It is such a cliche, but true — living well is the best revenge. Keep on smiling, sister.

Writing one true sentence, one scene that transcends language is beyond any plague or shiny bright button to pop. Oh and there is the secret smile we wear of living a creative life without limits, without judgments.

The thing is, I know when I meet someone who is a “real writer” by the common professional standards, and I know when I meet someone who isn’t. Clarion students are writers, but in the professional realm they are not yet real writers until they publish, you know? Which is why we/they all get so twisted up when The Editor comes to teach, even if The Editor has the coaching skills of an oyster. Because they are already in that game. They are already keeping score. People who have written a thousand stories that they have never submitted are not “real writers” by the standards of the game, no matter the quality of the prose. That’s all I was trying to get at — that there is an accepted set of standards that we’ve all absorbed even if we don’t generally talk about them.

And then writers, being an insecure lot, start jostling to see who is most real, most important. Blech.

And on it goes.

This is a tricky conversation for me in general (not just with you, but the whole thing). I feel clear and passionate about this discovery, this decision I’ve made. It is absolutely right for me. But I am also clear that being right for me does not make it right for everyone — maybe anyone — else. I’m not trying to convert or persuade any other writer out there to embrace it. My admiration and respect for other writers, including you, is not based on anything except my appreciation for your work and my respect for the sweat and courage it takes to do it.

What ought to matter most? Where is our success? There is no one answer. It’s for each of us to decide. There are as many paths as there are people.

I had to think about this a bit before responding. One of the things I’ve always valued about you (and Nicola) is your ability to see through b.s. and then convey what you do see clearly. That you’ve done that for me often (both of you) is priceless.

So, am I being a bit disingenuous? Probably. Seeking validation is something I’ve been engaged in apparently all my life. It’s part of what drives me. Which means sometimes I’ve accepted other standards than my own.

There are two bars. The most meaningful one is the effect your work has on ONE person. Because we all receive and react inside our skulls, alone, and at the moment of encounter, that’s all that matters. On that count, none of has anything to feel unsuccessful about.

The second bar comes with the enterprise, and that is that we’re engaged in performance. For that you need an audience. And with each new member of the audience comes a bit more energy to keep working. That bar, though, I think, moves.

But that bar is a game. And it’s a false standard. It’s what leads writers to write the same book over and over again, bands to record the same album over and over again, actors to play the same role over and over again, instead of trying something new and richer. Because the artist then fears losing that audience (which is actually pretty unlikely) because the Other People making book on the artist’s work keep telling the artist that.

It’s a seductive game, though, because when it’s hitting on all eight cylinders, so to speak, it feels so good. For a while.

So, yeah, I was being a bit disingenuous (not entirely intentionally) because I know—as do you—what ought to matter most. I’d still ask that question of the critic to see if the critic understood that, too.

But thanks (once again) for backing me up and making me look at something a little closer. I’m more encouraged today than yesterday.

I ran across this quote today and I thought of you (and Nicola).

It is indeed a game that’s hard to win, especially now that the rules are being re-evaluated on almost every level. I agree with Dave when he says it’s a matter of having no regrets about our individual process as artists and human beings, being okay with the river part of us that’s in love with taking curves and detours to investigate what it means to be alive and on a journey.