Curry Zawa Kaoru’s Creative Counseling - “I feel embarrassed whenever people mention my past works.” When people compliment you, just accept the praise.
Article by Curry Zawa Kaoru
I feel embarrassed whenever people mention my past works
Unfortunately, embarrassment is practically part and parcel of being a creator. The minute you decide to translate your fantasies into text or art and show it to others is when you bid farewell to normie life and set foot on a path that you’ll later look back on, lamenting, “Mine has been a life of much shame,” much like a certain tortured novelist.
As any author or artist can attest, past works often elicit feelings of embarrassment or discomfort to some degree. Even prolific authors have been known to say they’d rather “set those books on fire, even if it means burning the house down with it” in response to fans’ adoring comments regarding their debut works. Perhaps even Clamp would react similarly if someone were to approach them and wax lyrical about how they’ve been a fan of their work ever since their Dream Comic days.
Consider this, though: isn’t the act of creating something, which is more or less similar to exposing yourself in public, inherently cringeworthy? To people who don’t share their fantasies or imaginary worlds with others, let alone the general public, people like us who willingly put them into tangible form for others to see must be out of our minds.
Having continued this “eccentric” behavior for years, cringing about your past works is like saying you’re embarrassed about having exposed your prepubescent privates (i.e., your juvenilia) to the public while continuing to do the same thing years after your debut. What I’m trying to say is, it’s way too late to regret that now, and besides, that’s not what you should be embarrassed about.
Feeling embarrassed is a sign that you’ve grown
Being mortified about the things you said or did when you were younger isn’t a feeling unique to creators. However, it’s important to remember that you (probably) didn’t write that NSFW vampire fanfic as a joke; like many creators, you put a lot of thought and effort into your work and, as you mentioned in your message, genuinely had fun working on it.
Whether you decide to view your past as one full of wonder and joy instead of one of shame and doom is up to you. Only you are capable of toggling the contrast and saturation settings on these little snapshots of your younger days. If someone can proudly declare that they spent the best part of their teens training for sporting events, why shouldn’t you be just as proud of having created something with your very own hands? Don’t be that person who erases the heyday of your youth from memory just because you can’t look past the cringy parts.
That said, denying your past and being embarrassed by how inexperienced you were are two different things. Nobody wants to hear someone in their forties brag about how they used to be feared as a high school bully or how many street fights they won. While being immobilized by mortification about the actions of your past self isn’t healthy, lacking self-awareness of how immature you once were is just as bad.
Dedicating the prime of your youth to creating fan art or fiction is nothing to be ashamed of. What’s causing you to feel embarrassment is most likely the fact that your earlier works are riddled with amateurish mistakes, such as overusing closeup shots, introducing a nonexistent (unless your dom is of the multi-limbed variety) third arm in sex scenes, writing smut that’s as bland as unseasoned chicken breast, and so on. They may also include authors’ notes that, frankly, no one asked for—your readers don’t care about your “OMG I totally messed up their body proportions (sweating profusely)” comment scribbled in the margins. Basically, you're not upset about having put these old works out there; you regret that you put them out there with all those things that could and should have been improved on before making your work public.
Technique-wise, you’re bound to get better at drawing and writing the longer you practice. However, this isn’t necessarily the case when it comes to artistic sensibilities and popularity. An author whose previous work was a smash hit might not enjoy the same level of success with their next series. Even on pixiv, you’ll sometimes see creators whose past works have more likes and saves than their current ones.
If you’re in a similar position and someone tells you they’re a fan of your earlier works, instead of thinking, “I need a neuralyzer, now,” you might think, “Maybe I shouldn’t have changed my art style after all,” and start doubting yourself.
Unfortunately, once your style has evolved, it’s hard to go back to the way you used to draw or write, which might result in you cursing the poor, innocent being who praised you, screaming, "Excuse me, are you saying that I've gotten worse over time?!" Compared to that, it’s much healthier to want others to delete their memories of your older work and focus on your current capabilities.
Embracing the cringe can motivate you to keep improving and create works that you can be proud of ten years from now (and prevent any thoughts of disposing of unsuspecting fans who dare comment on your older stuff), so honor those feelings instead of going on the offense.
When someone compliments your older work, acknowledge it with gratitude
While there’s no need to fake enthusiasm about past works that make you cringe, don’t deny how someone else might feel about them. What your work means to them is theirs to decide, and it’s not up to you to say otherwise.
If someone tells you, “This song saved my life,” and you reply, “I hate that song; I wish I’d never made it,” that would be disrespecting their feelings. In this case, it’s best to keep your embarrassment to yourself, smile through the cringe, and gracefully accept their compliment.
Besides, isn’t it wonderful to know that what you regarded as completely self-indulgent writing spoke to someone else—enough that they still think about it to this day?
At times, you might feel double the cringe at some work of yours, especially if you no longer simp for that character. Still, when someone says they enjoy your work, believe them. Your fans aren’t here to dig up your past and make fun of you; in fact, consider them a beacon of hope, here to save you from eternal mortification. Instead of plotting to sock them one so they forget about your work, thank them and walk towards the light with gratitude.
This column was made into a book!
The popular column Curry Zawa Kaoru’s Creative Counseling has been made into a book titled Otaku no Tanoshii Seisaku Ron (The Delightful Art of Otaku Creation, Bungeishunju).
In addition to fan-favorite episodes such as “Coping with fanwork taking a little too many liberties”, “When you can’t get feedback in an underdeveloped genre”, “Is 40 too old for doujin events?” and “Understanding the troubles and contradictions of killing off your favorite characters”, the book also includes brand new topics and advice!
I’m at an age when people’s comments shouldn’t faze me anymore, but whenever someone mentions my past works from the early days of my doujinshi career, I can’t help but be mortified. Like most teenagers emboldened by their youth, I happily uploaded my work to the internet without regard for the consequences, often accompanied by equally embarrassing author comments. Just thinking about it is enough to make me want to crawl into a hole and die.
Even if someone tells me that they genuinely love one of my past works—which I am thankful for—it takes everything I have in me not to throw myself at their feet and beg them to burn their physical copy, as well as delete all traces of it from their computer and memory.
While I enjoyed working on my older stuff and have nothing to be ashamed of, I can’t stop myself from cringing every time someone brings up the topic of my juvenilia. How can I have more confidence in my older works, or at the very least, stop cringing all the time?