No, I don’t actually have one. Though adorable dog + beloved husband + excellent reading material + tea + chocolate works pretty well.
There’s been a bunch of excellent posts around the internet lately, talking about writerly self-confidence and angst, envy, happiness, and everything in between. And it’s something I’ve been thinking about quite a bit since selling my books. So although I don’t have a recipe for happiness, I do think I’ve started to understand myself a little better. I’ve still got a ways to go, but I wanted to put a few things down here, for myself, and for anyone else who might find them useful.
I remember very distinctly going into a bookstore in November of 2003 (while I was in the middle of drafting Fortune’s Folly, actually!) and feeling a physically painful yearning: I wanted my book to be there. I wanted other people to read my stories, and enjoy them. To establish that connection with readers. And I did believe that if I could sell my book, that yearning feeling would go away and I’d be happy.
Then I picked up a book (it was Kai Meyer’s The Water Mirror, which takes place in a fantasy Venice) and felt this huge wave of self-doubt: Fortune’s Folly also involves a fantasy city inspired by Venice and all I could think was that I was an unoriginal hack. In fact, I just went and found the old livejournal post from that day. Here’s an excerpt:
So many wonderful authors. So many beautiful words and fabulous characters. I’m having a crisis of faith in my ability now. My characters are flat and unlikable, my prose stinks, my plot is silly, etc.
At least I had some inkling of what was really going on, since I also said:
But it’s happened before and I know this too shall pass. Hopefully by tomorrow. I need my positive energy…
It took a lot more yearning and a lot more self-doubt (and a lot of rejections!) but I finally did sell Fortune’s Folly in early 2007. I was over the moon, thrilled, excited, dancing around the house. It was definitely one of the happiest experiences of my life so far.
And yes, I think on the whole I am happier today, in 2009, than I was in 2003. Part of that is thanks to knowing my book is out there, that I made my dream happen, and that people are reading it. The very sharpest pains of yearning have been dulled. I can’t remember the last time I lay awake at 2AM wrestling with existential angst. And there’s plenty of non-writing things have also made me happier: moving to a state and city I love where I am near my good friends, adopting a dog, taking more control of my fitness and health, planting a garden. I’m even reading better books! A lot of it, though, is just plain recognizing that life is valuable. Time is valuable. I’m better now at prioritizing what really matters to me and mine, and cutting out what isn’t.
But I also still yearn painfully for things I don’t have (starred reviews, awards, foreign rights sales, etc.). And I still dip into valleys of doubt, in which I am convinced I am an utterly untalented hack. Realizing that I was still going to have to battle envy and self-doubt was one of the least pleasant discoveries of the past two years. I spent a good amount of energy being angry at myself for not being happier.
Thank goodness for the internet, though, because it’s connected me with so many wise and wonderful fellow writers and book-lovers, and I think I am finally starting to get a clue how to make this work. The thing is: wanting more is part of human nature. It’s what drives us to build space shuttles and create symphonies. Seeing faults is part of human nature. It’s what allows us to experiment and develop the science to build those space ships, and to find the right notes that harmonize so perfectly.
So here’s what I do.
When I’m fighting with envy: The big key for me is recognizing that I don’t really want exactly what someone else has. I may envy J. K. Rowling’s success but I honestly don’t wish I had written Harry Potter. I love those books, but they aren’t mine. What I really truly want is for that thing to happen to me, for my own books to be good enough to make people love them. If I can twist it around in my mind just right, it turns the envy into a desire to improve my own writing, to try harder, to dare for more.
When I’m fighting self-doubt: There are two things that help with this. One is simply that I’ve gone through enough ups and downs to know that both are temporary. So when I am having a miserable day, I can look back and remind myself that I had a miserable day last month too, and it passed. The second thing I do is to focus on my enthusiasm, rather than my self-confidence. I thank my fellow writer R. J. Anderson for that realization, since she’s the one who first directed me to this excellent article. The thing is, I may not be confident that other people will like my work, or that it will sell, or even that my writing is up to snuff. But I know that I was enthusiastic about the story, that there’s something about it I love and want to bring out. So I focus on what excites me and makes little shivers run along my skin as I dream about it. If I can find the love rather than dwelling on the fears, I can usually move onward.
It doesn’t always work, but it’s what I strive for, and I think it’s helping me make my envy and self-doubt work for me, rather than the other way round.
How about you folks? Anyone else struggle with these things? How do you cope?