Artists try to do two things:
1- They try to put out something into the world that has deep roots inside their own psyche/experience (when I say ‘deep’, it doesn't necessarily mean something that answers one of the Big Three:
Who am I?
What is the meaning of life?
What happens when we die?
While these are swell and I could spend my life talking about those, in this particular case, I mean anything that finds an echo that feels authentic, or emotional or exciting or intellectually stimulating.) ← Big ass parentheses right there.
The second thing they try to achieve is 100% out of their control. No wait, that's not right. It's maybe 80% to 90% out of their control? (Although probably more like 20% for someone like Hemingway.)
Guessed what it was yet?
2- They try to ring that same bell inside others.
And that's why it’s so dang hard to receive critiques. Take the pilot for my TV series. When I wrote this one scene in particular, I experienced the most powerful feeling of exhilaration I’ve ever had (that I can remember anyway) while writing. And another scene had me laughing internally (okay, I admit it, I laughed out loud at my own jokes too). To this day, whenever I rethink about it I just smile cuz it's so silly and fun.
So for that specific project, Part 1 = Success. I was able to touch something deep inside that echoed a powerful Truth. For me anyway. Now the most heart-wrenching thing of all things heart-wrenching happens when the Gap between Part 1 and Part 2 (how it is received) is wider than the Grand Canyon. In other words, when your readers do not AT ALL feel the same echo you felt. That’s when you start questioning yourself: “Is it because I’m a total weirdo and couldn’t be more different than all other human beings ever born? Or is it because I haven't done a good job and it’s so obscure that others who do not have my fucked up internal references can't get it?”
In a way, it’s much better when you yourself did not feel that strong of an echo and emotion in the first place. That way, the Gap is much smaller. So it’s ain’t no big surprise if others went “meh” as well. It's much easier to receive feedback on a project you're not attached to. I’d compare it with hearing someone say your kid is a little slow versus hearing a complaint about that nephew you see once a year and how he keeps eating his buggers and has no friend because he’s just a dirty little pig.
Unfortunately though, those projects never go anywhere.
So, why did I say 80% instead of 100%? After all, you can never control how people feel right?
Not entirely true. Some emotional situations are Universal.
Take Once Upon a Time in Hollywood. If you’ve seen it, I can almost guarantee that you were touched by that scene when Leo plays that “heavy” and throws the little girl he was holding hostage to the ground. His character, Rick Dalton, then receives compliments from both his director and from the eight-year-old actress. Why did it work? Why did it bring a tear to our eye?
I would argue the build-up is partly responsible. Tarantino showed us just how badly Rick Dalton took to becoming a has-been and how he was full of self-hatred. The previous scene in the trailer showed that plenty. So he wanted to do good work. On top of all that, earlier in the movie, the little girl was depicted as super smart and serious about her craft, which even though she’s only eight, added weight to her comment. (Here I’m not sure if maybe Tarantino saw that as ironic? I’d disagree, it wasn't really.)
Why does all of that work? Well, because it's a pretty Universal Feeling. We've all been there: we’ve all heard that self-hating voice, we've all doubted our skills, we've all had high expectations for our selves, and we've all craved for validation and recognition. In a way, storytelling is all about that—taking Universal Truths and finding ways to turn those abstract concepts into the most concrete examples you can come up with so that the viewer/reader will recognize themselves and their mirror neurones will go ding ding ding.
When that doesn't happen, it's a real heartbreak. A missed connection.
Good stuff, man