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"If you live for people's acceptance, you'll die by their rejection."
Ahem, excuse me while I go dig that arrow out of my chest. :)
That stings, doesn't it? We naturally desire acceptance. It's one of those built-in battles we all wrestle. And in case the vice isn't challenging enough on its own, the publishing industry steps it up ten notches by constantly measuring an author's value in neat, quantifiable metrics. Rankings, sales graphs, a convenient list of endless rejections from Bookbub, the number of hurtful reviews in the “place that must not be named” (*cough* Goodreads) ;) The list goes on and on.
Man, I know the pain of this struggle. When a careless comment in a review broke my spirit recently, my husband rested a tender hand on my arm, and in an equally gentle voice whispered, "You're remarkable to me."
I wanted so much to cling to his words and separate my identity from my work. But it’s hard, isn’t it? Our work is a part of us. And when we're thrust into a world where success hinges upon others' opinions, it's easy to end up staking our worth in those mass opinions and metrics (or lack thereof).
Before I dove into publishing, I remember reading an open letter to aspiring writers about things we should expect to encounter in the business. The author candidly warned that positive reviews will bolster our confidence but only for about a day. Negative reviews, on the other hand, will crush our spirits and be remembered forever. Ouch.
Lysa TerKeurst once shared about crying in a parking lot while scrolling through a website where readers debated her like she was a product on a shelf instead of a person with feelings. But while the criticism and rejection pierced deeply, she clung to the truth of her identity.
At a conference, she brought a stack of reviews to the platform and read them off, one by one. The first was a glowing remark about how amazing her work was and how profoundly it'd touched the reader's life. The next was a slam to Lysa's writing skills and a harsh critique of her theology. Back and forth, on and on it went. After several, she held them up and asked the audience, "Which one do I listen to?" The answer? Neither.
Man, I know the pain of this struggle. When a careless comment in a review broke my spirit recently, my husband rested a tender hand on my arm, and in an equally gentle voice whispered, "You're remarkable to me."
I wanted so much to cling to his words and separate my identity from my work. But it’s hard, isn’t it? Our work is a part of us. And when we're thrust into a world where success hinges upon others' opinions, it's easy to end up staking our worth in those mass opinions and metrics (or lack thereof).
Which One Do I Listen to?
Before I dove into publishing, I remember reading an open letter to aspiring writers about things we should expect to encounter in the business. The author candidly warned that positive reviews will bolster our confidence but only for about a day. Negative reviews, on the other hand, will crush our spirits and be remembered forever. Ouch.
Lysa TerKeurst once shared about crying in a parking lot while scrolling through a website where readers debated her like she was a product on a shelf instead of a person with feelings. But while the criticism and rejection pierced deeply, she clung to the truth of her identity.
At a conference, she brought a stack of reviews to the platform and read them off, one by one. The first was a glowing remark about how amazing her work was and how profoundly it'd touched the reader's life. The next was a slam to Lysa's writing skills and a harsh critique of her theology. Back and forth, on and on it went. After several, she held them up and asked the audience, "Which one do I listen to?" The answer? Neither.
Ooh, that’s hard. But here’s the thing. Despite how much value the system places on reviews and outward accolades, the bottom line is this. There's only one review worth listening to. Ready for it?
You are fearfully and wonderfully made. By design. On purpose. With gifts to share and a voice that matters. Your value does not increase or diminish based on reviews or publishing metrics. You are loved unconditionally and irrevocably by a Father who puts His arm around you when no one else does and whispers, "You're remarkable to me."
When we ground our identity in that truth, the winds of rejection don’t relent. Doubts still thunder. Comparisons still taunt. But through it all, we continue to stand, anchored. Not in a quest of seeking affirmation, but in a journey of learning to abide in our calling.
Connect with Crystal:
Facebook: http://facebook.com/crystalwaltonwrites
Free Book: http://crystal-walton.com/new-release-mailing-list/
6 comments:
Thanks for hosting me, Laurie! :)
Thankful for a sneak peek of BEGIN AGAIN! It's fantastic! Already a fan :) Thanks so much for coming on the Alley and sharing this important message with our readers!
This is such a great post! Thanks for visiting today, Crystal! The biggest thing I am fearful of as a debut author, are the reviews! I will be reading this over and over in the next year!
Such a great post!!! Thank you!!! Reviews are tough. I really try to remember that not everyone is my audience. Not everyone will like my books. And ya know? I'm not perfect. Maybe they are right. Maybe the ending WAS flat. But my identity isn't found in my books, but in Jesus. he is the only one who can claim perfection!!
Thanks for having me, ladies. This is one of those reminders I have to revisit OFTEN. ;) I'm making it a goal this year not to read reviews. We'll see if I can make it. lol
I really needed this post today. I'm just starting my journey as a writer, or at least as a writer trying to have my work published. It's so easy to let the self-doubt become overwhelming, even with constructive criticism. Thank you for encouraging me to keep my focus where it should be.
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