Success brings in its wake not only an excess of praise to inflate the pride of its willing recipient but also ample enough criticism to deflate the vanity of the ballooning ego. That is, if either is taken seriously. Some listen to one side or the other, according to their own opinion of themselves, while others ignore both sides. After all, praise can quickly turn to condemnation. I recently heard a man ask a woman, "Do you hate me?" She replied, "I don't love you enough to hate you."
I have attracted a great deal of criticism as an author. Some of it is mean-minded. Some of it is what is called "constructive criticism." I have found in none of it any cogent theory. I have many back seat drivers. I am advised to step up, to step down, to step sideways; if I did everything I was told, I would have no dance at all. I really believe the best policy is to keep moving forward, to be relatively quiet about criticism, to take all the critics along who want to come along for the ride, and to let the critics think, if they wish, that they have contributed to the growing success of a great author.
There are times, however, especially when one is being pursued by the critical magpies, harpies, and parrots of the literary world, that an author might lose his temper and deign to indignantly stomp his foot down and issue a proclamation of his critical independence. And he does so even after being informed that it is bad for business to "stoop to critics." I did that once: you shall find below an irate declaration issued from the very height of my arrogance.
When reading my rebellious declaration, please keep in mind that my outburst comes from my love for all of my readers. Otherwise I would not bother. I know the good and bad things readers say about me even when they don't say it out loud. I've said it all myself to myself. I am my own worst critic. Also please keep in mind that I have "one foot in the grave." I am going to say what I want to say and in the manner I want to say it, regardless of the consequences. I believe I am entitled to a modicum of liberty of thought and expression now that the ultimate consequence is nigh. That is not to say they the old dog is not learning some new tricks from the greatest literary masters that ever lived.
My Outrageous Outburst in Response to Being Harried by Critical Harpies, Magpies and Parrots:
Why should I lie and eat humble pie when I can have my full say in a brilliant and sophisticated essay? Anything else, as far as I am concerned, is nothing but hypocrisy, so I shall have my way and to mine own self be true.
No, I will not bow to false authority's command to feign humility and save its lying face when truth fails it as usual!
Call me arrogant if you will, and I'll give your arrogance right back to you, for I'd rather be dead than under professors of slavery who, in their pretentious stupidity, do not realize they are spitting in the wind when their own spit hits them in the face!
Yes, I will have my say and even more assuredly so when I am advised to speak humbly, to sing somebody else's song, and therefore be a liar and a cheat. And I shall have no regrets when my voice sails over the heads of the self-appointed saviors of my free spirit who would like nothing more than to smother it under their stiffling basket of conformity. Indeed, I shall say to each of them:
"Fie on you, you imbecile! Get thee back to your own calling at the helm of your ship of fools! For sticks and stones may break my bones, but you will find no safe or fair harbor in my quarters!"
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