Dear Reader,
My drafts have filled my notebook and my desire to publish has reached a boiling point, but none meet my expectations for quality. Each has substance, but they all need refinement and editorial work. Despite my best intentions, every attempt at revision creates conflict between my authentic voice and my polished tone, and it seems impossible to make changes without subtracting from the passion that drives me. My frustration is building, and as my patience wears thin a part of me demands a path forward. Perhaps the question to consider is: what spurs me to refine my work in the first place?
Considering this points towards an answer. While it’s true that my original work holds my rawest truth, my objective is more than speaking without filtration. My goal is to connect with others, share meaningful experiences, and find ideas worthy of discussion. I hope to discover novel ways of being, open doors we aren’t aware of yet, and understand the core of the human condition. This path is difficult for both reader and writer, so polish before publication is mutually beneficial. I believe an audience is something to be cherished, and there is a certain respect that must be paid. Readers deserve a carefully crafted piece with refinement and finesse, and placing the burden of editorial on you to preserve my original voice would be distasteful in my view. It amounts to little more than personal vanity at the cost of the many. It’s a privilege to have your time, and I owe you something refined.
Contemplation of this position yields a simple and obvious truth: I must find a way to refine my work without diluting my message or altering my voice. I cannot accept the dichotomy between quality and authenticity, and I shall seek ways to have both. That is to say, the tradeoff need not be intractable. I suspect this skill is a necessary step on the path to success, and balance must be possible. This ambition leads to a practical solution with three parts: a promise, a technique, and a decision. Let’s take them in order.
First. My promise to you, dear reader, is as follows: I hope to provide you with something effortless to follow and enjoyable to read. I wish to bear fruit both sweet and sour, but never toxic, tasteless, or unripe. I seek to touch your heart and fill your mind, yet be gentle and tender to your eyes and ears. I believe creatures such as us thrive in humility and curiosity, but suffer in the noise of miscommunication and disparagement, meaning the onus is on me to do the heavy lifting before revealing my work. That is my intention, and I wish to be an honourable man.
Second. My technique, which still needs polish, stems from a willingness to find areas of growth instead of merely searching for errors. There exists a fine line between critique and criticism, and choosing to focus on making improvements before fixing errors will help me greatly. When my mind goes to worries and mistake hunting, it’s best to step away and try again later. My conscious intention must be patience and authenticity, never premature publication or perfection. Delay will be my tool of choice, and inaction will be my virtue. I believe this approach will balance my voice with the quality all readers deserve, and although it’s an arduous task, one which may take a lifetime to master, such is the case for many worthwhile pursuits.
Third. My decision concerns my faith in our bond. As reader and writer, we are bound together by monologue with little opportunity for discussion or clarification, particularly if you survive me. This presents many challenges for communication; however, it also creates an opportunity to deepen our shared humanity. I have decided to put faith in my ability to express myself, your capacity to comprehend my meaning, and our common willingness to relate across great distances. I find liberty in proceeding under the assumption that perfection is unnecessary for effective communication, and it creates more room for both of us: a space for me to express my creativity and a place for you to explore new perspectives. I will not allow perfection to become my jailer, and I will not deny you the opportunity to form your own opinion.
I have more to say, but that’s enough for now. I will stand by my promise, continue to refine my technique, and commit to my decision. My work will flourish in due time, and when that happens, we can continue our conversation. Until then, take care.
Warmly,
Jack Bradshaw.