I wrote a draft of this blog post twice before I sent it to a friend and fellow writer for some advice. It’s a dilemma I’ve rarely faced in the year since I’ve first started blogging. Usually, it would take an hour to crank out a post, edit it for clarity, and hit publish. I would feel confident, rarely second-guessing myself or my thoughts.

But now that has changed, and it’s taking every effort to combat it.

Writing can be such a personal outlet, no matter which form it takes. As a blogger, you’re initiating conversation and forming connections by allowing readers into your personal life. As a fiction writer, you’re imagining a new world, with characters you can relate to because they are often based on individual experiences.

Words are powerful, full of thought and meaning, and it’s true that the meaning you give those words is often a reflection of yourself. Perhaps that’s why writing can be as detrimental as it is rewarding. Being a writer means being vulnerable, subject to criticism and rejection. Suddenly, you feel as if you’re a prisoner to a craft you once loved: a blinking cursor or a blank page turns into a self-made cage.

Only, you have the key, right there in your hand.

With your fingers to the keyboard and a pen in your hand, you can unleash creativity and allow inspiration to grow in the place of doubt.

An insightful commenter on the previous post mentioned the works of David Leisner, a classical guitarist and composer who created the Six Golden Rules for Conquering Performance Anxiety. While these rules pertain to music, specifically, they can be altered to fit any aspect where you begin to feel the hints of self-doubt.

Below are just a few of the steps as related to writing:

1) You have practiced to the best of your ability. Trust your automatic pilot to do the rest of the work for you.
There comes a point where you begin to over-think your own writing, where that red editing pen fills in the margins of your manuscript and your screen is peppered with track changes notifications. You become so worried about crafting that perfect paragraph or sentence and choosing that just-right word that you lose your stride and second-guess your choices.

Trust yourself. Trust your ability. Put away the pen, turn off the editor in you, and let the words come naturally, as they’re meant to.

2) Do not judge what happened or what will happen.
You’re not the writer you were yesterday. And tomorrow, you may not be the writer you are today. That’s because not only are you constantly revising and editing your work, but you’re also always learning, growing, and experimenting with your craft. Toss aside your outlines, don’t worry about what should happen. Your characters are talking. Listen, and let them lead you.

3) Do not second-guess any audience member’s reaction…as your perception will probably be inaccurate. Please yourself only.
Why do you write? When you take a step back and consider it, why do you really write? Is it for the paycheck? To see your name on the bestsellers list, your book on the shelves? Or does your motivation run deeper. Do you write for others, to gauge their reaction and be showered in praise?

Or do you write for yourself? Because you have stories to share and you feel like you could burst any minute with characters and dialogue and setting and story…Because writing is second nature, like breathing, and without it, you would be stifling a part of yourself.

Not every person is going to like you, understand you. Not every reader will appreciate your words or the work that you put into your writing.

But then again, others will.

It’s impossible to fully understand what every reader thinks of your work, as every opinion is different, stemming from their own preferences, values, and experiences. What’s important is how you feel; what matters is what this writing means to you.

Write because it makes you happy. Write because you have stories to tell and experiences to share.

Write because you can’t imagine doing anything else.

Just write…Half your battle will be won.

This is probably the most honest blog post I’ve ever written about being a writer, stemming from emotion rather than reason, my own insecurities coming to the forefront this past week. It’s something I’m recently struggling with, it’s something I know other writers and creative types struggle with, and so I wanted to put it out there, raw and (mostly) unedited. This entry is cross-posted with my other site.

It’s 2:45am, and I can’t sleep, even though my dog is curled up next to me, snoring, dreaming. Words and ideas for blog posts and stories are starting to invade my thoughts, but slowly…too slowly. Suddenly, for the first time in months, I feel like I’m forcing myself to write, wonder if I even want to put these thoughts down, tired at the idea of reaching for that laptop or pen and paper.

Suddenly, for the first time in months, I’m afraid to write.

I think that writers are naturally sensitive with their work; truly, each sentence, each carefully selected word, comes from a part of yourself, and every time you put a thought down on paper, it’s like giving up a piece of yourself, leaving you more vulnerable as you show it to the world. Through your writing, you’re saying, “this is what and how I write because this is who I am,” and it’s up to the readers to love it or hate, to determine if it’s good, worthwhile, and you can’t help but wonder if that’s actually an extension of yourself.

It’s a dreary, frightening thought that I’m not convinced is 100% accurate. As a reader, too, I like to think that we’re all able to separate the words from the person; however, as a writer, that self-consciousness, awareness, fear, exists — a small seed of doubt that is planted and can grow if fed with too much criticism, fostering self-doubt.

And self-doubt is always the writer’s greatest enemy.

This past week, I’ve struggled with my writing — both blog posts and stories (I won’t even mention the novel…that’s been my Achilles’ heel for months and a topic I’ll cover soon). I’ve written posts for twenty(or)something, I’ve met with my writing group and used these challenges and prompts to come up with snippets of a story, the beginnings of what could be something. Only, I feel a bit ashamed of the posts I wrote, believing they’re not my best; and that creativity that has inspired me, motivated me these past few months? I feel like it has dried to a slow trickle. Even Annie, who is usually scrambling for attention and has so much to say, has stopped talking.

Or maybe I’ve stopped listening…

I write, and I feel like a fraud. Suddenly, I question myself: who am I to call myself a writer? Who am I to encourage others to find inspiration, to motivate themselves, to foster the writer inside of them when I can barely string a few words together to make a coherent sentence? My credentials and experience seem juvenile when compared with published authors; my portfolio seems woefully small.

Am I a writer?

Or am I just an impostor? Playing a good game of make-believe, fooling everyone, including myself?

Deep down, I know the answer. Deep down, I know that every piece of myself screams “writer.” I feel the word itself living within me, pulsating through my veins, even as these words are forced from my fingers where they once spilled forth easily, naturally.

But that self-doubt keeps me frozen, keeps those stories locked away, small pieces of inspiration barely slipping through the bars of a self-made cage.

It’s the writer’s greatest enemy.

And it’s time to do battle against it.



What battles do you face as a writer? How do you contend with self-doubt and these often irrational insecurities?



Part II: Battling Yourself: Fighting the Fear of Writing, coming soon.


Note: After expressing these thoughts recently to a friend, I was told that there is something called impostor syndrome, which is a very real, very crippling manifestation of these thoughts. While I do believe a lot of my own feelings are due to a temporary case of self-doubt, I’m very aware that this exists and wanted it to be acknowledged.

A laptop can travel with you without being cumbersome, recorders can capture ideas as soon as they’re envisioned, and pens can be poised and ready with a simple click or twist of a cap. Writers no longer have to wait until they arrive home to get started on that new story or scene; a writer can go anywhere to find inspiration as long as they have their writing tools, and technology has made it that much easier to accommodate creative impulses.

But does where you write really matter?

When you’re ready to settle in and immerse yourself in your fictional world, your setting can be the most important part of your story. However, I’m not talking about the one created in the imagination, marked by punctuation and vivid imagery; the setting I’m referring to is your own surroundings; the story is your own writing journey.

Through the years I’ve tried writing in classes, libraries, and cafes. I’ve worked in the solitude of an office and in busy and boisterous coffee shops; I’ve written outside in the brilliant sunlight and under the soft lamplight in the comfort of my home. What I’ve found is that little light and mellow music allows for me to become completely absorbed in the story, connecting with the characters and their emotions. I tune out everything else around me, and for that amount of time, all that exists are my words. My characters’ emotions become my own, and their setting becomes my world.

For many, where and how you write really can matter, as atmosphere and comfort can be vital to sparking inspiration and unleashing creativity.

Where do you do your best work? How do you delve into your writing and become a part of the world you’ve created?

Where’s your setting?

I’ve recently encountered writer’s delay with my novel. I’d call it by its appropriate name, writer’s block, except I’m still writing, trying to work through it. My specific problem is that I’m not exactly getting anywhere, and what’s emerging are snippets of ideas rather than a linear story.

When a story just doesn’t feel like it’s working anymore, instinct tells you to put it aside until inspiration returns. The problem with this is sometimes the characters close themselves off and stop speaking, scenery fades away, and plot fizzles. After months of a blinking cursor and a blank stare, you begin to wonder if the story is meant to be told at all.

What I’ve found is that, too often, the characters are still there, still talking, but we’re so bogged down by outside influences, responsibilities, that their voice is but a faint whisper. Tune in. Listen to them. They will take you where you need to go.

But listen, too, to your instincts. Sometimes the main character isn’t the one doing the talking at all. When voices go silent and you feel your creativity drained, consider writing from another perspective: the villain, the mother, the sister, the neighbor, the best friend…Start fresh with this new point of view and see where it will lead you. You don’t need to use it for your story, necessarily; however, the exercise will open the door for you, allow for creativity to move forward, and perhaps lead you in a new direction, one that might take you by surprise.

Listen to your instincts. Listen to your characters. Your story wants to be told; give another character the chance to tell it.

A favorite pen and Moleskin journal. A number two pencil and spiral-bound notebook. A typewriter on the kitchen table; a laptop resting on your legs. Writers can use any instrument to extract the words from their mind, but do the thoughts you want to convey ever change with the tools and outlet with which you write?

I used to write my stories by hand in either colorful school notebooks or fancy journals with sometimes radical cover designs. I loved these hardcover journals when I was younger, often taking my time at the store to pick out the perfect one that would match my story. This would be my “book” — cover art and all. I’ll admit, I judged the book by the cover, and my cover needed to feel like it fit perfectly in order to convey the story within.

As I grew older, I naturally transitioned to the computer, writing and rewriting with the ease of a few buttons and blinking cursor; my writing became more polished and structured, taking on a new voice and a different tone from my days of writing in a journal. I could process my thoughts faster, without fearing that an idea would suddenly be lost. Indeed, technology seems make one more productive due to its usability and ease, but then how does it change one as a writer?

I brought this issue up with some Twitter acquaintances, wondering if technology changes what and how we write. One said that technology stifles creativity, leaving them less inclined to experiment, while the general consensus was that writing on paper leads to more reflection and greater sentimentality.

Is this the case? Does your voice, your expression of thought, change between paper and a screen? Are you more productive? Less creative?

How has technology changed your writing?

I wrote this post in May of 2008 on my personal and career development site, twenty(or)something, when I first entered the world of blogging. It had seemed like a long time since I had felt that passion for creativity, for writing, and I wanted to express what writing meant to me, how much a part of me it was, and how I wanted to find it, and myself, again.

Nearly one year later, every word still rings true…

I’ve told this story a thousand and one times, but because I’m trying to make a point, I’ll tell it again.  Years ago, when I first met my friend Josh on the internet, he asked me what I wanted to be when I “grew up.” A writer, I answered him. His answer is one that sticks in the back of my mind, an answer that I draw forth almost daily, whenever I need to remind myself of its truth: “You already are a writer.”

I think I must have rolled my eyes and typed back furiously something along the lines of, yeah, whatever, but I want to be published.Back then, I imagined a writer as being someone who had a book on the shelves, being analyzed and read in classrooms or in reading circles or even, god forbid, at the beach. If only I knew then, ten years ago, how wise Josh’s answer was.

Writing is more than a profession; being a writer is different than being a banker or a CEO or a politician. Being a writer is more than just a way of life…it is an undeniable part of your own existence that barely has an explanation and rarely makes any sense. Sure, writing is a craft and a skill that has to be honed and molded and anyone who has a respectable vocabulary and working knowledge of grammar can accomplish it. But that’s the profession. That’s not a writer.

A writer is someone who looks at language as magic, who appreciates the story made up of the little moments in life. A writer is someone who feels the energy of an idea through her whole body, feels the urge, the need, to write like a tingling sensation, ready to spill forth from her fingers. A writer dreams and dares and hopes and immerses herself in emotion and imagery and wonder.

Despite setbacks and disappointments, a writer dreams. Despite failure and rejection, a writer hopes. She has stories to tell and characters to meet and places to travel, and even if those stories never make into the hands of the public, she will continue to write.

Because writing is a part of her; she needs it like she needs the air to breathe. To keep living, she needs to be writing, otherwise she is but a lackluster shell of the person she once was. Writing is more than a living for this person, more than a talent. For the writer, writing is everything.

For the writer, a passion doesn’t have to be found or rediscovered. For the writer, that passion is inherent, instinctive; always there and never forgotten.

What does writing mean to you?