Ego

The other day, I met two wonderful friends of mine at The Vierling, a classic restaurant and microbrewery that opened its doors in the 1880s. My friend Nathan Lyle began the conversation by asking how writing was going.

“Good, um, I guess. No, yes. Really good.” I answered, my confidence withering with each additional word. “I’m at the peer review stage, I’m giving copies to friends to read, but I’m getting nervous.” I proceeded to explain how a few hours earlier I had called Kathryn and started asking whether I should remove a scene from my book. She didn’t believe I needed to, and advised that I work on something else while my beta-readers did their thing.

Later I explained to Nathan that I was feeling like I wanted to start hacking the thing to pieces. Yes, Nathan agreed, I should take some time away from the novel before there wasn’t anything left. The conversation moved on, and Nathan suggested that I get my hands on a bigger ego. Whether he was joking and being totally honest, I’m unsure, but in time I’ve deduced that it was both.

Ego is an interesting concept and can be a mixed bag when it comes to writing. Hold onto it too tightly, something I haven’t even been able to do, and you’ll be blinded by your own perceived greatness. Live without ego, and lack the confidence needed to make things happen. I believe this is where I lie. So far, I’ve managed to at least get the ball rolling. I’ve written a book. It may be shit, but hey, I did something. When I began this journey, I couldn’t see past finishing the first draft, and that was probably for the better. My atrophied ego may have gotten the best of me had I focused solely on the difficulty of succeeding and the massive amount of commitment it takes to turn that first draft into something readable.

I’m at an advantage as I wait to hear back from my peer reviewers,—I’m in nursing school, so my life is busy—and I don’t have the time to sit around resisting the urge to set my manuscript on fire, which is helpful. I wonder how all this time away will affect my opinion of my work once I sit back down to look over the reviews. I’m thinking it will do my fragile ego some good, and in the meantime I’m praying to all of the known gods (especially Thor, I mean seriously…. ) that my beta-readers come back with nice things to say about my novel. If they do, I’m projecting that I’ll be lifted to a higher level of egoistic understanding and will thus have the balls to do another edit and someday send my work into an actual literary agent or publisher. If they think it’s trash, I hope to suck it up and keep on going, re-writing till I pass out or get a serious case of carpal tunnel. After all this time, that’s better than giving up, right?

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