Tune out your self-doubt—Fiction Therapy
By Jim Dempsey | May 14, 2019 |
Best-selling thriller writer, Ian Rankin, has been writing professionally since the mid-1980s. He’s written close to 30 novels. He pretty much writes a book a year. But, at a certain point in his drafting process, usually somewhere at the end of the first month, he is struck by, what he calls, ‘the fear.’ He is convinced that all the work he’s done in that month has been a waste of time, that this new book won’t be any good.
When he mentions this to his wife, she usually asks, ‘Are you on page 65?’ He thinks about it, and yes, he is. It’s then he realizes that he goes through this phase with every novel, always at the same point. Always around page 65.
Many writers, if not all, experience this kind of doubt about their work at some stage. And, since writing is such a lonely profession, they don’t all have someone with whom they can share their frustrations.
I feel privileged, in my work as an editor, that authors confide their fears in me. Sometimes they just need someone who can give them feedback, someone with experience who can reassure them that their work is worth pursuing after all and they’re not wasting their time. Someone who can help them get past their page 65.
But not everyone has the time, the inclination, or, let’s face it, the money to seek reassurance from an editor. That doesn’t mean you have to suffer alone. Below are some techniques that can help authors deal with that inner critic and get back to writing.
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Choose which thoughts you listen to
It’s your mind’s job to keep questioning your actions. That worked well when we lived in caves. ‘Don’t go round that corner,’ the mind would say, ‘you’ll get your head chewed off by a saber-toothed tiger.’
Even now, with no more saber-toothed tigers around, your mind continues to look out for you. It has your best interests at heart, but its suggestions aren’t always helpful. ‘Hmm,’ it might say, ‘are you sure you really want write this story? I mean,’ it’ll ask, ‘do you really think anybody will ever read this?’
You cannot stop your mind from doing its job. You cannot control the questions and criticism it throws at you. In short, you cannot control your thoughts, you cannot stop them from entering your mind. But you can decide which thoughts deserve your attention or not.
When your mind raises these doubts, that your writing is terrible, that no one will be interested in this story or that you should give up and find a job where you don’t even have to write your name, try to recognize this thought as nothing more than that, a thought. It’s just words. It’s just your mind doing its job.
Ask yourself if this is a helpful thought. If it’s not helpful, you can decide not to take this thought seriously and move on to the next thought. Don’t worry, there’ll be another one along again very soon. Your mind likes to keep busy.
Novelist Dani Shapiro put it like this in an interview with Salon.com: ‘It helps to think of that inner censor as a beloved but annoying friend who has moved in for the duration. That friend is never going away. So you make peace with your inner censor. You say some version of, thanks very much for sharing, and then move on, past that censoring voice, and into your work.’
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Give your critical thoughts a name
There are times though, when your mind takes its job a little too seriously. It won’t shut up, and those thoughts become difficult to ignore. When that happens, it helps to take a little distance from them, and one way to do that is to give these unhelpful thoughts a name.
For example, when Ian Rankin gets to the stage where he starts to doubt his story, he could say, ‘Oh, here are the Page 65 Thoughts again. Hi, Page 65 Thoughts. You’ve arrived early this year. Maybe you can leave early too. Goodbye.’
You could also treat these thoughts like a character, and give them a voice. The whiny Inner Critic, for example, who always shows up at the most inappropriate moment. Try to hear those thoughts in the voice of the character. A little too high-pitched perhaps, a bit nasal maybe, annoying.
Or you could imagine these thoughts as a story. The Tale of Self Doubt, where the basic premise appears engaging but becomes repetitive and tiresome after a while. It’s the kind of daytime movie that might first attract your attention as you flick through the TV channels, but only ends up a disappointment. Try another channel.
Giving these thoughts a name helps you to become aware of how often they occur and how much they distract you from your writing. Just recognizing your self-doubt will help you regain your focus.
Feel free to pick your own name for your critical thoughts, you’re a writer after all (regardless of what your mind says).
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Realize how important writing is to you
Sometimes, just sometimes, your mind is right. Your writing is bad. There will be days when you will write badly, very badly. You might even write a whole book that’s terrible.
But that shouldn’t stop you from writing.
Think about why you write, why it’s important to you, and try to remember these reasons when your mind is being overly critical, telling you that you’ll fail, that you’ll be rejected.
Don’t let those thoughts of failure stop you. You don’t give up on love just because you might get hurt some time. And you shouldn’t give up on something you love. Keep writing. It takes a lot of work, and some of it might be terrible, but if you stop, no one will ever get a chance to see the good stuff.
When are the moments in your writing when your inner critic appears? How do you keep those thoughts at bay? What makes you keep writing even when you have all this self-doubt?
Jim Dempsey (he/him) is a book editor who specializes in detailed analysis and editing of novel manuscripts through his company, Novel Gazing. He has worked as an editor for more than 20 years. He has a master’s degree in creative writing and is a professional member of the Chartered Institute of Editing and Proofreading and is a trustee of the Arkbound Foundation. Jim is fascinated by the similarities between fiction and psychotherapy, since both investigate the human condition, the things that make us uniquely human. He explores this at The Fiction Therapist website. If you have a specific concern with your novel, send an email to jim [at] thefictiontherapist.com, or visit the website to ask for a free sample edit. You can follow Jim on Instagram @the_fiction_therapist.
THIS!!!!
Thanks for the reminders of the things I know, but regularly forget when my mind gets started. You made me LOL quite a bit, too, so extra points!
I spent four years paralyzed by self-doubt, and was able to figure out that ultimately the decisions are not that huge of a deal. If I’d just made a decision about the story and then went back and rewrote the entire thing once I was done, I would have had the story done before I did when paralyzed by the fear of making a wrong choice.
Lately I’ve been in a pretty good place, but I’m going to remember this post when I get around page 65. :D
You’re right, Lara, we also need to remember that it’s all right to not always be perfect, that whatever you write can always be rewritten. And, 99% of the time it should be rewritten.
We also shouldn’t be too hard on ourselves as we think back to those moments of self-doubt paralysis; maybe those four years of mulling over the story is what made it better in the end.
Good to hear it’s going well now. Good luck with that page 65.
Thanks for this! I needed to read it today.
Glad it helped, Talia. I hope you prove those critical voices wrong today. And tomorrow.
I love hearing that my heroes (Ian Rankin!) have these moments. I’ve noticed that when I shift gears from one thing to another (outlining to drafting, drafting to revising) my brain does this re-action thing. I get panicky thoughts and flat moods. I just had a day of it and recognized the bugger. I’m approaching pitch-time and my brain wants to hide out in the comfort of ‘still revising’. I know now that I just need to keep moving forward and wait for the old brain to shut up. Today I feel way better, but I’m sure there’ll be a next time. Thanks for this!!
It’s always nice to know our heroes are just like us, especially when it’s someone like Ian Rankin who writes with such confidence and makes it look like it all comes so easily. Maybe, just maybe, he’s in a flat mood funk right now.
It’s also useful to remember we can’t be highly productive all day every day. Sometimes your mind is right. Sometimes it’s better to have a day of something different. But yes, sometimes the brain really does need to shut up.
Great to hear today is better. Hope it’s the start of a streak.
Doubt is a constant, hidden, companion.
When I figure out that it’s there again, I open up the Fear Journal and dump it all.
I usually realize quickly that there’s nothing new to it – and that robs it of its power.
The biggest current fear is that I’m losing it – and then I have a couple of normal days, and the brain seems to be the same one, still doing the same steps, and I can relax.
That Fear Journal is awfully boring.
A fear journal is a wonderful tool. It really helps to see how repetitive and – yes – boring your mind can be.
A great tip, Alicia. Thank you.
Jim
Jim and Alicia, yes, that phrase “mindless chatter” really nails it. The (in this case, “my”) mind just prattles along with its inane song of petty judgment. Boring it is.
When I’m on top of it, I answer back with a blithe “Yeah, right. Don’t you have someplace better to be?” But I fall victim to its spider bites now and then, because it’s energetic in its insipid way. I have to figure out how not to share my coffee…
When I eventually get to page 65 I will jump up and down and do a happy dance to celebrate the fact that I have actually gotten that far.
I like your optimism, Anna. You could have used “if” there instead of “when.” That’s the right atitude already.
Good luck with it.
Jim
I was immensely encouraged when I discovered that Agatha Christie also went through the Aaargh I Have Forgotten How To Write thing with every book. Every. Book.
I still get all aargh myself, but now I know it doesn’t have to stop you having a long and flourishing career, so I just let the melodrama flow for a while (my poor long-suffering husband) and then plod on.
I do seem to suffer recurring bouts, but perhaps that’s due to the relatively long time it takes me to produce a book.
That’s 60+ books Dame Agatha struggled with, and she still kept going. It would be interesting to know how she got through it. I guess, with so many books, that she didn’t do much ‘plodding’ though, but it sounds like you’ve got a technique that works perfectly for you.
I don’t know how much her husband suffered, but he did end up with a knighthood. :)
I wish you all the very best for your long and flourishing career.
Thanks,
Jim
At that point, I always introduce a man with a gun.
An excellent idea, but, as Chekhov would say, you better use that gun. Or was it John Wayne who said that first?
Love this post as sadly, self-doubt is a constant challenge for me as I write my first novel. I usually go for a run when it hits hard to let my imagination flow and remind myself how much I love writing.