Am I the Asshole For Being Jealous of My Friend’s Literary Success?

Well, howdy! Fancy meeting you here!

Welcome back to another installment of God’s favorite mistake, Am I the Literary Asshole? It’s an advice column that’s also got a terrifically high ABV. I’m your host, Kristen Arnett, and I’m currently researching the best way to install a Kegerator in my writing office. Can you imagine how much work I’d get done if I had beer on tap 24/7? Answer: Not much!

Perhaps we could take a short hops break and enjoy some fine summer fruit. How about we pitch in on a festive sangria? Beat the heat while actively fighting off scurvy. Two birds, one stone, zero inhibitions.

I’ll pour a glass for you, a glass for me, and we’ll jump right into the questions.

Cheers!

1) I work two jobs, one in fiction editing, and someone I’ve been working with for the past years is absolutely incredible. They’ve got a constant fanbase, create incredible stories quickly, and constantly blows everyone’s expectations out of the water. Thing is… I’m jealous. I’ve gone through the wringer to get a degree and formal training, but they’ve always been better at it, from day one. 

I wish I had the same skill or talent, but everything I’ve ever written has been form-rejected, including by companies I’ve worked for. And while my friend insists it’s just impostor syndrome and I could do the same, they don’t have much time available to help. The gap between us just keeps growing wider, and I’m not sure how to cope. Am I a terrible person, someone who needs to work harder, or a moron who should quit chasing shadows?

Hello, friend. Thanks for writing in with this one.

It is incredibly difficult to sit with feelings like the ones that you’re describing. Part of that, surely, is the large chunk of your spirit that wants to refuse to engage with negativity as it relates to yourself and your art. You like this person, you enjoy their work, and you don’t want to feel competitive about any of it. Alas, occasionally our feelings decide to move in difficult directions despite our very best wishes and good intentions.

It’s normal to feel this way. The fact that you’re able to pinpoint exactly what’s going on in your life with regard to all of this is a very good thing. It means that you understand what’s really happening here. This person has talent and it’s making you think (and worry) about your own work. It has caused you to believe that your writing isn’t good enough.

Now, is this true? I’m guessing that it’s not. It can be very, very easy to compare ourselves to others in this way, especially when we see that they’re succeeding in ways that we would like for ourselves. But writing isn’t a competitive sport. It’s not a race. It’s art, and all art is different and has different requirements for different artists. The fact that you haven’t found “success” in the same way that this person has isn’t indicative of your talent, or lack there of.

I guarantee you this person has struggles of their own when it comes to their work. Secret pains, jealousies, stresses that you know nothing about. We all hold these things! It’s easy to compare ourselves to others, but it’s much harder to allow ourselves room to try, try, and try again. I would urge you to take some time to think about your work with kindness. Give yourself permission to make the art that you feel drawn to make, regardless of how you expect others might receive it. The sweeter you are to yourself, the better things will feel. There’s not a divide between the two of you. You’re each moving at your own specific pace, making your own specific art. And that’s a good thing!

Here, let me top off your glass while we check out the next question:

2) Hey there! Don’t know how much of a literary asshole this makes me, but I’ve been recovering from burnout and trying to get back into writing. My past writing quality—which feels more alive and not half bad when I reread it—seems better than anything I’ve come up with lately… and it paralyzes me when I try to write now. To be honest, I am neurotic to a fault, so it wouldn’t surprise me if I’m just overthinking everything. But my concern about my present writing quality is getting in the way of just telling a freaking story. Do you have any tips on how not to be a literary asshole to yourself when you’re returning after burning out? XD

Oh buddy! Yes, I do!

The simplest answer is this: Give yourself some time off. Cut yourself some slack. Be easy on yourself, friend.

When we sit down during burnout and try to force ourselves to write something magical and perfect, quite often the opposite can (and will) occur. Your brain says no, you write a bunch of stuff you don’t care about, and then you wind up feeling bad because you didn’t get the desired results from this painful exercise.

Whenever I feel burnt out (because yes, it does happen), I allow myself to spend time with something that makes me feel good, but also lets me feel creative. I reread favorite books. I rewatch beloved TV shows and movies. I’m a huge fan of spending time with art that we already know and love. We can get a lot of mileage out of the things that made us want to make art in the first place.

Spend time just letting your brain wander. Take walks. Be in nature. Go to museums. See plays. Do things that spur you toward creativity. Occasionally our wells run a little dry, and that’s our cue to go fill them up again with all kinds of beautiful things. You’ll write again, and it will be fun. I promise!

Are there any orange slices left in this sangria? Trying to prevent scurvy! Let’s pour out the last of the pitcher and dive into our final query:

3) A good friend of mine just informed me that she’s thinking of opening up a bookstore. I don’t know how to tell her that this is a bad idea. First of all, she has no money. And it’s a recession. Then there’s the fact that she is not what I’d call business-minded. I know I’m going to wind up hearing about how she’s gone into bankruptcy over this and I’m going to want to say I told you so. She hasn’t asked for my opinion. But should I just tell her that now and save us all the trouble?

This is another one that’s easy to answer!

She hasn’t asked for your opinion, so just go ahead and keep your thoughts to yourself.

We can’t know if your friend will even follow through on this. Maybe it was just a passing fancy, something that struck them in the moment. Perhaps they have been thinking about this particular plan for far longer than you realize. Perhaps not. Maybe it will result in bankruptcy! But they very specifically did not ask your opinion about this. And unless you think they’re going to be hitting you up for money in the very near future, I’d just let then go ahead and make their own decisions.

And hey, we don’t always have to say I told you so (even if we really feel like it).

And that’s all the time we have for today! Join me next time when I answer more of your anonymous questions (send them HERE, friends) and I’ll probably still be scavenging leftover fruit from the sangria pitcher like a lazy pirate.

Ahoy mateys,
Dad

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Are you worried you’re the literary asshole? Ask Kristen via email at AskKristen@lithub.com, or anonymously here.