(Turns out it’s spelled ‘wandelprobe’. And it’s a rehearsal with the cast, orchestra, and minor blocking. What I described is called a ‘sitzprobe’. Thank you, internet.)
I was searching for a Strategic Coach article yesterday, which brought up the quarterly book of the same name that I illustrated, which led to a listing on Goodreads (about our mass-market book, also of the same name — confusing), which led me to seeing reviews of my last book, Finitude.
God, people are mean. And of the handful of reviews there, two really, really didn’t like it and said why in detail. They had valid points, but it was totally a kick in the nuts. The only emotional athletic support cup was that I’m not trying to write novels anymore. But seeing as I still feel compelled to tell stories in various forms, it… gave me pause.
One really has to learn not to care, eh? The locus of our creativity is inside ourselves, and to a degree we should be the only audience we’re writing for.
But still. But still. The world, the marketplace, the potential to reach more people — it all means putting the work out there.
Happily, I’m in a fairly good place right now, so I’m feeling much more resilient and “Ehh, feck off, whatever” about it than I would have a short time ago.
As Mr Aristotle said…
Criticism is something we can avoid easily by saying nothing, doing nothing, and being nothing.