I’ve had readers in the past ask questions in relation to impostor syndrome and the fear of failure, and I’ve always hesitated on speaking on it. There’s a good reason for it – and this is the douchey-ish thing ever – but the reason I don’t talk about them is because I don’t have either one.
Imposter syndrome is usually rooted in the fear of incompetence. And it’s not that I believe I was born with some brilliant gift of the gods or anything, but I don’t struggle with the fear of incompetence at writing because I’ve been working on it for more than 20 years. High school Deidrea, who was just starting to take creative writing seriously, was a wildly different writer than current Deidrea, who has studied and written for countless hours over the span of a couple of decades. High school Deidrea might have struggled with imposter syndrome. Current Deidrea is certainly no imposter. An imposter wouldn’t have spent 20 years studying the craft. That’s not something fakes do.
Now, there is often the problem of my work not meeting my expectations; a gap between my vision and my output. This might bring up some feelings of being an imposter. The vision is so clear in your head, but it becomes dull and far less epic on paper.
Poor quality writing does not equal a poor quality writer. The writer is a person, the writing is a creation of the person. They are not the same.
Deidrea DeWitt
This could certainly bring up thoughts of incompetence. But this should be thought of as a gap between vision and skill. This, however, doesn’t make you an imposter, but instead, simply at a slightly lower level than desired. The fantastic thing is that you can always improve your skills.
So if there’s a time that I work on a piece and it comes out different than I expected, usually I ask myself two questions. The first question is, “Is the story taking solid shape and turning into a good story even though it’s not what I imagined?”
If yes, then I keep going to see where the story ends up. I can always edit later. Not a problem.
If not, the second question is, “What do I need to do to push this story in a better direction or improve my writing to get this story where I want it to go?” I may need the help of beta readers and professional editors at this point. Your writing community is essential for this reason. Even if you have to hire your community, it’s still a team. This is where my writing gets challenged and pushed to a higher level. There is nothing negative about that.
As for fear of failure, I don’t have that simply because I’ve failed so many times that I’ve found the results to be minimal. I’ve been insulted to my face. I’ve been insulted online. I’ve lost money producing books and never selling enough to make my money back. I’ve had people close to me show their true colors after publishing. Quite frankly, it’s not entirely dramatic. It’s about a week or month of annoyance and disappointment, but sooner or later forgotten. Consecutive failure is more exhausting, I admit, and I do often feel the sting of not being as successful as I wish to be; but this is not a fear of failure but more or less discontentment with my current situation.
The best way to overcome fear is to simply fail. Start with small risks, fail those, and it will build up your emotional immunity to such things. Small failures allow you to adapt and build a course of action. A beginning artist should be more afraid of wild success after no failures because then they won’t be able to handle failure in a healthy manner down the road. And failure is inevitable in all career paths. Mistakes happen. There are misunderstandings. Poor moves. Bad luck. That’s just life as a whole.
Something should be said, perhaps, about your identity as a writer. Artists – and many people in general, I suppose, especially in a heavily postmodernist age – have a tendency to take one piece of themselves and make it the piece that defines their entire existence. It took me a good while to separate myself from my writing, to learn that they are not the same thing.
My writing is a creation, not a representation of my entire self. Negative comments on my writing are usually directed at the piece and the perceptions that come out of it on the part of the reader. Poor quality writing does not equal a poor quality writer. The writer is a person, the writing is a creation of the person. They are not the same. Therefore, my identity is not wrapped up in my success as a writer, the money I make from writing, or the skill and level of my writing. My value comes from my response to those things, and how I continue to build my skill sets and my character in spite of such things. My creation is not dynamic and does not evolve; it can only sit there and be read. On the other hand, I am dynamic and cannot be read, and I am constantly evolving, should I choose to. This makes me and my writing completely different creatures, since we each have our own functions.
If the fear of failure and impostor syndrome is rooted in incompetence or inexperience, the best thing for a writer to do is to look for ways to gain experience. The first is to write often. All the time, in fact. Over a span of years. (That’s how art works, by the way. It’s a lifelong endeavor that is never completed.)
You turned in assignments in school that were absolute trash and became a better student for it. Hand over your trash writing and become a better writer for it.
Deidrea DeWitt
The second is to read and glean insight, inspiration, and technique from other writers, as well as advanced writing craft books. Read great books. Read bad books. Read mediocre books. Read fiction and nonfiction. Read genres you love and genres you hate. You will always learn something from every book you read.
The third way to gain experience is to look for a community or partners to push your writing. This might be writing online, joining a writing group on weekends, taking writing classes, or hiring a professional editor. You will never become a better artist alone. Never. Throw away that idea. And if you’re afraid to let people see your work, be afraid and still hand it over. You turned in assignments in school that were absolute trash and became a better student for it. Hand over your trash writing and become a better writer for it.
If you take your craft seriously, then you’re not an imposter. Fail often and you won’t be so afraid of failure anymore. And allow a few years to pass as you build your craft. All great artists took their time. So take yours.