Your Aesthetic
At some point in your writing journey, you’re going to have to accept that you have your own, distinctive aesthetic. You’ve always had it, by the way. If you’ve ever picked up a book and then put it down after a couple chapters, then you have an aesthetic. That book didn’t meet it. Since it had been published, it obviously met someone else’s – but it didn’t meet yours. You found it unsatisfying, unlike, perhaps the next book you chose, which you couldn’t put down. Somewhere, however, someone else put that book down after a few pages.
Your evolving aesthetic extends to the stories you tell, from the macro choices of subject matter right down to sentence structure. Except with these stories, you will likely at some point ask other people what they think of it, whether your writing group, or an agent, or a New York editor. If it’s published, lots of people will happily volunteer their opinion on it, much of which will amount to nothing more than whether your story fits their aesthetic.
An odd thing can happen in this exchange. As we reread our work to determine whether it meets our aesthetic, whether it satisfies us, whether we like it, we can accidentally give away our preferences to someone else. That is, we forget that we are the ones who like or don’t like a sentence, who feel a story is truly finished or needs more work, and instead believe only other people can tell us whether our stuff is any good or not. It’s a natural consequence of living with the ups and downs and of acceptance and rejection, of good reviews and bad reviews.
It's toxic to the creative process. I have noticed it in myself from time to time, especially when I’m working on new kind of project. I will give away the smallest portion of my creative power to some unknown, external entity. The moment I do, I’ve rejected myself, I’ve decided, “What I find satisfying, doesn’t matter. What others think matters more.” I can’t know who will like what I’ve written, but I can know if I like it. In fact, that’s all I can know. To accept this fully, is to accept what has been true all my life, what evolves but is unchangeable.
If you like the ideas and perspectives expressed here, feel free to contact me about individual coaching and group workshops.
Everyone Has What It Takes: A Writer’s Guide to the End of Self-Doubt
You can find William at: williamkenower.com