(Royalty free image created by Sergey Nivens; source from DepositPhotos)
Two of my greatest challenges as a writer have been consistency and growth. They are attributes that affect many other aspects of life, of course. Measures we often hold ourselves up to in assessing how we rate against others. Consistency defines our baseline. What we can be counted on to provide or achieve. Growth, on the other hand, comes from the expectation that we should strive to be more than we already are. Both are noble attributes when self-imposed, and can be destructive when assumed mandatory or measured against perceived expectations. Both are cranial muscles that need to be exercised to remain fresh and ready to function.
Consistency for me, well, hasn't been. I would like to believe that, after four years of creative writing, I would have a reliable foundation to create from, but that's not always true. There are days when I just can't wrap my head around what I want or need to write about. Writer's block, some would call it. I address that by either reaching for some other writing I'd conceptualized, or even started, who's content or subject matter isn't aligned with my problem child. Other times I'll put aside writing all together, hoping that when I come back to it the roadblock will have been cast aside. A run or bike ride often helps.
This approach has resolved most of my issues, but there have been a couple of times that I just can't get back in the saddle. Not with a particular writing, but with any writing. This is most unnerving when there is a deadline or commitment in play. My last-ditch effort here has been to listen to or read other people's works. Diving into other writings has managed to cast a spell over my brain freeze and gently nudge it aside, allowing shafts of light to flicker on my frozen brain and take baby steps towards recovery.
My undesirable option has been to wait until the last minute and, under severe duress, churn out something. It's never very good, and often fraught with poor sentence structure resulting from growing up in a household where English was a second language. I try to avoid this at all costs, for the depression I feel afterwards from producing subpar work sticks with me for some time.
All of these angels and demons rattling in my brain pop out when I'm asked to critique and edit other people's work. I don't want to believe that the freak show going on in my skull is how others deal with writing. As an educator, I know to park those thoughts when grading student's assignments. But I can only wonder when I read what other adults consider submittable work.
I run into such examples when I'm curating for the #DreemPort site. It's a wonderful communal space that enables people to be financially rewarded simply for submitting content. This encourages people from all backgrounds and walks of life to engage, but there's a catch. Before you can submit a post for consideration, you have to curate five randomly selected posts from others. Each must be read, given an accept or reject vote, and then ranked from best to worst. Exceptional posts can be acknowledged with a star, and specific feedback can be provided to each as desired.
The posts are created on other platforms. Some are random topics, which I've found to be better written. Others are thematic compositions in reaction to a prompt, such as "write about depression" or "what's your favorite food". Humanistic topics that can be relatable to the many. These are not written as well, with some sounding like what a student might scrawl onto a sheet of paper before walking into class, professing it to be homework. I've only rejected one post for this, and it was a well-deserved rejection.
The strength of DreemPort lies in providing a diverse, global platform for receiving feedback, and the way it incentivizes people to remain engaged through financial rewards. The amounts are minuscule, but that doesn't matter. Just knowing that rewards are there can often be enough to remain engaged, and if your post winds up in the top five that day, extra rewards are granted. For some of the countries contributors live in, the amounts provide meaningful contributions to daily life.
I've watched the progression of certain contributors over time. That feels good. I've also noticed that critiques about style or substance are almost nonexistent. That doesn't surprise me, given DreemPort’s communal nature. The best measure I get for how well my post connects with others is in the number of upvotes I receive, aside from the aggregate ranking.
A few months back, a group I'm very active in, #CreativeWorkHour, did a joint effort with DreemPort. The task was to develop a post over a four week period, with incremental posts that reflected outline, progress and difficulties. The implication was that it would have more depth and insight than the typical post. Some people in the community who favor quantity over quality struggled with the thought of investing so much time into one writing. Others saw it for its intent: a means of developing writing skills.
The final submittals were quite a step above the typical post. There were participants whose work has clearly benefited from this longer assignment, as seen in the quality of their subsequent posts. They achieved the intended result: growth, and an elevated consistency. Or maybe just a consistency with less weak spots in it. Either way, my wish is that their confidence and revenue streams have grown as well. For that's the value of communal writing spaces. As a mentor and tutor, it's the reward of seeing a lightbulb go off over just one person's head that illuminates new possibilities.
As for me, writing this post took some time, in part because as I wrote it I recognized I was talking to two different topics. That’s something I’ve gotten better at recognizing, thanks to meaningful feedback from other writers. That’s strengthened my consistency, while fertilizing my growth. A win-win.
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