Embracing Imperfection
I’m not a therapist and I don’t play one on TV, but I believe perfectionism in writing and life can cause pain and anxiety resulting in the avoidance of anything with the potential to fail. And, I would argue that anything worth doing has the potential to go wrong, the wheels fall off the bus, the wedding is cancelled, the publisher says no, the soufflé collapses, the world does not find you adorable, deserving, or brilliant.
I have been fired, twice divorced, rejected, humiliated, and disappointed. When I was in therapy decades ago, describing my latest heartbreak and tragic failure, the therapist said, “You were disappointed.” This statement made me want to stand and stomp my feet on her Oriental carpet. I didn’t want to be disappointed. I wanted to be misjudged, traumatized, and victimized. There had to be something else, something dramatic and worthy of a sound track. Not a word that could describe the store running out of your favorite flavor of ice cream. Here’s the thing, you can’t succeed or, actually produce, learn, create without imperfection. I appeared in a play while a one-year student in Dublin where a reviewer described me as a “hysterical Yankee mouthpiece.” My Irish friends declared this was high praise.
photo by Nicholas Morris
Three major publishers have purchased my novels. At readings people often asked, “How are you so successful?” Well, I’ve written close to twelve. They were rejected, sometimes kindly, sometimes not so kindly. One manuscript was returned so fast I believe they read the opening sentence and then stuffed the three-hundred plus pages back into the mailer and had the messenger bring it back. Recently, because of a move, I was forced to look into boxes in the back of closets that needed to be emptied, filled with my unpublished books. Some of the writing was pretty good and much of it was very bad. Actually, terrible. I had a romantic fantasy about a terrorist who fakes his own death inspired by the brilliant novel The Lost Honour of Katharina Blum by Heinrich Böll. My terrorist tried to execute the pope and well, never mind. Another one was about a murder at a squash club, I worked in one, with a bunch of rich, mostly mean characters who all had fancy names and a lovely young struggling actress who was innocent and pure, a Cinderella for the 1980s, and deadly dull.
What has worked for me over decades of writing? Imperfection, self-forgiveness, and humility. And swimming, coffee, and way too many bagels. I coach writers afraid of failure, afraid of deadlines, afraid of getting something wrong, or sounding stupid. Getting stuff wrong is at the core of creativity. Nothing, yes, nothing, is free of flaws. Our flaws are what makes the work unique and clearly not composed by a bot, the needlework with one part unstitched, the silly plot, the ‘perfect’ character, the essay that ends up arguing against its thesis, the wrong answer, the mediocre finish. Put your hand up, finish that piece of writing, be willing to lose, to fall in love, be willing to embrace your divine humanity, your perfectly flawed self.
—Molly Moynahan, author and writing coach