Comparison is the thief of joy
I decided to join an online writing workshop based in New York City this past January—a 10-week writing workshop to learn the fundamental elements of profound writing techniques. Every week, we were to submit a 500-word writing assignment based on a prompt given by our instructor, followed by suggested readings. Our first-class assignment was to read a short memoir by a former classmate called Dragon Slayers, by Jareld Walker. It was so well written and authentic with imagery, rich descriptions, and the perfect amount of sarcasm that challenged stereotypes. This was one of the best short memoirs I had read in years I read his essay at least 10 times before I joined my classmates in the discussion on his work. Looking back, I must admit the other short memoirs we read during our course never held a candle to this one.
This assignment was our introduction to this course, and it gave me an overwhelming feeling of joy. “I’m home, I thought, completely in my element with other writers and a plethora of great literature to choose from.”
We finally gathered in the online chat room to discuss our first reading assignment. In my classmates’ discussion comments, I noticed a pattern. One, everyone loved Dragon Slayers, and two, it was so good that it was intimidating. One by one, each of my classmates mentioned that their writing could never be as well-written and as interesting as this short memoir. This well-written piece opened up the floodgates of fear and insecurities among my classmates. We were all joined together in this course for our love for writing, but on the first day of our first reading assignment, we were quickly robbed of our joy of writing because we fell into the trap of comparisons.
My instructor followed up with a comment that I will never forget:
“One of the tricky things about reading a polished, finished draft is that we don't see how much work goes into getting there and how crappy the first draft might have looked. It's like watching a ballet—all we see is the dazzle and the fruit of hard labor, none of the actual labor. Try to remember that a crappy first draft is your only job! And a crappy first draft is one step closer to a polished one.”
My instructor’s comment reminded all of us that we were comparing our beginning to someone’s ending, someone’s polished, finished product. Jerald Walker probably went through more ugly drafts than we could even fathom before he completed his masterpiece of a memoir. But we didn’t see that part, his beginning, or his ugly drafts in the middle of his writing process.
How many times do we find ourselves stuck in a chokehold of comparisons, paralyzing us from even starting our journey? We let the fear and insecurities that come with comparisons cripple our creativity and our voice. Not realizing that everyone is on a path of their own and that everyone is bringing a unique perspective to the table. If we spend our energy on comparisons, we will never have or be enough. The winding road of comparisons never ends. How many times have we let comparisons rob us of our joy? Because if you’re not enjoying the journey, then why do it at all?
Every writer who has a published book in a bookstore has gone through rounds of rewrites. We can find a library of polished final drafts. There is nothing wrong with revising your work; in fact, it is quite natural and a part of the process of reaching a polished draft. Bernard Malamud, American novelist and short story writer, said, “Revision is one of the most exquisite pleasures of writing.” Revision means to re-see. Write, read, re-see, and rewrite again.
I consider this part of the process a gift. It's encouraging to me to learn that someone’s first draft was not perfect and that they had to put in a lot of time and effort to get to that final product. Whatever it is in life that you are trying to pursue, whether it be writing, personal growth, winning a medal, or starting a business, we all have to start somewhere, and we can't let the comparisons of others stop us before we start. I am encouraged to keep going after that first ugly draft, enjoy the journey, tap into my creativity, and I am also encouraged to know that I'm one step closer to a polished, finished product.
