovi.
That’s day one. It makes me feel better.
After awhile, however, it’s time for me to think over the advice that was given me.
It’s hard for people like me–perfectionistic people-pleasers–to realize that not everyone is right 100% of the time. So what if they go for the jugular? I just tell them (in my mind) “Have a nice day.”
I made the mistake of showing some of my work to a so-called friend. I was not critiqued but attacked. There was nothing constructive to it. I had to look at it with a critical eye. I believe there was some sort of jealousy involved, which is sad. I am glad I am strong in my self-confidence. When you show your work to anyone, try to give it to someone who will give you suggestions and not try to tear you down. I did learn a valuable lesson. This was not a friend.
Linda Cacaci
LinCaca3@aol.com
I’m sorry that happened, Linda. Been there! It’s hard because friends and family know that I’m writing and are always asking, “When can I read it?” I try for a version of “When it’s published” that’s warm and respectful. And that answer tends to lead to, “When will it be published?” Well, I don’t know…I don’t actually have a publisher yet…” “Well, why not?” Awkward. I’m tempted to stop talking about my writing altogether around certain people, but that’s not satisfactory either. “What’d you do all weekend?” “Oh…nothing” instead of “Churned out 10,000 words. What did YOU do?” LOL.
I know I’m late on this one, but boy was it a good post. I soooooo needed this.
I don’t have a thick skin, I do take things personally, and it takes me time to bounce back.
I’m thankful you told us how you are on this issue, because I just figured all agents were thick skinned people. Goes to show what I didn’t know.
Thank you again Rachelle, you are very helpful and a blessing to me.