👋 Hello you!
How on earth have they let you get away with this?
Why are you the one in the hot seat? Doing the thing that you’re doing? Are you even qualified? Do you have the requisite experience?
You know what? I don’t think you deserve to be here. In fact, I think you should leave. Right now.
…
Yucky. What a scary thought. And guess what? Nobody’s thinking it, except maybe you, because chances are you suffer from the same thing every-damn-person does, which is…
DRUMROLL…
👤 IMPOSTER SYNDROME
This shit is nothing new. It’s annoying, and it’s pervasive, and it can stop you from enjoying yourself in whatever your chosen field is.
Imposter syndrome is that nagging feeling that you don’t belong or that you’re not good enough. It’s the voice in your head that says you’re a fraud, that you’re not a “real” writer, and that sooner or later, everyone will figure it out and you’ll be humiliated.
I felt it when I was working on The Hobbit surrounded by Oscar winners and famous actors, I felt it when my first film came out and we sold out festival screenings, and I feel it every time I release a book.
First, let’s acknowledge that imposter syndrome is a common experience, especially for creative people. In fact, some studies suggest that up to 70% of people experience imposter syndrome at some point in their lives.
Clance and Imes (1978) were the first to describe imposter syndrome and conducted a study that found that it is more common among high-achieving women. Doesn’t surprise me. There’s a lot of indirect (and sometimes direct) pressure that says only straight white dudes with degrees are allowed to do anything cool.
Have you seen Before Sunrise? It’s a 90s talky romance film. I first watched it when I was a teenager, and there’s a thought from Hawke’s character that really struck me:
Jesse: I remember my mother once told me right in front of my father, they were having this big fight, that he didn’t really want to have me. You know, that he was pissed off when he found out she was pregnant with me, that I was this big mistake. That really shaped the way I think. I always saw the world as this place where I really wasn’t meant to be.
Céline: That’s so sad.
Jesse: No. I mean, I eventually kind of took pride in it. You know, like my life was my own doing or something, like I was crashing a big party.
Now, I was lucky enough to not overhear my mum saying my dad didn’t want me. But I did feel like I was crashing a party by being alive. Like, who let me be here? Was I actually allowed to exist? Who decided that? And who’s continuing to let it happen?
I was half-expecting there to be a pause in the game, and God would turn up to do an existential roll call only to discover that I had somehow cheated on the genetic sweepstakes and now was not only here on Earth, existing, but he’d also managed to become incredibly handsome and charismatic…
Anyway, my point is: if you’re feeling like an imposter, you’re not alone. And more importantly, you’re not actually an imposter. You’re a writer, because you write. It doesn’t matter if you’re a published author or a beginner, if you write for fun or for a living. If you’re putting words on paper (or screen), you’re a writer.
Likewise, if you make music, you’re a musician. If you act, you’re an actor (or actress). If you smelt gold, you’re a smelter.
🧠 Where did this feeling come from?
Okay, so I’m gonna go totally out on a limb here and do some armchair anthropology.
There’s a thing called Acquired Sociopathy. It’s gross. It’s like when someone gets into a position of power and everyone treats them like they’re amazing all the time, and soon enough they lose the ability to realise that they’re actually just a stupid human like the rest of us.
It’s been proven again and again that POWER CORRUPTS. That’s like, power’s main thing. After a while, you drink the Kool Aid and think you’re beyond reproach, no matter what you do. You think ‘if everyone says my shit doesn’t stink, then it mustn’t. If everyone kissing my arse, my arse must be kissable’. Acquired Sociopathy has been shown to genuinely change the brain in the same way brain damage after an accident does.
Yeah. Scary.
Here’s my theory. It’s completely made up, so bear with me.
Imposter Syndrome is our social brain’s way of pulling the reins back on us and keeping us in check. It’s behavioural self-protection to stop us losing friends, pissing off our community, and ending up alone. It’s like that one good friend that steps in and says, ‘Hey, I know you’re lucky and you’re cool and you’re smart — but so is everyone. You’re not special.’
And by doing that, by making us feel like we don’t deserve the praise/opportunity/benefits we receive in life that are often well-earned through hard work, we ensure we don’t become arseholes. Which ensures we don’t get socially ostracised.
But that’s just a brainfart theory based on nothing. Food for thought. Let’s move on.
💡 Okay, so… what do we do?
Banish that feeling. Get on with your life and keep writing.
1. Stop looking over the fence.
Stephen King writes a book a year! No matter what we do, we won’t be Stephen King (well, maybe you will be, but I won’t be). Successful, prolific, critically acclaimed…. We’ll never measure up.
But every writer’s journey is different. You don’t know what struggles or setbacks other writers have faced to get to where they are. And even if you did, it wouldn’t change your own journey.
Focus on your own writing. Celebrate your own accomplishments, no matter how small and remember that success is subjective. Stop looking over the fence and just dig your own situation.
Coincidentally, Stephen King said this:
I have written every word of every one of my books, and that is a fact. But I have felt like an outsider, an imposter, all my life.”
2. “Perfect” writing doesn’t exist.
Stop setting impossibly high standards for yourself. We think that in order to be a “real” writer, we have to produce flawless prose, memorable characters, and a plot that keeps readers on the edge of their seats.
But here’s the thing: nobody’s perfect. Even the most successful writers have first drafts that are full of plot holes, awkward dialogue, and inconsistent characterisation. The difference is that they keep writing and revising until they reach a point where the writing is “good enough”.
So, don’t aim for perfection. Aim for good writing. And don’t be afraid to embrace the messiness of the creative process.
I have written eleven books, but each time I think, ‘uh oh, they’re going to find out now. I’ve run a game on everybody, and they’re going to find me out.’” - Maya Angelou
3. Write for yourself first, and worry about the audience later.
One of the most liberating things you can do as a writer is to write for yourself first. Forget about what your readers (real or imagined) will think. Focus on what you want to say, how you want to say it, and why it matters to you.
When you write from a place of authenticity, you’re more likely to produce work that resonates with others. And even if it doesn’t, you’ll have the satisfaction of knowing that you wrote something true to yourself.
Terry Pratchett said:
The first draft is just you telling yourself the story.”
4. Embrace the revisions.
The first draft isn’t gonna be great. It’s worth getting excited about, and it’s an epic feeling when you finish it… but it’s probably a mess. Overwritten, meandering, and full of holes.
This is groovy! It’s how it’s meant to be, because you can’t rewrite a blank page. I think that’s another quote actually…
You might not write well every day, but you can always edit a bad page. You can’t edit a blank page.”
Jodi Picoult said that one, and she’s a legend.
Every time you revise, you’re refining your craft, improving your storytelling skills, and getting one step closer to your writing goals. Chip away at the marble and reveal your sculpture!
5. Remember: It’s meant to be fun.
Writing can be lonely. It can be a grind. It can feel like a long walk to nowhere. It’s worth it though, because every word you write gets you closer to being the writer you deserve to be. Every minute spent putting pen to paper (or fingertip to key) is time well spent.
Do what you can to make the process fun. I get up early and treat myself to some hazelnut coffee in bed while I write (just because I drink a lot of coffee, it doesn’t mean I claim to be a connoisseur). I sometimes go to cafes and buy a brownie or a caramel slice to nibble on while I write.
You deserve to enjoy your writing time. You’re creating stories where before there was nothing. That’s wildly exciting.
The beauty of the impostor syndrome is you vacillate between extreme egomania and a complete feeling of: ‘I’m a fraud! Oh God, they’re onto me! I’m a fraud!’ So you just try to ride the egomania when it comes and enjoy it, and then slide through the idea of fraud.” - Tina Fey.
📣 Currently reading: What’s Our Problem? by Tim Urban
My mind has been continuously stretched, challenged and expanded by Tim Urban’s book What’s Our Problem?
You might have heard of Wait, But Why? a funny and informative blog where Urban dissects all manners of society. He wrote a series of posts about group social dynamics that garnered a bunch of attention, and What’s Our Problem? is the long, painfully well-researched, smart book of it.
Hugely good. Hugely recommend.