The scene opens: a writer, who is absolutely not me, sits at a messy desk. Alone...or is she?
Lana: I need to write a blog. I don't know what to write.
Inner Critic: There's literally the whole world, the whole universe—all of space and time—and you can't find anything to write?
Lana: Shut up. What's on my mind?—Galadriel's on my mind. That line about “even the smallest of people can make a difference.” Probably because of the “Auction for Erin” at Murder and Mayhem in Milwaukee this past weekend. A lot of people banded together and raised a lot of money for a good cause.
IC: But you wrote about MMM last blog. Can't do that.
Lana: Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know. I bet Galadriel wakes up looking like that. I wake up looking like a hungover hobbit with a bad case of bed-head.
IC: And your back lighting is laughable. You need a stylist. Maybe two or three stylists—
Lana: Thanks, shut up. Um, maybe I could write about that?
IC: Do you really want to write about your insecurities? I don't think so. People might find it yucky, self-pitying. And you know, that's really more about Peter Jackson's vision, and less about Tolkien's—your purist friends will not be happy. And women and self-image? Readers might find it political—
Lana: I don't really think I look like a hobbit with bed-head—hey, that could be funny! And political, that could be good, if I approach it thoughtfully enough...
IC: Naw, no one wants to read that. What else you got?
Lana: Uh, I went to the ASH luncheon in New York the week before that. Down to NYC and back in one day to hang with awesome Sherlockian friends. And I was invited to the Baker Street Irregulars' annual dinner—that's a big deal. There's lots of cool things there to talk about: writing and reading, the history of those organizations, ACD. And oh, hey, just Sherlock Holmes, by the way...
IC: Uh-uhn. Other people will find it dull. Geeky.
Lana: What? There's nothing wrong with geeky!
IC: Well, it's just very specific. Too specific. What else?
Lana: Shut up. (Ponders) I really want a sandwich.
IC: Ooh, there you go! Where are you thinking for lunch?
Lana: Well, it's got to be quick, because—hey! I need to write this blog! What are you doing?
IC: Um, helping?
Lana: No, no you're not! Everything I suggest, you immediately veto. I had at least three or four ideas, not perfect, but if I played around with them, I could have made them pretty good. But you, you're doing nothing but distracting me! You cannot distract me with lunch meat!
IC: No, I'm helping you! I have your best interests at heart!
Lana: Nope. You're keeping me from writing. Be gone!
(Dana, er, Lana claps her hands imperiously. Doesn't look anything like Galadriel, but maybe a little like Xena, Warrior Princess, which may be even a little bit cooler, and much more bad-ass. Inner Critic vanishes, sniveling, in a puff of sulfurous smoke.)
Annnnd... scene.
Dear writers, all of you: International best-sellers, solid-mid-listers, nearly-published folk, those of you trying NaNoWriMo this year, those of you thinking about giving it a shot next year...
I bet you all have some version of this in your head. I thought (hoped!) it would go away with my second book, or my ninth book, or my eleventy-millionth short story, but it hasn't. Every day, I realize that the inner critic is stalling me, filling me with the fear that what I write will suck. Writing is exposing yourself, and daring to do something, and daring to be dumb, and hey, it's not always the practical choice. For me, for many of us, though, it's the only choice. But Inner Critic doesn't want my work to suck! And I would rather not suck, but I can't afford to be as safe as Inner Critic would like. I hear it every single day, and I had hoped it would go away. It won't.
Anne LaMott talks about writing the shitty first draft—and that's what I usually use as a mantra, to get back on the right track. Get something down, edit later. You can't sculpt without marble, and writers have to make their marble first. Or you can never go wrong paying attention to your Uncle Stevie. Here's a few other bits of encouragement:
“The first draft is just you telling yourself the story.”—Terry Pratchett
“Fear is the mind-killer.” Frank Herbert
“Sometimes you need to light yourself on fire and run through an orphanage.”--Chuck Wendig
So, no, shy of an exorcism, you can't make the voices in your head go away. You can only brush them off like the insistent drunk at a party: “Yeah, I hear you, I get it. But I really need to be somewhere else right now.”
I need to be writing.
Quote for you from Stephen King:
"The hardest part is just before you start."
xoxoxoox
Posted by: Hank Phillippi Ryan | November 16, 2015 at 04:45 AM
Oh, yes, Hank! I'm trying to think of that "before I start" moment as warm-ups, as part of the process, to keep it from adding to the FUD of writing. xoxoxo
Posted by: Dana | November 16, 2015 at 05:54 AM