If you like the sensation of standing naked in front of people, then writing might be the life for you. The exposure, of course, is what this is about. I either need to be okay with this or quit, because if a writer has any hopes at all of audience for her art, she needs to stand up and be naked.
The first time I stood up sans protective ego-clothing, it was to show my screenplay (see Why I’m Here) to an agent. She read my nudity and gave me feedback. I didn’t die. Didn’t even catch a cold. I was uncomfortable. Simply uncomfortable.
Since then, I’ve been taking my clothes off more and more. I keep thinking the more I do it, the easier it will be until I’m a pro swinging on a pole in a bar out by the airport. But no, still cold, still uncomfortable.
My last critique group was interesting. One of the members suggested my protagonist have a Happily Ever After with a different character than I had intended. I crossed my arms in front of my goose-pimply skin (because of my nekkidness) and stuttered that my novel was written, including the ending.
We went over the plot together but I think she’s dubious. And she thinks she’s right and I’m wrong. No feeling like the feeling of doubting your naked self.
I’m following my instincts, though. I hear her argument that an audience likes tropes. I’m breaking trope. Now I don’t get too crazy and am confident the readers will see and trust I can take them to a satisfying ending. I’ll just be uncomfortably exposed as they read it and subsequently judge it. And me. In the nude.
The theme ~
My trope is divorced woman learns to love again. I was playing the, “what if,” game with this and I came up with: what if she made the same mistake? How far would she go? What would it really take for her to, “learn to love again”?
What’s hot on TV these days? Naked and Afraid. Dating Naked. Buying Naked.
Naked Writing? Yeah, that a thing.