My struggle with validation as a writer

There’s been some discussion stirred up lately that started with comparing self-publishing to traditional publishing and has ended up touching on the issue of validation. Agent Rachelle Gardner asked blog readers, “Why are you pursuing traditional publishing?” More than 200 writers responded, and one of the more commonly touched-on reason was validation. They wanted agents and editors to confirm their belief that their writing is worthy of being published. They want the validation of being told, “Yes, you are a good writer who we want to invest in.”

Author Mike Doran put the spotlight on this answer in his recent post: Does Traditional Publishing Validate an Author? His assertion is that while traditional publishing can be a source of validation for writers, it shouldn’t be the sole or even the main source.

A writer’s self-worth, motivation, professionalism, work ethic, and craft, should not require recognition from peers or professionals.

I entirely agree with this. Sure, those things help. Who doesn’t enjoy having their writing praised? Who doesn’t want to see great sales numbers? Yet if you are reliant on that external validation, if you need a regular dose of it to keep you writing (or to even keep you happy as a writer), then you have placed yourself in an extremely dangerous situation. It will be increasingly easy for you to lose focus on why you started writing in the first place.

How do I know?

Because I’ve been there. I’ve been at the place where I crave the validation that comes from traditional publishing. This can manifest in different ways, depending on where you are in your writing career. Maybe you’re at the point where validation comes from a positive response to a query letter. Maybe it’s positive feedback from your writing group. Maybe you have an agent (or an editor) and the validation comes from interacting with them as you prepare your novel for submission or publication.

My situation came to a crux a few years back. I was halfway through a novel, and I simply lost all desire to continue. I was frustrated by about a dozen rejections that all came in at the same time. I started thinking along these lines: “I’m taking too long to get there. Is this even worth it? What if I never get published? Maybe I should just throw up all my stuff online, maybe self-publish. It’d be faster.”

Then I did a mental double-take. Wait. Faster? Worth it? Get there?

What exactly was I basing all this on? Was there some unspoken rule that if I didn’t get a book published before a certain date, game over? Pack up and go home? If I got a certain number of rejections, did I get blacklisted from literary agencies? And what was I basing my idea of “worth it” on?

My perspective was skewed. Badly. It was painful to recognize, but it may have saved me in the long run.

What did I do? First off, I stopped writing for a couple months. This was partly to avoid burning myself out, and partly because I recognized that I was writing for the wrong reasons. I was seeking validation from the arbitrary milestones that I’d set up for myself. At the same time, I was mentally and emotionally punishing myself for not having reached those goals faster. It was a nasty cycle, and one I was relieved to break.

I took those couple of months and forced myself to reconsider my attitude and perspective towards writing. I knew it wasn’t healthy, and if I truly cared about my writing, I needed to set myself straight before any joy I had was ground down to a fine dust.

I’m sure you’ve come across this question, whether with your friends, on a writing forum, or blog: “If you knew, without a doubt, that you would never get published or succeed as a professional writer, would you still continue to write?”

After taking the space I needed to clear my thoughts, I asked myself this and come up with an honest answer. Yes. I would continue to write. Some things would change. I’d probably not invest quite as much time in it. I might switch to short stories instead of novels. That sort of thing. But I love writing, in and of itself, and would not want to give it up entirely, even if I knew it would never get me published. It’s a way I express myself. It’s part of who I am, and that’s what matters. Not whether someone else puts a gold star on my story, or whether it gets good reviews on Amazon. Yes, validation remains part of it. I still enjoy getting emails from my agent. I enjoy getting reviews from beta readers. But I’m not reliant on those things to make me sit down in front of a blank page and start pecking at the keys.

I do it because I love writing as a whole. It’s an adventure, and I’m excited about what I’ll see and experience along the way.