I’m making a departure from my usual posts this month, starting with “I Got Knocked Down. Can I Get Up Again?” and continuing with today’s entry. Usually, I start a post with an idea I want to communicate to others: the answer to a question about writing, reading, productivity or perspective. Then I find some concrete examples to prove my answer, and voila! A blog post. But that’s not how my most recent posts have been formulating. Instead of the answer, I start with a question… and end with more questions. Words From The Sowul is starting to reflect the mindset of its author.
The question I’ve been struggling with for the past few days regards a personality trait that I’ve had since birth, one I know many other writers possess as well: perfectionism. That’s a great quality to have if you’re working in physics or engineering, where there’s often only one right answer. But in a creative field, that perfectionism just gets in the way. There’s no such thing as the “perfect” manuscript. There’s also no such thing as the perfect painting, dance routine, or lesson plan.
Even if you strive for excellence with every fiber of your being, there’s always going to be something that you can’t communicate perfectly. Someone will love it, someone will hate it, and someone will interpret it differently. The perspectives of other humans prohibits perfectionism on the part of the creative artist.
So then, what does the creative perfectionist do?
She does her best. She waits until she gets a feeling of satisfaction, and releases her work into the world.
Then she beats herself up, over and over, for not getting it “right,” even though she knows that “right” is a meaningless, abstract term entirely based on the reader, not on herself. When she gets rejected, she feels ashamed in her heart even though her head tells her it isn’t personal. Every time she rallies the courage to try again, she goes through the same cycle. And every time, she loses a little more of that courage.
That’s how I’ve been operating. But it’s not how I want to continue operating for the rest of my writing life. Heck, if I kept that up, I might not have a writing life.
I want to be able to write a draft, let it rest, and then go back as an objective editor to figure out how to make it better. I want to be able to repeat that cycle until I feel in my gut that it’s ready for release. I want to send it bravely on its way to publishers, agents and friends. And then I want to be able to let it go, tell myself “it’s finished,” and move onto the next project.
I know my product will never be perfect. I know my craft will only get better, but never reach perfection. In the words of a great writer:
“We are all apprentices in a craft where no one ever becomes a master.” -Ernest Hemingway
Tweet ThisBut there is one place I think it’s okay to strive for perfection, even if I know I won’t achieve it. Not product, not craft, but process. I can try to create the writing process that works best for me. I can study productivity and the art of practicing. I can set up strong habits that won’t desert me when I’m feeling defeated. I can take notes on myself, be my own supervisor, and encourage myself to take risks, be brave, and stretch a little more. Focusing on the process instead of the product will give my perfectionism an outlet.
I’ve had perfectionism since birth, I’ll have it until death: it’s not going away, so I need to accept it and give it a mission.
I need to give perfectionism something to feast on, so it doesn’t feast on the most delicate parts of me.
Perfectionism isn’t something I’m going to solve with one question, one blog post, one morning’s thought. But I feel like I just got a little closer. And that’s the goal, isn’t it? Just to get closer. Closer to better. Closer to the endpoint, the fruition of hopes and dreams. Closer to each other, and to ourselves.
Not perfect.
But close.
Love this post–I’m about to repost one similar, in fact. I really identify with the “beating herself up” part. Nice to know I’m not the only one. Though I’m sorry to hear you suffer from this, too!
I can’t wait to read yours, Kathy! I think a lot of writers are perfectionists… I think in some sense, we have to be, even though it’s counterproductive to creativity. Perfectionism comes with tenacity and stubborn determination, and we need both to be successful in such a difficult field.
I think this is your best blog post ever. I especially loved your feasting quotation, something to consider in my own struggle with perfectionism. Great job, Leanne!
Thank you, and welcome to the comment section 🙂 It’s the PERFECT place to be!
Amen. I’ve struggled with perfectionism too, so I can relate to this post a lot. In fact, perfectionism probably explains why I’m a “slow writer.” I often obsess over wording until it feels or sounds 100% right. It’s something I don’t notice so much with blog-writing, but novel-writing? Oh yah. So I need to learn to let go of that as well.
I wish I could embrace writing slowly, but I just keep pushing myself faster and faster. If I get 700 words one day, I want to get 800 the next. I’ve found the trick is to set myself a super-low limit that’s easy to breach, and then just give myself the time to exceed it. So I tell myself I have to do 500 words, and then finish the pomodoro or whatever time I set for myself. I was surprised to find that usually yields bigger numbers, and I wasn’t obsessing over them. I feel like every one of my perfectionist tendencies needs a work-around for writing!