Crippling Self-Doubt and the Writer

An occupational hazard

To be a writer is to be afflicted by crippling self-doubt. It takes only a Google search of “crippling self-doubt” to confirm this. It’s not surprising. If a writer writes for an audience, they bring their works out into the daylight.

If they’re showing their friends what they’ve written, they’re afraid of being judged. Because friends often skip over the Facebook post, they’re never quite sure if they’ve been read. Because friends are often afraid to hurt someone’s feelings, they will be wary of compliments.

If the writer submits for publication, they’re afraid of being rejected — and they will often be rejected, because their work is competing against others’ writing.

What to do about self-doubt

There are several articles on the Internet about how to deal with self-doubt. See here and here for examples. I don’t want to hash over these excellent articles, so I’ll write from my experiences and hope the advice is helpful.

Keep writing. Being a writer is a calling, even if not a penny is made on it. Write your way through the fear.
Keep improving, especially if the goal is to become published. Relish the feeling of improving. Take all criticism as room to improve.
Find support. Whether this be a Facebook group or your friends or spouse, find someone to express your frustrations to.
Stop negative self-talk. There are apps on iOS and Android that teach a journaling method that contradicts negative self-talk with realistic thoughts.
Remind yourself why you’re writing. Reconnect with the joy.

A takeaway

Writers aren’t the only ones with self-doubt; it crops up when we have to speak publicly, at our jobs, and any place where we step outside our comfort zones. What are your solutions for self-doubt?

Day 31 Lenten Meditation : Support

One of the most enduring traits of humanity is its ability to support each other during times of crisis. Just some of the supports I have seen during shelter-in-place are the following:

Education units (pre-K through higher education) quickly mobilizing to online without a break, and with sensitivity to students’ needs
Textbook publishers allowing free access to online textbooks over the duration of the sheltering
Internet Archive offering free access to their library
Local Facebook groups helping each other meet needs
Outreach by the Instagram cat community reminding us to take care of ourselves (I suppose there are others, but I tune into the cat community)
Countless others
Harbor Freight’s donations of N95 masks and face shields to hospitals
People on social media reaching out to the more vulnerable
And so many I’m not aware of

I’m not counting the millions of businesses, small and large, who are adapting their businesses to face our current reality — online and curbside. The businesses who are adapting their production to fit our current needs. (I’m only not counting them because there’s a profit motive).

The way humanity gets through these calamities — pandemic, natural disaster, war — is through supporting each other. We much each be supported, and we must each provide support.

One step forward — Kindle Scout

I have taken an intermediary step between agents and self-publishing for one of my books — I have submitted my book details to Kindle Scout, and this is what should happen:

In 1-2 days, I should hear whether they’ve approved the book for eligibility
Then they submit it to a “campaign” where I see how many upvotes I get.
At the end, if the book gets enough votes, it gets published.

The best book cover free editing software can buy.

Why this process? Because it’s vetted. Self-publishing otherwise seems like throwing the book on the sea and hoping it floats. If it comes to that, I don’t know if I can do it. I don’t dream of being a NYT bestselling author. I dream of someone reading my book and liking it.

Face it, though, I’m afraid of rejection again. I’m confident that I write well, but wonder if my ideas are publishable or whether I can stand up to a popular vote. I’ve never been popular, after all.

The book may be too gentle for people who read things like “The Meth Chronicles” and vampire stories. I’m a flower child at heart. I believe in the Peaceable Kingdom and the strength of small groups to change the world. I love people in both the general and specific sense.

I’m not going to beg you to support me on Kindle Scout if I get that far. But I want you to think about it, because it’s my dream. And please, please, any support you can give me (preferably something that reaches my eyes or ears) would make me feel better about the process.

The Dance

I have a friend I’ve never met. I suspect he has been involved in creative/artistic pursuits — acting, modeling, beatboxing, probably singing — since he was born. (If you’re reading this, you know who you are). I suspect he grew up in a family that supported creativity. One of the things I’ve observed about him is how easily he can gather support to help him develop his craft further, to counter the annoying people who would prefer he do something practical.

Watching him and his friend jam on Facebook night before last, I realized that I felt like I literally sat in that jam session, even though I didn’t speak a word of Polish. It wasn’t just watching my friend twiddle with electronic equipment while his friend strummed; it wasn’t just hearing how the sound coalesced into a mood, into a journey — although that was part of it. It was about feeling the joy that emanated from those two musicians, and returning the joy back.

That feeling is what creatives live for — creating for oneself is okay, but creating for community far surpasses that.

This symbiotic relationship of artist and audience has existed since the beginning of time. The Balinese gamelan, an orchestra of bells and gongs, has cultural rules as to how the orchestra is set up — in the village square, on the ground, at the same level as the audience. This reflects that relationship between musician and audience, and the belief that creativity doesn’t happen without audience involvement.

Writers have some disadvantage in finding that support system. We write secretively, and when we tell our friends about what we’re writing, it comes off as “I’m writing — uhh, THINGIE…” Most locales have writers’ groups, but a newcomer walks into the group’s already established relationships and often feels lost in the outskirts. Writers depend on getting published to be heard, and publishing a book is nothing like standing in the town square and playing. Some authors excel at Twitter exchanges, some blogs (I would recommend John Scalzi). Some, like me, are just beginning to explore this.

The exchange between creator and audience, at its best, feels like a dance. The creator invites us to the dance, making us feel welcome to shed a little of our stiffness. Then we dance, not always in a physical sense, but we feel a part of what’s being created. It feels a little like this —

I shed my clothes to dance in light
again, spinning wildly into sky —
my hand reaches out to touch your face
and touches heat, and touches light —
almost close enough to touch,
almost close enough to feel —
my hand reaches out to touch your face —
I touch your hand, and we are close enough.

Thanks for listening to me. Let’s dance.