Be Your Own Biggest Fan
By Anna Elliott | July 2, 2015 |
A few years back, author Joshilyn Jackson posted a story on her blog about meeting an author who was without a doubt his own biggest fan. I can’t find the post at the moment, but this author literally introduced himself with the words, “Hi, I’m award-winning author *name redacted*”. All that was missing to make it perfect, Joshilyn Jackson wrote, was for him to have said, “It’s such an honor for you to meet me.” Because she is hilarious and awesome.
My point, to be clear, is that that’s not the kind of own-biggest-fan I want to talk about today. Because honestly, I don’t think too many of us suffer from the kind of over-inflated ego of Joshilyn’s acquaintance. (And, really, who knows what kind of hidden insecurities the poor guy was trying to mask with all his posturing? I’d be willing to bet it was more than a few).
D.W. Winnicott famously wrote that, “Artists are people driven by the tension between the desire to communicate and the desire to hide.”
[pullquote] “Artists are people driven by the tension between the desire to communicate and the desire to hide.”[/pullquote]
Not to go all tortured-artist on you, because as artists go, I’m not especially tortured, I’m really not. But that state of being– that tension between those two opposite extremes of communication and hiding– is a very vulnerable place to live. In my experience, all authors struggle to some degree or another with an internal critic, a nasty little voice hissing a litany of YOUSUCKYOUSUCKYOUSUCKYOUSUCK in your ears. I personally have never written a book where that nasty little voice didn’t rear it’s ugly head (yes, I know, that’s a hideously mixed metaphor). The difference, 19 books into my career, is that that voice has to be positively screaming a NOREALLYTHISBOOKHASASERIOUSPROBLEM kind of a warning on the sliding scale of you-suck-itude for me to pay it any attention at all.
Where this is all coming from is that this past week I got an e-mail from a fan, saying that she wished she could find the courage to pursue a creative career, but doubted that she ever would. That kind of statement just makes my heart hurt. Because she didn’t say that she wished she had the talent or the passion or the discipline to pursue a creative career. No, she wished for the courage.
Make no mistake, it does take courage to write or pursue any kind of a creative career. Especially in the very beginning, because the odds are overwhelmingly likely that anything we write or produce as your first effort isn’t really going to be all that good. It’s hard to keep believing in ourselves, hard to keep silencing the nasty voices that tell us to just give up and not to bother.
But wait for a second. Pretend, just for a moment, that you’re your own best friend– or your mother or your sister or husband or brother or whatever. Pretend that you’re not you, you’re someone that you care about, coming to yourself for encouragement or advice. What would you tell yourself?
I’m guessing it wouldn’t be a variant of YOUSUCKYOUSUCKYOUSUCK.
It does take courage, and talent, and passion, and discipline and a whole host of other qualities to be a writer. But I think the component that we often miss is simple kindness— kindness and patience, both in regards to ourselves and to our stories. Next time the why-are-you-even-bothering demons start whispering, try silencing them with what you’d say if you were your own biggest fan. Tell yourself that there’s no such thing as a perfect story, but that there’s no story so imperfect that it can’t be improved. Tell yourself that you’ll get better, because as long as you keep writing, you surely will. Love your own work– love all the words and the sentences and the chapters you put down on paper. Because if I know one thing, it’s that it all starts with you: if you don’t love your writing, it’s a sure bet that no one else will.
Don’t be the writer who gives up when the inner-critic demons come to town. Those nasty voices will never go away, but that doesn’t mean you have to listen. Instead, be your own cheering section. And above all else, write on.
What about you? How do you silence your own inner critic?
Anna Elliott is an author of historical fiction and fantasy. Her first series, the Twilight of Avalon trilogy, is a retelling of the Trystan and Isolde legend. She wrote her second series, the Pride and Prejudice Chronicles, chiefly to satisfy her own curiosity about what might have happened to Elizabeth Bennet, Mr. Darcy, and all the other wonderful cast of characters after the official end of Jane Austen’s classic work. She enjoys stories about strong women, and loves exploring the multitude of ways women can find their unique strengths. Anna lives in the Washington DC area with her husband and three children.
To silence the inner critic? I write down EVERYTHING it has to say, and keep a special journal for its words.
Once IC knows I’m listening, and that I paid attention, it goes away. It just wants a little love, and to know that I appreciate it.
Occasionally, it is right.
I love the mind split – we have such nice conversations. It used to cause me serious pause, but now it just reminds me that I have choices, and that I need to consider ALL of them.
It wants to be HEARD. It doesn’t need to be OBEYED.
What a great strategy, Alicia!
Agh. Well, I silence it by sending a recently rejected piece out somewhere else. It’s surprising how powerful that action is. It even worked this week, when I felt more gutted than I think I’ve ever felt, with 14 months of continual rejections, three closely in a row for pieces I realise I had put a bit too much hope into. I spent 24 hours feeling scared that THIS TIME it was too much, I didn’t have thick enough skin, that this gig is a bloody mimdf*%# that I need to get past. It was starting to solidify harder than it ever has before. And yet 24 hours later, one of my other personalities got tired and sent one of those rejected pieces out again. So I guess I’m still going
Good for you for keeping the faith and keeping on, Sue! Tell yourself that you’re very strong.
Love it! Sometimes it’s difficult to silence the inner critic. I push on and hope tomorrow will be when she quiets. It usually works, too. Just when I’m feeling my lowest a member of the writing community says something so sweet and encouraging that it erases all negativity from my mind. As such, I always try to do to same for others. It takes a village.
It does take a village! That’s great that you’ve found such a supportive one. :-)
Great advice. I went to a panel of well known, very successful writers at a book fair a few years back and to my shock they all said at times they felt like frauds, thought their work sucked, and wondered how they’d made it so far. What a revelation! Whenever the inner demons of insecurity threaten, I think back to that moment. It’s not just me and those were hugely successful writers! So write on!
Yes, exactly, Ellen– no one is immune, no matter how successful. Just knowing that helps keep the inner demons if insecurity at bay.
Anna,
I love your definition of artists as “…driven by the tension between the desire to communicate and the desire to hide.” I was in a bar once where the band invited this kid to come up and play blues harmonica. When they finally coaxed him up on stage, he sat on a chair with his back to the room. That was the only way he could play, he said. (He rocked the place). Your post today reminded me of him. And of me. I know that feeling well. It’s good to hear that others do, too. Thanks!!
I love that quote, too– and what a perfect illustration that is!
The inner critic is defeated by passion. I just can’t quit. Writing feeds my soul and is my joy in getting out of bed in the morning. Doubt can’t hold a candle. Do I doubt? Of course. Do I despair? Of course. Do I think my words/story/plot/pacing/ideas/butt/thighs suck? ALL. THE. TIME. But I can’t quit…..that would kill me. So, I write. And I have others read my words. I trust them to give me the proper perspective. And I joy in the words once again.
A big yes to that for sure. Passion is the best antidote– and the best sign that we’re meant to be writing, that we’re on the right track, even if it’s a bumpy one.
This sort of feels like the universe is piling on today, Anna. Right before I came over to read your post, I was sorting out my email. Someone I don’t know had reblogged an old post of mine, from March of ’13. The post is called Keeping the Faith (In Spite of All Contrary Evidence). I reread it. It was like a pep-talk from my former self (which I need today).
In the post I wrote: “Like many writers, I both love and hate my own work. I know I will never be singled out as a poetic or masterful wordsmith. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not without confidence. I will always strive to be a better writer. I love my characters and my story. I feel good about my world-building and characterization. I aspire to be an improved wordsmith and a great storyteller. And I’m persistent.
I’ve experienced my share of self-doubt…If you asked me when I last felt insecure about my abilities as a writer, I’d probably ask you what time it was, so I could tell you in hours rather than days or weeks. I’ve lain awake in despair, trying to convince myself I should shelve the trilogy and move on. But I can’t do it. I can’t because I still believe in my story. I know in time the story will find its place in the world.”
And here you are, supplying the universe’s coup de grace to my current self-doubt. Yes, there’s love and loathing. But I honestly believe love is the stronger force of the two. Choosing between them is a no-brainer. So enough already, Universe! I got it. (And thanks, Component Force of the Universe Anna!)
Oh Vaughn– everything you wrote in your blog post is true. But then you already know that. :-) We all need to be reminded and re-reminded of all of it, though. That’s the toughie with the inner critic’s voice– it can be kept at bay, but never entirely erased. Which is maybe a good thing, because it makes us strive to be better. We MUST view our work with a critical eye if we’re going to improve. But still. Yes, love triumphs. Happy to have been a Component Force of the Universe today. :-)
Kindness. What a great way to put it. Cheering ourselves on is asking a lot, it feels pumped up and artificial. Treating ourselves kindly, though, is so much easier to do. Thanks.
That’s one of my personal struggles, Benjamin– trying to offer myself the same kindness that I would instinctively/automatically offer to others. Sometimes it comes much less naturally to be kind to ourselves!
Insightful and wonderful advice. Thank you.
You’re very welcome!
yeah, I agree with you. You should be your own biggest fan and the strictest critic at the same time. But the balance between these two is very important. So only a few ones manage to find it.
Your own biggest fan and strictest critic– very well put!
If you’re not your own biggest fan, then who will be? This goes for anyone – not just writers. After a lifetime of battering my own self-esteem and questioning my personal motives, I finally told that inner demon to shut the hell up. The thing continues to reassert itself into my brain, but I just slap it back into place. In the past, some people have always told me I’m a good writer and / or I’m a good person, and I never truly reacted positively because I just didn’t believe them. But I realized that I’d die a lonely bitter soul, if I didn’t start liking myself more. That’s an extraordinarily refreshing sensation.
“There’s no such thing as a perfect story, but that there’s no story so imperfect that it can’t be improved.”
Love that! So true! Great post, Anna, thank you.