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Become a Patron!By Brendan O’Meara
Brooke Champagne (@champagne_brooke) knows many things, but maybe most of all is that feeling of being able to sit and labor through shitty writing to get to the good writing. And get to the good writing she did in her brilliant essay collection Nola Face: A Latina’s Life in the Big Easy (University of Georgia Press).
You can’t put this essay collection in a box, unless that box is titled “really cool shit.”
Brooke is the rare guest that just brought the heat from the start. It reminded me of my early chats with Elizabeth Rush and Elena Passarello. Brooke was candid about what it’s like to work as a writer and instructor, everything from the toxic jealousies to the opposite end of that spectrum of celebrating other people’s successes as her own, in a very Hanif Aburraqib-ian way.
This is a fun one. Buckle up, friend!
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Parting Shot: On Being a Pro
During this conversation we talked about feedback and it being nice to hear what’s going good from time to time. The writer’s mind isn’t necessarily equipped to handle an unrelenting barrage of criticism. Yes, leveling up weaknesses is how we get better … in one sense. But it’s also being told that nebulous term “what’s working” that also keeps our spirits from cratering.
During the writing of The Front Runner, I could probably count on one hand the amount of complimentary feedback I received. I could probably count it on a Ninja Turtle hand. I’m a pretty insecure dude, but I’m also not a pathologically needy person, so I never once asked the awkward question, “So, what did you like?” I’d rather not know than hear someone blather their way through some cloudy explanation, a meandering generality that’s really saying the loud part quiet.
Then I got to thinking that the proof that I’m somewhat decent at what I do was in the very fact that I was granted permission to do this in the first place. If a quarterback is drafted in the first round, obviously people believe in him. What more proof do you need? From that point on, it does nobody any favors to pad the ego when instead we should be developing him into the fullest realization of his abilities.
That said, when all you hear is criticism, it’s easy to get discouraged. It’s nice, on occasion, to hear what you’re going well. That gives you confidence to know that your spin on things is entertaining, be it funny, or gripping, or, if lyrical writing is your thing (not a fan personally) to hear that your language is (gag) beautiful.
It takes so much delusion on the part of the artist to keep at it that from time to time it’d be nice to feel reinforced. But as things level up, as you become more of a pro, it might just be that what goes unsaid is the greatest compliment and the greatest proof of your abilities as a writer.
It’s just … you swim around long enough you’re bound to get fish hooks and six pack rings caught on your body and you need people to free you from it and give you buoyancy. Also, if they’re giving you money to do it, that might be the only compliment you need. For me, I need to know, from time to time, that you’re not bored. Like Brooke said, a tiny lol or maybe just a tiny good in the margin. That’s it. That’s all it takes.
