Impostor Syndrome
Impostor syndrome—or as I like to call it, the "what the hell am I trying to do" syndrome—is something I think we all face.
I recently talked with Caitlin Sangster, author of Last Star Burning about this, and she said basically what I've heard every other author say. In essence, the idea is "what am I doing here?"
Anecdotally (and I don't know if this is true), George R.R. Martin and Stephen King were on a writing panel together, and someone asked if either of them felt like they were out-of-place as writers—whether they had impostor syndrome. Martin said that of course he felt that way. King, on the other hand—with his classic New England humility—said simply "No."
So here we have two examples of (VERY) successful writers, each with different feelings about their place in the literary world. Why is that? I have a theory.
Ever since we were kids, we've been reading (well, most of us). We see names on the spine of a book, and we imagine what it would be like to meet one of these people. We idolize these authors. We look up to them, and many of them inspire in us the drive to write. I know that when I was a kid, I looked up to a lot of authors like they were gods.
And it's precisely because of this mindset that ultimately makes us self-conscious about our writing and feel out-of-place when we do literary things. When I go to conferences, I look around at all the people that have published work, and I look at my own books, none of which are published, and I have to think "well, it's because I'm no good as a writer." I get the impostor syndrome by proxy. I have a few good friends that are writers—and fairly popular ones—and even with them, I hold them in much higher esteem than I hold myself, because they have accomplished this goal of mine that I feel I can only dream of.
In short, my mind jumps to the conclusion that their name is on the cover of a book. Mine isn't, and therefore will never be. It doesn't matter that I haven't written fiction as long. It simply feels like I will never, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever get there.
But this is a fallacy. We're projecting two untruths onto ourselves. Number one is that we're defining our own success based on what other people have done/are doing. The second is that we're projecting our current struggles into the future. Sure, we'll have struggles in the future, but they won't be our current problems. Right now, I'm struggling through my third (maybe fourth. I lose track...) revision of my book. I'm about a third of the way through. I work on it every damn day. Meanwhile, conferences come closer, and I'm in no way ready. My mind projects my current struggle with revisions forward a few months and I assume that I'll still be stuck in the same place, rather than preparing to meet with an agent (yet another huge impostor syndrome issue).
I know that for myself, I have to stop deifying authors I look up to, and start looking at things and learning from them. I have to start looking at literature and saying "I can do this."
Because we can all do it. Impostor syndrome will never go away for most people, but that doesn't mean we can't be on the cover of a book sometime.
Thanks for wreading!
Jeff
I recently talked with Caitlin Sangster, author of Last Star Burning about this, and she said basically what I've heard every other author say. In essence, the idea is "what am I doing here?"
Anecdotally (and I don't know if this is true), George R.R. Martin and Stephen King were on a writing panel together, and someone asked if either of them felt like they were out-of-place as writers—whether they had impostor syndrome. Martin said that of course he felt that way. King, on the other hand—with his classic New England humility—said simply "No."
So here we have two examples of (VERY) successful writers, each with different feelings about their place in the literary world. Why is that? I have a theory.
Ever since we were kids, we've been reading (well, most of us). We see names on the spine of a book, and we imagine what it would be like to meet one of these people. We idolize these authors. We look up to them, and many of them inspire in us the drive to write. I know that when I was a kid, I looked up to a lot of authors like they were gods.
And it's precisely because of this mindset that ultimately makes us self-conscious about our writing and feel out-of-place when we do literary things. When I go to conferences, I look around at all the people that have published work, and I look at my own books, none of which are published, and I have to think "well, it's because I'm no good as a writer." I get the impostor syndrome by proxy. I have a few good friends that are writers—and fairly popular ones—and even with them, I hold them in much higher esteem than I hold myself, because they have accomplished this goal of mine that I feel I can only dream of.
In short, my mind jumps to the conclusion that their name is on the cover of a book. Mine isn't, and therefore will never be. It doesn't matter that I haven't written fiction as long. It simply feels like I will never, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever get there.
But this is a fallacy. We're projecting two untruths onto ourselves. Number one is that we're defining our own success based on what other people have done/are doing. The second is that we're projecting our current struggles into the future. Sure, we'll have struggles in the future, but they won't be our current problems. Right now, I'm struggling through my third (maybe fourth. I lose track...) revision of my book. I'm about a third of the way through. I work on it every damn day. Meanwhile, conferences come closer, and I'm in no way ready. My mind projects my current struggle with revisions forward a few months and I assume that I'll still be stuck in the same place, rather than preparing to meet with an agent (yet another huge impostor syndrome issue).
I know that for myself, I have to stop deifying authors I look up to, and start looking at things and learning from them. I have to start looking at literature and saying "I can do this."
Because we can all do it. Impostor syndrome will never go away for most people, but that doesn't mean we can't be on the cover of a book sometime.
Thanks for wreading!
Jeff
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