I think sometimes Iām a little bit too critical of the media I read or watch, even when I thoroughly enjoy it, and this is challenging because as a novice creator myselfāan artist and a writerāI never want to dish out any form of criticism that I myself couldnāt take. And also plenty of people adore the media that I canāt tolerate, just like how I adore the media that they despise, and I really like to talk about writing and to pull apart what works and what doesnāt work, not just in my own work but in anything I engage with, because I like finding out what makes a story tick and I want to be able to use those techniques in my own work (or avoid it if it doesnāt suit the vibe Iām going for). But I hate being critical of other writers, as a writer, and as a writer sometimes I feel like Iām incapable of not being critical because I want to continue to improve and learn from those ahead of me, for better or worse (usually for better). And sometimes when I read half of a book and adore it, only for the second half to uppercut me in the jaw for getting invested, I do feel betrayed when the promises of a story arenāt met, or when the first half of the book and the second half feel like two separate stories, one of which wasnāt advertised on the blurb and that I didnāt sign up for, and I want to complain about how much it frustrates me. And yet some people love being surprised by a narrative and getting more than what they signed up for. And I lead an itty-bitty writerās workshop at my local library, because my local library didnāt have one and I wanted so desperately to be a part of a writing group, and Iāve been leading the workshop for three years now and still I feel like Iām the least qualified person within the group to lead it. But I am leading it, and we always start off by talking about what book weāre reading, and we complain about the shortcomings and champion the successes of whatever narrative weāre dissecting. I have so many thoughts about so many things I read and watch and engage with and yet sometimes Iām afraid that if I share those thoughts publicly, if I ever become published, my critiques of others is going to become a bludgeon for critics of my own work. And there will always be critics of my own work. This is fine. But I also do not want to be the kind of writer who picks apart and over-analyzes my peers to a degree that it makes people who do enjoy those books feel stupid for enjoying it. Itās just a matter of taste, genuinely, and my opinion isnāt that important. Yet when I enjoy a book thoroughly I feel so, so excited about it that I just canāt help but lose my mind, and I want to talk about that, too, as much as I want to talk about the books that infuriate me. I justā¦ love writing so much as a creative expression, whether or not Iām the one doing the writing, and I want to talk about the highs and lows of it all. But I donāt want to step on toes, either. There is merit in the media I dislike and there are stains on the media that I love, and sometimes I just really want to talk about it.
