What do all of these people have in common?
They all suck. Badly. And surprisingly, they don’t seem to know it.
Over the past year, I’ve gotten increasingly involved with various online and print publications and have really enjoyed it. This type of writing, however, is not what I ultimately wanted to do. I love to write, but I don’t want to spend all my time writing about other people’s books. I want write my own books, too.
Recently I decided to leave shift work to focus more of my time on art. This included applying to Humber’s School for Writers Correspondence Course – a renowned course, but one that cost a tiny fortune. I knew that if I got accepted into the program, I’d have to pay up, so I began looking into grants and scholarship programs.
One of the grants I applied for belonged to the York Region Arts Council. Silly me thought that my chances of landing a YRAC grant were pretty darn good. I had a pretty good portfolio and I’d agreed to write for the YRAC’s new YorkScene website, too.
Months passed and the deadline to hear back about the grant came and went. I took to checking my mailbox every day. People say that a watched pot never boils. Well, a watched mailbox never fills. On Thanksgiving Day, after hearing nothing in the mail as I was supposed to, I was included in a mass e-mail sent out to all rejected Grant applicants. “Thanks for trying. Sorry you didn’t make it,” was the gist of the thing.
I was devastated, of course, but it wasn’t about the money. It was about the above. It was about American Idol contestants who suck and suck badly. When people watch American Idol, they watch it as much for the success as for the failure. The above video has been viewed over 6 million times! These awful singers are just hilarious to watch. How do they not know how bad they are?
Over the years, after that first bout of curl-up-and-cry rejection from grad school, I’ve harboured a fear of what I term “tone-deaf writing”. What if I’m just not good enough? What if I just can’t see how awful my writing actually is? What if I’m one of those sad, sad people who pursue a dream to death to the point where it is no longer inspiring, but shameful and a tad depressing?
Being rejected for the grant -not even through snail mail like I was advised I’d be, but through a mass BCC – reinforced all my fears about being a tone-deaf writer. I found myself thinking, ‘Gee whiz, good thing I didn’t quit my day job, and thank goodness I signed up for courses in Project Management too.’
Of course my relationship with writing didn’t end there, but it certainly was a low point for me. Feelings of insecurity and uncertainty are normal, but what do you think of these feelings in relation to art? Of course it’s only natural for every artist to experience a certain degree of insecurity. Then again, what if you’re a “tone-deaf” artist? It’s naive to believe that a certain degree of talent isn’t needed to succeed in art. Some people just don’t have an affinity for certain arts. I can’t sing for beans and I know that. What if I can’t write for beans, either, but I just can’t accept it? What if you’re a tone-deaf artist? How would you ever know? And when, in the pursuit of art, should you accept your limitations and stop?