Page 63 of Trust Again

Chapter 21

Nolan twisted his hair into a knot and fastened it with two pens that he borrowed from Blake’s pencil case.

“Much better,” he said as he took some printouts from his briefcase. “Now, I read your assignments. While many of you would like to work for publishers or other companies, I know some of you dream of being able to live off your writing,” he began, sauntering toward our table circle.

Yes, table circle. Today he’d asked us to sit cross-legged on the tables.

“If that’s what you really want, then you have to learn how to deal with criticism. Today”—he handed Blake his assignment—“I’ve torn you guys to shreds.” He handed the next sheet to Paige.

Her blue eyes widened and swam with tears when she saw the sea of red ink scrawled in the margins.

“For much of your career, you’ll have to respond to unfair criticism.” He handed Everly her paper.

The second she looked at the page, her smile disappeared.

As for me, I’d enjoyed the assignment. In general, I really liked the fact that Nolan pushed us to take on topics that meant something to us, and I’d really put a lot of myself into this assignment. So I, too, was shocked by the red slashes and comments on the paper he returned to me. It felt uncomfortably similar to reading that harsh review of my latest book.

Still, I began to pore over every single comment. Here, my descriptions were too vague; there, my dialogue was not believable; and overall, my metaphors were poorly constructed. I swallowed. This was hard to take. And not particularly helpful, in my opinion. All of Nolan’s comments seemed a matter of personal taste.

Frowning, I read on until I reached his final remark:

Next time, I’d like to see fewer complicated sentences. Otherwise: well done. Keep it up!

He’d pulled one over on us. I raised an eyebrow and looked his way.

“Ready?” Nolan asked us, with a clap.

A murmur of approval came from our small group.

“How did you feel about my comments?”

Nolan slid off his desk and walked over to our circle. He sat down on Everly’s table.

“You can see on my face how I felt,” Everly said, avoiding Nolan’s eyes.

He patted her briefly on the shoulder, in a gesture of support.

“And you, Dawn?” he asked, turning slightly to look at me.

My mouth suddenly felt dry, as all eyes turned my way. I swallowed nervously. “Most of the comments were kind of confusing to me. Usually I have no trouble with your feedback and always try to incorporate your suggestions.”

Nolan pointed at me. “Dawn understands the point. I deliberately didn’t write any constructive criticism in the margins. You won’t be able to convince every reader. Some people might even hate your work, no matter how much effort you put into it. I want you to learn how to differentiate between helpful criticism and personal taste. It’s not easy to take criticism. Especially when you’re really invested in your work. The most important thing for you to do is filter out the noise, the harsh words, and to not take the rest of it too personally. Have a look at the reviews of some of your favorite books and you’ll see what I mean.”

“I’ve actually done that,” Jamie said. “Complete nonsense. The reviewer hated everything I liked about the book.”

“So what do we learn from this?” Nolan asked.

“I don’t know, man. That even our favorite authors sometimes get bad reviews and you can’t make everyone happy?” Blake looked at Nolan quizzically.

“Exactly.”

Thoughts of last week’s review hit me again. But suddenly I saw it with different eyes.

“Thanks, Nolan,” I said abruptly.

He grabbed my hand and lifted it high. “By George, I think she’s got it! Three cheers for Dawn and for the fact that she called me by my name!”

My classmates grinned.

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