"Don't be a dick." 💜 Common-sense etiquette for writers: Part 1

Inspired by the tactless words of a fellow writer

Hey, romance lover! 💜

Today’s email is the first in a two-part series about writers’ etiquette, a topic inspired by the tactless words of a fellow writer.

I just received an … interesting … reply to an email I sent out to my pre-Substack list of subscribers. The individuals on this list are all romance writers who are interested in writing stories with heart.

In the email, I: 1) apologised to my audience for not emailing in a while, 2) let them know the fun and exciting things happening in my world, and 3) informed them that I was moving the list over to Substack.

Here is just one of the exciting tidbits I shared about what’s currently happening in my life as a writer:

I finished the manuscript I've been working on for FOREVER! (It's taken me 12 years!) But not only that, it's actually on submission as we speak. Let's see if someone bites! 🤞

Now, humour me for a minute.

You’re a writer. Imagine you’ve just read that announcement from a fellow wordsmith. What would your response be? Would you reply to the email, offering congratulations? Or perhaps not say anything but cheer them on from afar? Perhaps you wouldn’t think the achievement is all that impressive, so you’d delete the email and think nothing more of it.

Any of the above responses would be perfectly acceptable in my opinion.

Well, one writer on my list didn’t feel the need to personally congratulate me or cheer me on from afar. She did, however, go out of her way to reply, though it was blatantly obvious (to me) that she was not impressed.

Much like this fella.

Photo by Cyrus Chew on Unsplash

Let’s call this writer Callie. Upon receiving Callie’s response to my email and reading her thoughts on my accomplishment, I thought for sure she’d win, hands-down, the prize for Most Arrogant Writer in Existence. And I thought she’d probably be pleased as punch with the honour of the title.

Curious as to what Callie had to say? I would be too.

Here, let me just pull it up so I can share it word-for-glorious-word.

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Hi Libby. I don't remember signing up for this. You're a book coach? And it's taken you 12 years to write a book? Just double checking that I read that correctly. Also, I would think a book coach would have more confidence than to say "hope someone bites." If you're a book coach*, wouldn't you know that it's amazing? Maybe I should be your book coach. 😆 Hope you have a wonderful day! And I hope you have some "bites." I actually finished my first draft in 7 weeks and finished the entire book in less than a year. So, I guess I don't need a book coach anymore. Looking forward to seeing how many bites I get.

Callie**

* “IF” I’m a book coach? Excuse me??

** Not her real name.

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Now, at this point, I will admit that I have since received two genuine and sincere apologies from Callie, both of which I accepted, and I now believe that there was no malice or ill intent behind her words.

So why am I sharing her email with you now?

Well, as a book coach, I feel very strongly about how writers deliver feedback to one another. I’ve heard horror stories about how careless and harsh criticisms have delivered serious blows to the confidence of some writers, and in some cases, the recipient of such feedback stops writing altogether. Luckily, I have thick skin, and her words didn’t upset me more than they shocked and angered me. I might not be able to say the same if I were a less experienced writer.

What I want to focus on here is my reaction to Callie’s words. I share the impact they had on me so that you, romance lover, will understand that a few throwaway lines to a fellow creator may well be misconstrued.

So how did I react?

Well, two lines in — “You’re a book coach? And it’s taken you 12 years to write a book? — and I was shocked.

By the fifth line — “Maybe I should be your book coach.” — I was laughing. (Was she for real?)

On the sixth line — “Have a wonderful day! And I hope you have some ‘bites’.” — I imagined slapping her in the face.

And by the time I’d read the second last line — “I guess I don’t need a book coach anymore.” — I was like, good riddance, honey!

At that point, I got up and hung out some laundry, seething and formulating my response in my head, in typical autistic fashion.

And, oh, I had a lot to say. *Rubs hands together, gleefully.*

You see, normally, I wouldn’t bother responding to such an email. Some people just aren’t worth your time, you know?

But Callie did do me the honour of reaching out and letting me know her thoughts, so I decided I’d take a moment and generously return the offer. Besides, once a teacher, always a teacher, and I considered this a teaching opportunity. Callie needed to learn a thing or two about writer’s etiquette.

Which brings us to the all-important lesson of today’s post (though any writer person with an ounce of common sense knows it already).

The number one rule of etiquette for writers is:

Don’t be a dick.

I’ll admit, though, upon hitting send on my reply to Callie, I started second-guessing myself.

Was I the one being a dick for responding to such an email?

Had I gone full autistic and read too much into it? Had my rejection sensitivity exploded, causing me to imagine tongue-in-cheek insults when there weren’t any? Was the tone of Callie’s email cheery and friendly, rather than the snide and self-important voice I’d read it in?

I mean, I honestly thought she was pissing on my achievements.

Let me know your thoughts — how would you have reacted? Would you have replied, or would you have ignored it and got on with your day?

Tune in next week for part two, where I’ll dive deeper into how Callie’s words impacted me, how I responded … and the valuable lessons Callie and I both learned.

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