As a struggling writer, I’d like to posit a theory of Author Autonomy. It’s based off the concept of Body Autonomy and has encouraged me enough over the past week that I decided to share it empowers other struggling writers.
Like Body Autonomy, Author Autonomy comes down to confidence and consent.1 Armed with a healthy sense of body autonomy, anyone can have opinions about your body, but you're the one who defines your self-perception. You learn to be comfortable and confident in the body you inhabit. You do seek out advice on health/exercise/and fashion, but you make the ultimate decisions about your body. Healthy looks different on different people.
It should be the same for authors. Writers are the creators and owners of their body of work. Authors should be aware of how they write, what helps them write well, what feeds their creative process, and what is at the heart of a given story or essay they are writing. They don’t HAVE to write in a particular way, plot out their entire novel, or produce a certain number of words a day. If they are pursuing writing, they can feel comfortable using the label, “writer,” even if they haven’t published professionally yet.
They should have the final say about their work and feel confident about their final product. Authors need community and guidance from those further along in writing path. However, criticism and feedback should be sifted through carefully, paying attention to the source. Authors shouldn’t act on every bit of advice they get. They should protect and nourish their creative space. They should be empowered to ignore feedback that don’t ring true to their writing process or their current work in progress—even if the source is a meaningful person in their life.
These thoughts emerged after a spell of struggling edit one of my novels. I’ve been working on it for a LONG time, have gone through multiple edits based on feedback from readers and a couple of editors. At this point, I WANT to think I’m ready for the next step, but I’ve been having a crisis of confidence. I’ve been suffering from weak Author Autonomy. This undoubtedly manifests differently in authors, but for me, I’ve had low confidence in my novel for two reasons: I wasn’t seeking feedback from my target audience, and I was focusing too much on my weaknesses as a writer. These two fed off each other in a powerful, negative feedback loop.2
Over the past few years, I’ve solicited feedback from beta readers and a couple of editors I’m friends with. A lot of the feedback has been helpful (especially in the realm of line edits fixing tense and grammar), but I’ve often been at a loss with how to weigh out the big picture feedback. Some of these edits meant changing the heart of the novel or scrapping the work altogether to write it from a different approach altogether. While these changes likely would result in an interesting story, it isn’t the story I set out to tell. It isn’t the story that keeps me up at night imagining my character unpacking the mystery surrounding her family of origin.
I started second-guessing my writing. Maybe this story wasn’t worth telling because it felt like I was never going to get it right no matter how many edits I made.
Or maybe, I had the wrong people reading my draft.
It took me a while to realize that NONE of my readers or even my editors were from my target audience. These were ALL wonderful people whom I love dearly—many of them writers themselves. However, my novel isn’t what they’d naturally pull off the shelf to read for pleasure. And because of my underdeveloped sense of Author Autonomy, I didn’t have a healthy level of confidence to reject the unhelpful advice. I wasted a bunch of time dithering over impossible-to-make edits to the point it crippled me.
The other part of the equation was that I was fixating on the weaknesses in my storytelling. I got caught up in edits relating to my style of writing. Things that are a matter of preference, but often touted as “truth” to aspiring authors. But the truth is, some people like stories that quietly unfurl, building up a slow burn and others crave action on every page. We all have our preferences. And it’s hard to argue that one way is the BEST way.
Yet, due to my lack of confidence and desire to appease those who’d kindly taken the time to edit my novel, I found myself again conflicted about how I naturally tell stories and the edits I’d received. I was so hyper focused on fixing what was “wrong” with the story, that I forgot about the strengths of my story.3
There are times such changes are warranted. Experienced writers have developed a strong enough sense of Author Autonomy to typically know when this needs to occur. But I’m not there yet. I’m still learning that I should get feedback from people who will (probably) love my story, and not just from people who love ME.
I’m remedying the other half of my struggle by trying to hone and showcase my strengths. Actually, I’m working on just acknowledging that I HAVE writing strengths. A fellow writer today told me I should stop framing my strengths as, “I like to write atmospheric novels with a strong sense of setting and characters on quests to find themselves.” Own the strength, she said. Say, instead, “I am good at crafting novels with a strong emotional backdrop, complex plot, and believable characters.”
Becca Syme reminds us that every writer has weaknesses.4 No matter how many edits a manuscript gets or how many classes a writer takes, even the best authors will never eliminate every weak part in a story. But good writers aren’t known for their weaknesses. They’re known for their strengths.
And what some readers view as faults (too much exposition/too tropey) other readers absolutely adore.
Syme says think about your favorite books. What author do you pre-buy copies of because you love their books that much? Obviously, that author has weaknesses. Do you love their books because their weaknesses don’t bother you very much? Or do you love those books because you think they are GOOD books? They hit the spot, making you feel connected, thrilled, happy, moved, etc.
The way the author writes meshes with what you want to read. You are her target audience.
This was revolutionary to me. I didn’t need to fix everything my previous beta readers and editors said was “wrong” with the book. You can’t write a book everyone loves. You need to write the book, you love and then find the audience that loves the same thing. Because for the right audience, most of these “wrong” things would be RIGHT.5
You know your story best. It's YOUR imaginary world and YOUR story you’re writing. Tell it how you want. (Granted this may mean pubbing through non-traditional means even if you have your heart set on traditional publishing. But really, what’s most important: telling the stories on your heart to the audience who will love them.)
So, to the author who finds themselves stuck as I’ve been, consider the source of the feedback before giving it consent to enter your emotional and creative world. Have you gotten this feedback repeatedly? Does it ring true to the story you are telling or essay you are writing? IS IT FROM YOUR TARGET AUDIENCE? If yes, then give it some consideration.
But if your gut pushes back, or this is the first time you've gotten the criticism, or it not from your book’s actual audience, then just set it aside. Practice good Author Autonomy and play up your strengths! Your audience will love you for it.
This isn’t especially novel, but I haven’t heard this articulated yet in the circles I hang out in. There is certainly lots of room for further expansion and clarification.
Weirdly, I haven’t experienced this in my professional life, where I have a part-time job writing emails and articles. Because of a good working relationship with built-in editors who are knowledgeable about the topic I’m writing, I have great Author Autonomy there. But it took me years to recognize my weak Author Autonomy in my novel-writing efforts.
Editing IS about improving the story. You want beta readers to point out what needs to be fixed. BUT authors often have very feeble egos. We actually need our strengths affirmed as much as the weaknesses pointed out. Knowing what is RIGHT about your story or essay increases your desire to write, bolsters your confidence, and helps you know what you DON’T need to fix. This is especially true for recovering perfectionists, who tend to inflate criticism and downplay praise.
Dear Writer, You Need to Quit, p. 59-62.
Finding my audience IS a bit of a struggle. If you’re interested in being a beta reader and like to read stories about adults looking to connect with their birth family with an international setting with a strong faith background, message me. Let me know who your favorite authors are and if it seems like a good fit, I’ll send you my current manuscript. A comp for the story would be a mash-up of Susan Meissner, Melanie Dobson, and Madeline Brent. (A weird mix for some, I know) :)