There are some fears among the writing community that are prevalent across all levels of experience. From the earliest of writers to people who’ve actually pulled the trigger and published something, you’ll find shared angst. First, of course, is the fear of rejection, a haunting little notion that someone not liking your work means they hate you. Second is that you may finish something and see nothing of value in what you sunk so much time into (effectively meaning you wasted your life). And third, of course, is the dreaded task of editing.

It’s not everyone and it’s not always expressed in the same way, but edits are generally painful. They’re basically sitting down and determining how you messed up, over and over, but then having to convince yourself that the same asshole that broke it can fix it. Somewhere, deep down, every writer fears the moment where they have to say to themselves “maybe this time I do it sober and/or well rested.” And the worst part is that any good editing process involves getting the opinion of another person – and that means opening yourself up to rejection at the same time.

Understand, if you have a hundred people reading your work and 80 of those people are positive, it’s easier to take the 20 in stride. But if you have only 2 and one of them has corrections to make – that’s gonna hurt. Sure, it’s only two people, but 50% of all people who read my work hate it. But the good news is that it’s natural, so there’s no real shame to the fact that people need to learn to cope with it. In fact, the mark of greatness is generally finding a way to deal with that feedback process in stride. Countless writers thank their editors as being the one who “does the real work”, and most of them are being genuine. Unfortunately, not all of us can be that level headed and that sting sticks some people into what I’d call the “feedback loop” – searching for positive feedback until they ruin the work.

But, you see, the feedback loop is stupid, because it requires you to forget that people are stupid. Continue reading Monday Musings: The Feedback Loop →

Sometimes, we all get caught up in a touch of nostalgia and go back to an old guilty pleasure that gives us a warm, fuzzy feeling. Maybe it’s a trashy romance novel, maybe a “so bad it’s good” movie, or maybe a show or game that really has very little substance at all. Recently, as I made jokes comparing myself to Kirby, I found myself in the same place and went wandering back to Dream Land to play as the pink puff ball. I picked up Kirby Squeak Squad and was instantly hit with just how shallow the plot was – and proceeded to not give a damn.

This isn’t too uncommon in games, especially in platformers where you really don’t have to give much of a shit at all. For the longest time no one had any idea what the plot was to Super Mario Bros. How could you? It only came with two lines of dialogue and a plot that required you read the manual. And, let’s be honest, no one ever read videogame manuals, that’s why they stopped getting included. As time’s gone on, those sorts of games have slowly been reeled back as more intricate games have stepped forward. Still, occasionally, you get the urge to play a game that doesn’t really seem to give a shit what the plot was in the first place – that’s why the most recent release of Doom was so well received.

But it doesn’t just hold true for games. Every form of entertainment has this pocket of “should be garbage, but isn’t” and it’s known by many names. Guilty pleasures and popcorn flicks are so common to people of all walks of life that they’re part of the everyday vernacular. And the thing is, in some cases they become so beloved that everyone agrees that their flaws are perfectly clear but don’t matter one damn bit. Hell, some productions even go out of their way to hit every single trope they can to try to become one of these on purpose.

So, question: what’s so different between these and something that everyone agrees is legitimate garbage?

Continue reading Monday Musings: The Line Between Shallow And Fun →