The Value in Accepting Advice
As most of you know by now, I wrote a book this year. I started last October (2019), but 2020 turned out to be a great year to continue sitting on my butt and churning out words. Literally what the heck else is there to do?
I'm at the point in the process where I'm in my third round of edits, preparing to send the book to production for release in NOVEMBER. AHHHHHH. My first two rounds of edits were me, myself, and I combing through the manuscript: Deleting, correcting, reorganizing. This time around, I am incorporating edits from my carefully curated team of five brilliant editors.
Let me tell you. It took a lot of courage-- not to pat myself on the back, but it's true-- to send my book out to a team of editors. When you're self-publishing, it's all to easy to let your pride get the best of you, thinking that you know what's best for your book. Someone else's opinion is just going to get in the way, and isn't that the beauty of not dealing with a publisher??
And yet, I have never written a single thing that did not get better when someone else critiqued it. Be it a high school English paper, a pitch when I was working in unscripted television, or a blog I was nervous about posting. A full 100% success rate in improvement from feedback.
I knew I needed help with my book. I knew I needed to be brave and shakily place it in the hands of brilliant women who could make it better. But I also knew how difficult critique might be to hear. I knew the book wasn't near perfect, but even knowing how much work it needed, I had no doubt that I would feel overwhelmed, annoyed, and defensive. It's similar to being a mom-- I know I have plenty of room to improve, but I pour so much of myself into my kids, it's still hard to hear how I might do better. I poured so much of my time and beliefs into this book that a part of me didn't want to know what could be better. Who cares? It was my time, my idea, my words. I know what's best for my book.
So I spent the two months my editors had their manuscripts preparing my heart. I prayed God would give me wisdom to decipher solid critique from ideas that didn't align with my mission. I edited the manuscript again on my own, which helped me see more clearly just how much more work there was to be done. I spent time silently reflecting on the gratitude I have for my team (some might call it meditation but I'm still scared of that word), remembering all the reasons I chose these five women and how lucky I am that they said yes. For TWO months, I did these kinds of preparations in hopes that I'd be ready to receive wise words from such trusted sources.
I'm so glad I did, because it's still not easy. But it's not as hard as I anticipated, either! I find sweeping joy as I delete sections that someone says don't add value to the book, kind of like cleaning out a drawer full of stuff I used to love but doesn't bring me joy anymore. I take a deep breath when someone doesn't understand a section and try to see it from their perspective. It's crazy how different words can read when a different brain is reading them!
Instead of thinking, "How do you not get that?" or "But this is such an important point!", I've been surprisingly able to quickly evaluate how to remedy the critique, or part ways with some words altogether.
But this is more than just about writing a book. I've been reminded of JUST how important advice is from trusted people in our lives. Yes, our lives are our OWN to live, but they can be so much smoother, so much better when we are willing to quietly, humbly, and graciously accept feedback from people we trust.
Choosing who has a say is crucial. This is where the train can derail— if we let willy-nilly critique bombard us at every turn. If someone is critical of you in a way that forces your inner soul to shapeshift into a ghost of who you're meant to be, DON'T LISTEN. Sometimes your trusted circle might not be who you think it "should" be. It might not be family or teachers or obvious choices. It doesn't matter how you know them-- it only matters if you can trust them. This is how you'll know:
1) They've proven that they support and love you exactly for who you are
2) They’re experienced and successful in a given “field” (relationships, child-rearing, writing, etc.)
At least for me, those are the two biggest indicators that someone is worth listening to, even when it's hard.
For my book, I'm able to digest their critiques because I KNOW they're brilliant, but also because I KNOW they're rooting for me. They revel in my success as much as I do. More, actually. They couldn't help but overflow encouragement almost twice as much as they gingerly yet directly offered suggestions. THAT'S what our souls need. THOSE are the people who will help us get the most out of our lives. Not people who will tell me what I want to hear, but people who will tell me what I need to hear— the good AND the hard.
Whether it’s my book or the adoption process or child-rearing— I cannot begin to imagine how much more challenging my life would be without honest and loving input from those who know and care for me.
Even though Western society tells us we should do exactly whatever the heck we want, our lives will only ever improve if we humble ourselves to edits from a trusted team. They might prod the story to move in this direction instead of that, help you remember your truest voice, or rearrange a few things to avoid setbacks or failure.
Our life is our story, so let's make it the best it can be— and that means eliciting necessary feedback.