Drawers Full of Pencil Stubs

It is possible to be too nice to people. I say this as a person married to a man who will say, nearly every day, that what I am wearing is very cute. If he doesn’t say this, he doesn’t say anything unless asked directly. “Should I wear these earrings?” It isn’t possible for my husband to be too nice. He is perfectly nice. If he changed, I would weep.

But that doesn’t apply to everyone or every topic.

Take my writing group, for example. In conversation over lunch with another member of the group, we agreed that the members of the group are often too nice in their critiques. This has frustrated me for a while, mostly because I feel compelled to rein in my criticisms of others’ writing, but also because I don’t think it helps to have everyone start their remarks about mine with the phrase, “I love this.”

So, I mentioned this at today’s writing group meeting and, right away, I sensed the gearing up of the red pencil thinking. Today, there was more, ‘This part was great but this part needs work.’ And I loved that because it felt like the other writers were telling me where I’d dropped a stitch, where the seams didn’t match, where maybe I should think about a sleeker look. And had I considered adding a pocket or two?

We are grownups with drawers full of pencil stubs. We have been writing a long time. We can handle criticism.

It made me happy to have my flaws pointed out. There are notes jotted all over my essay. I know how to make it great now instead of spending the evening patting myself on the back for a pretty okay, but could be way better, piece of writing. And I think I returned the favor to the other writers, saying things I might have held back before.

Anyway, that’s my reflection for tonight. Nice can be overdone, except by the old man. He is perfectly nice.