A writer? Who, you?

At this point, you may be wondering if writing a novel is even something you can do, let alone writing a new one every year. Perhaps you have never taken a creative writing course or shared your writing with others. You may question whether you can even call yourself a writer without ever having written a complete work, whether it be a novel, an essay, or a poem. Maybe you believe you can’t possibly call yourself a writer until you have finished writing something. If that’s the case, you may wonder how you can justify the time you will spend writing a novel when you’re not even a “real” writer yet. These feelings of doubt are completely normal. Some would even say that this, too, is part of the writing process.

One struggle that many emerging writers battle is imposter syndrome. This is a common experience among writers and other creative professionals. It is the feeling that despite their accomplishments, skills, or expertise, they are not truly qualified or deserving of their success. There are several reasons why writers may experience imposter syndrome. For example, writers often have high standards for their work and may compare themselves unfavorably to other writers or to their own idealized vision of what their writing should be. This can lead to feelings of inadequacy and self-doubt. Writing is also a subjective art form, and writers may receive rejection or criticism from publishers, editors, or readers. Even a single negative comment or rejection letter can trigger feelings of self-doubt and insecurity.

Writing can also be a solitary pursuit, and writers may feel isolated or disconnected from others who share their passion for writing. This can lead to feelings of self-doubt and a sense that they are not part of a larger community of writers. Ironically, success and recognition can also trigger imposter syndrome. Writers who achieve success may worry that they are not deserving of their achievements, or that they will be exposed as frauds or imposters.

So, you see, it’s not just you. It’s all of us. It’s important to recognize that imposter syndrome is a common experience and that many successful writers have struggled with it at some point in their careers. Talking to other writers or seeking support from a therapist or mentor can help writers overcome imposter syndrome and regain confidence in their abilities. It will also help if you approach this writing series and the process it outlines with a sense of play. Don’t take yourself or your writing too seriously. Consider this a fun learning experience rather than the beginning of you writing the “Great American Novel” (or great wherever-else-you-may-come-from novel).

Now, before we jump into the novel writing process — next post, I promise! — I’d like to share the following passage from Janet Burroway’s Imaginative Writing: The Elements of Craft (4^th ed.):

You…

You started learning to write—at the latest—as soon as you were born. You learned within hours to recognize an “audience,” and within days that expressing yourself would elicit a response. Your basic desires created the fundamental form of story—I want, I want, I WANT—with its end in gratification (comedy) or denial (tragedy). Within a year, you had begun to understand the structure of sentences and to learn rules of immense subtlety and complexity, so that for no precisely understood reason you would always say “little red wagon” rather than “red little wagon.” You responded to rhythm and rhyme (One, two. Buckle my shoe.). You matched images and explained their meanings (This is a giraffe. Dog is hungry.). You invented metaphors (My toes are soldiers.). By the time you could speak, you were putting together personal essays about what you had done and what had happened to you and forecasting fantasies of your future exploits. By the time you started school, you had (mostly thanks to television) watched more drama than the nobility of the Renaissance, and you understood a good deal about how a character is developed, how a joke is structured, how a narrative expectation is met, and how dramatic exposition, recognition, and reversal are achieved. You understood the unspoken rules of specific traditions—that Bugs Bunny may change costumes, but the Road Runner may not, that the lovers will marry, that the villain must die.

You are, in fact, a literary sophisticate. You have every right to write.

This needs saying emphatically and often, because writing is one of those things—like public speaking, flying, and garden snakes—that tends to call up unnecessary panic. Such fear is both normal (a high percentage of people feel it) and irrational (statistically, the chances of disaster are pretty low). It is true that some speakers do humiliate themselves, some planes do crash, some snakes are poisonous. Nevertheless, people do learn to speak, fly, and garden. And people learn to shrug at their dread and write (Excerpt from Imaginative Writing: The Elements of Craft.)

So, shrug away, dear writer. Forget everything you know about writing a novel and return to the basics: the steps in the writing process. Plan to write a basic and simple novel during this journey on which you are about to embark. Once you have finished writing this first experimental novel, you may then proceed with the confidence and knowledge you need to repeat the process. Your writing will improve exponentially with each new novel you finish so that someday you might finish writing your own Great Novel.