Hey self-doubt, I see you
Recently, I became completely obsessed with a story I’m writing. It requires a ton of reporting to understand this issue, but there’s also a compelling character at the center of it all. I’m having a hell of a time weaving together the disparate narrative threads, making it entertaining and ensuring this complicated topic is both understandable and not oversimplified. I have been staying up every night and working through weekends to figure this all out. (One benefit of obsession? Endurance.)
Even amidst the madness, I had a thought come up on a beautiful Saturday afternoon when I was inside working: You know what, I love this. (I know, that’s ridiculously earnest, right?) I love to completely immerse myself in a story, even on a gorgeous Saturday afternoon. I wondered why writers often complain about writing and how arduous and awful it is. (I am included in this lot.) I realized that it’s probably not the writing they (we) hate. I think it’s the self-doubt and self-criticism that comes along with it. That’s what actually makes writing awful—those storms of paralyzing doubt and fear and that unnerving thought: Can I actually pull off what I have set out to do? I have to imagine that just about every writer has experienced this.
But what happens when you take that part out of the equation? Ok, the doubt and fear might not actually go away, but what if you could change your relationship with those feelings and not identify with them quite so much? It’s like “hey doubt, I see you and I’m not going to let you convince me to hate writing.” And what if, after that, even though it takes time, writing was less an act of torturous struggle and more an act of happy effort? Is that even possible? I like to think so.