Yesterday, for our Saturday date night, my wife asked to see Woody Allen’s Midnight in Paris, a visually beautiful film that fell flat for me, though I felt strong connections to aspects of the story. After my first trip to Paris years ago, I returned home intent on quitting my job, selling my house and moving to the City of Light to become a sidewalk painter by day and a smoky-bar-jazz-pianist by night, and to write great novels in between (I actually had a woman come to my door two days after I got home to ask if I would consider selling my house – talk about ignoring a sign from God).
I probably own this film's entire soundtrack on CDs of 1920s French jazz. Most of all, as a writer struggling with how to gain feedback on my first novel, I can relate to the protagonist Gil Pender’s dilemma: Whose critical opinion of my manuscript should I trust? Ernest Hemingway tells Pender (paraphrasing), “Never let another writer read your work. If it’s bad, they’ll enjoy telling you it’s bad. If it’s good, they’ll be jealous and tell you it’s bad. Writer’s are very competitive. All writers.” I’m afraid it’s true that I’m competitive in other aspects of life, but in writing, I like to think I'm different. Isn’t there room for all voices?Who do you ask to read your work? That's my wife who reads everythinmg I write with a red pen in hand (I do the same for her). Is it fair to ask friends for critiques? How do they say "no," even if they don't want to read something? Worse, how do they tell a friend they hate something they wrote? Is this a dilemma for anyone else?
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