How to Beat Imposter Syndrome.

How do you beat Imposter Syndrome?

 

Ever feel like you’re not good enough as a writer, and worse, that perhaps you’ll never be good enough?

Almost every writer I know has had Imposter Syndrome: the depressing, anxiety-inducing feeling that I’m going to refer to as I.S. from here on out.

(I strongly suspect those who claim to have never experienced I.S. are lying, by the way.)

There is, unfortunately, no hard-and-fast cure. But there are some tricks to help alleviate it. They’re not easy, but they are worth putting energy into… because as unpleasant as I.S. is, the good news? It’s not permanent.

 

Stop comparing.

This is where you read someone else’s work, a bestseller or prize winner (or both), and then you gnash your teeth, looking at your current manuscript. You already weren’t in the best place with it, but reading this? This makes you want to put a sledgehammer through your laptop and run screaming into the woods to become a hermit.

(Imposter syndrome can be a bit dramatic, I’ve noticed.)

Solution: Remind yourself to stop comparing someone else’s highlight trailer to your blooper reel. You don’t know what they went through to get to the piece you’re reading, and what’s more, it really doesn’t matter. Your path is going to be different than any other writer’s. You won’t get to where you want to go if you keep staring at where other people already are. (Write this down and keep it somewhere visible if it helps. Use it as an affirmation. Snap a rubber band on your wrist if that works for you, every time you berate your work in light of someone else’s.)

 

Set reasonable goals.

The main reason I see writers wrestle with Imposter Syndrome is the internal goals they set.

It’s never “I’m going to write a chapter this week.” It’s “I’m going to WRITE TEN CHAPTERS BY TOMORROW MORNING.”

Or they’ll set financial goals of making six figures a year – even if they’ve only been writing for one or two. (I blame some coaches and groups for this expectation, but some of it is simply internalized.)

Then, they conflate their inability to meet an unreasonable goal with the “fact” that they are, in fact, Imposters. They “should” be able to do these things! They have to be able to do these things! Otherwise, they’ll never make enough money/be a “success”/get respect/quit their day job.

This creates a vicious downward spiral of despair and desperation. They feel like failures because they set themselves up.

Solution: Set. Smaller. Goals.

Like, tiny.

Also, don’t do the thing where you say you’re only setting a tiny goal, but then in the dark recesses of your mind, you still set the big one. I have accountability clients (you know who you are, sweeties, and I say this with love) that will tell me “of course, I’ll just write 1000 words” and then talk to me the following week, depressed, saying that they’d only gotten 860… but really, they’d wanted to get “a lot more” done. When I press them about what they’d really wanted, they then say “I wanted to write 6000!”

What you’re trying to do is train your brain to expect success, not “failure.” You want your brain to trust that you’re going to do what you say you’ll do, even if it seems “ridiculously small.” The goal here isn’t the word count (yet.) It’s the momentum. It’s the follow through. You want to develop muscle memory… and then, you want to build those muscles.

 

Celebrate victories.

I have noticed that writers with I.S. tend to minimize the positives, focusing on the lack rather than the progress. They are looking at the world through crap-tinted glasses. Rather than celebrating how far they’ve come, they lament how far they have to go.

I will never encourage anyone to be toxically positive. Sometimes, life just sucks, your writing makes you want to pull your hair out, and that’s just the way it is. Feel what you’re feeling, and respect that.

But you can’t stay there. Not if you want to survive in publishing, and certainly not if you want to beat I.S.

Solution: Have a feel-good file.

This can be a bunch of good reviews, or good critiques, or just writing that you really liked. Things that make you feel proud. When you find yourself in a mire of desolation, bring this out to remind yourself that, as my best friend Rina says, “All is not crap.”

 

Support network.

(You knew I was going to bring this up, right?)

I.S. gets worse in a vaccuum, I’ve noticed. It starts small and picks up speed as you get closer to something: finishing a mansucript, getting ready to query, getting ready to send it off to an editor, getting ready to publish. In worst cases, it prevents you from crossing the finish line, whatever that looks like.

Solution: support network!

Again – we’ve all been there. Your network will either help you cry into your proverbial beer and then tuck you in, or they’ll remind you of the stuff that you’ve done well, what they like, what they’re proud of. When you’ve got a great crew, you’ll know that they’re not just saying things to make you feel better — if something isn’t working, you can trust that they’ll tell you. You may not be ready to hear any of it, but just having the support will help stop the spin, as it were… and get you back on track.

 

Self care.

(Ah! Another evergreen favorite!)

You know how when you’re hungry, or tired, or just feeling blegh, everything in the world seems worse?

Guess what I.S. feeds on? Yup. It takes your physical and emotional instability and uses it as a force multiplier.

Solution: get a regular self-care routine.

Make sure you’re eating, healthy if possible, regularly regardless. Drink water. Have at least a light exercise regime. Note: I’m not saying “lose weight” or any of that. There are clinical studies that prove that exercise helps your brain, which helps you write. Personally, I gritted my teeth but have to grudgingly accept that it’s worked for me. (I was so salty about this! You have no idea.) Making time to be mindful: journal, meditate, whatever floats your boat.

See the “set small goals” above. Don’t commit to doing an hour of each thing. A little goes a long way. Start with that.

 

Fake it.

I’ve mentioned before that I’m bi-polar 2 and ADHD. This includes a smattering of clinical anxiety. (Thanks, brain!) I noticed that, even after thirty-odd books, I’d hit two main patterns.

The first, during writing, was having a near-breakdown every time I hit the 70% mark on my manuscripts. I was convinced that the whole thing was utter trash, and then would call my agent and/or talk to my husband, telling them that I wouldn’t be able to turn it in because I saw that it was terrible and I’d need to rewrite the whole thing. In fact, I’d need to re-think the whole thing. Just burn it all to the foundation and start over.

And they both would tell me the same thing: Cathy, you do this every time you write.

The other pattern: I’d have a similar sinking sensation when I had to promote. Even books I loved, I’d second guess. Which meant I’d start hesitating, procrastinating on very necessary promotion.

Needless to say, this did not help matters when it came to sales. Both were the result of I.S.

Solution: Act as if.

Not only fake it, but fake it with your whole chest.

Please notice the key word here is act. You are taking action. As my mentor Naomi Dunford has said, you can’t eliminate fear… but you can starve it. Because fear feeds on inaction. It wants you to freeze, to turn back, to second guess.

Don’t worry about doing it “wrong” or “making things worse.” It’s a learning process, and the only way to learn is by doing. (Or, if you need “thinking” time, that’s fine – but make sure that it’s active, that it’s what you’re truly doing. Be mindful. Don’t let your brain fake you out and stop you.)

 

The caveat: ABC.

There was a famous acronym: ABC = “Always Be Closing.” It was meant for sales.

I’ve got a variation on this that is even more important.

ALWAYS. BE. CAREFUL.

There’s a big difference between, say, I.S. and clinical depression. Also, if you are neuroatypical – autistic, ADHD, any number of ways that vary from what is generally recognized as “typical” behavior – then there are pitfalls you need to be aware of, and steps you need to take to stay safe.

I’m not a medical professional in any way, shape, or form. I’m just speaking from experience. I.S. is something anyone can feel. Chronic depression, clinical anxiety, the pendulum swings and drops of mania… those take professionals to deal with. If you suspect you might have anything more serious than I.S., please, please make sure your support network includes some kind of mental help. It’s worth it.

Moving to twice a month.

I’m about to be slammed with a few writing deadlines of my own, and much as I love this newsletter, I can’t seem to rein it in! I keep thinking of more things to tell you… which means more writing… which means more time.

So with that in mind, I’m moving to once every other week rather than weekly, at least for a while.

In the meantime, if you think of any topics you’d like covered, or if you have any questions, please reach out! I ‘d love to hear from you. Or want to work 1:1 with me? Click here.