Writers and Critics: Why Art Students Just Aren’t That Hardcore

Last night, I was at work – I work at my college campus paper as a copyeditor – and we discovered a Very Bad Article.

Now, we didn’t quite know what to do.  We felt that we couldn’t let this one slide, but we couldn’t really do much with the writer of the article being in the room at the time.  (He’s a nice guy and not a bad writer, jut apparently not cut out to do stage reviews.)  Finally, the copy chief jumped the Arts & Life editor when he stepped outside, and he agreed to have us do a digital copy (which we could rearrange and rewrite at will) rather than a hard copy, which we could only proofread.

My little copyediting escapade of last night brought to mind something that happened to me last year, when I was taking Drawing II.  It was a curious event that happened when we did our first critique.

Now, I like to draw, but I’m nothing spectacular as an artist – I can draw some excellent naked people, but that’s just about it.  My piece for that particular critique was not one that I was proud of: I’d made (in my eyes) mistakes beyond count and measure, the lighting was off, the symbolism was strange, and many other things were just WRONG about it that I couldn’t put my finger on.

Fast-forward to the critique.  I brought my pieces into class, expecting the critique to go similarly to the critiques I’d done in Creative Writing: brutally honest, meant to work like a chipper at a gem to take out all the crap and leave behind something priceless.

But something very odd happened.

I ended up receiving little to no constructive criticism.  Instead, I was told that “the mouse is cute” and “I like the atmosphere.”

I was so frustrated I wanted to pull out some of my own hair.  I like the atmosphere too!  But this composition’s a depressing one with a girl lying in a heap in a dirty alley, and you tell me that the mouse is cute?!  It’s not even a mouse!  IT’S A RAT!

It was then that I discovered the fundamental difference between graphic artists and writers.

Writers, by nature, have to stand up to harsh criticism.  Since our work can be fixed and reworked to no end, we get used to the harsh judgement – even of our writerly peers – and simply go to and fix them.  Artists, on the other hand, are apparently rather sensitive during their formative college years.

Am I right?  I’m pretty sure I  am… but, if I’m not, do correct me.

Lord, Have Mercy on our Souls

I know I promised a photo-laden post, but I stumbled on something in the AQ Connect group forums that I just couldn’t pass up.

http://jennifersolow.blogspot.com/2006/04/surefire-query-letter-is-here.html

If you’ve never seen somebody completely self-possessed, try this writer.

First of all, why any agent would accept such an unpleasant and odd query is beyond me.

Second, are you allowed to send agents things that are practically pornography?

Third, who on God’s green Earth IS Jennifer Solow?  Her blog is titled “The Famous Author Chronicles,” but I’ve never heard of her in my life.

Sigh.

The Yellow-Toothed Demon

You know, since I’m out of school now that exam week is over, I decided that today I would work on The Final Experiment for an hour.  Sixty minutes.

The only problem I’ve run into is that I can’t seem to sit still for more than ten minutes to work on it.

I set a digital timer for one hour, starting it and stopping it when I started and stopped writing.  There are 32 minutes left on the timer, and I started at ten this morning.  (As I write this, it’s 12:34.)

Yes, I admit taht this problem may stem from one of my new obsessions.  There are three.  Honestly, though, not all of it stemmed from my lack of self-control.  (At least, not too much.)  I mean, at some point, I had to eat lunch… and when I was in the middle of writing, when I was really getting into it, my mom called.

Total break in concentration.

I think I’ll try again later.  Writers, any way to beat this little demon called ‘distraction’?