brutality at the hands of a 21yr old

As I begin to let the barricades of my life down, I found myself letting a complete stranger read my work today in a bar. She gleefully requested if she could "copy edit" like she used to on the school newspaper, and proceeded to leave no sentence untouched. I had to hide my appallment. I had to pretend like everything was okay. I had to look at her markings after she finished. As I said "Thank you," I realized that I was thankful, despite the misgivings I had, despite my disclaimers, despite the lack of polish of my piece of writing that she decimated.

I think I was mostly offended by her age (twenty one years old) and her eagerness to edit "the way she used to (in high school!)."

I don't claim that any of my work is perfect, but I do go to a school where "editing" and "grammar" are not as important as the "story." Perhaps that has made me a little lazy, but I thought I had an inherent sense of the rules, but apparently, I don't. Apparently, my style of writing is just plain off...no matter what I say. And that was a major blow to my writerly mind.

The other day in class, I was looking over the shoulder of a girl sitting next to me who was reading from her own work. She had written something about how her mother "through" away something of hers. Not "threw" but "through." I don't make those kinds of mistakes, I suppose, but seriously, this girl left a lot of marks on those pages. My pages. My work.

I know that I don't take criticism well. In fact, I take it about as well as anyone ever does. I think my fear of criticism is a deep-down-scaredy-cat concern that I am not a good writer and this is all a waste of time. I have this deep fear that I really suck and no one's gone out of their way to tell me at Columbia because after all, I'm paying them, and they are making money off me. (yes, I know. I have a marvelous way of labeling all possibilities of my being asked to grab my ankles.) I know that I have my strengths. Lately, I have begun to feel my writer's voice come out in my own speech, and that excites me. I know I am good at writing to some degree, but I worry that I don't have what it takes. What does it take? I don't know exactly. Talent. Persistence. Word count. Polished pieces.

Listen, indulge me for a second. I know I'm being a total baby. (as in, 'Waaa, someone picked on me.') I do know in her heart she was feeling like she was helping me. On a completely intellectual level, I can totally appreciate that.

One thing this has taught me is to really look at my work and decide what level of critique I can tolerate and if I am as certain of a piece and its weight as I can be. Everyone is going to have beef with something. Not everyone agrees on one thing, writer, writing style. A lot of it depends on the person reading. For instance, Vonnegut's my favorite, some people think he's too simple (I say, deceptively simple, but, oh well for them).

anyway. ha ha. someone marked up my work with a pen. truly, a learning experience.