Ten Tips for Beating (Or At Least Wounding) Imposter Syndrome
Imposter Syndrome is a term for that swampy, panicky feeling that your work isn’t good enough—that not only are you currently wasting your time, but that you’ve wasted an unconscionable amount of time in the past, and that at any moment someone (possibly even everyone) is going to discover you are a complete fraud. Pretty much all creatives exist in a roiling cauldron of self-confidence and Imposter Syndrome. Here are some tips for reframing, distracting, and ignoring that most unwelcome of creative companions.
- Redistribute your Imposter Syndrome. Think of someone famous you don’t particularly care for. I don’t mean to make this political, so let’s take, for instance, Ted Cruz. I understand no one in either party likes him. Do you think Ted Cruz ever wonders if he’s the right man for the job? If he’s wasting his time? If he’s good enough to be sharing his thoughts with others? Imagine taking some of your Imposter Syndrome and giving it to Ted. Put it in a box with a big red bow. Here, in exchange, you can have a bit of his over-sized self-confidence.
- Do Things You’re Really Bad At. Author Maggie Stiefvater often talks about learning to play the bagpipes (one of her many amazing talents). Bagpipes sound horrible when you’re learning to play them. And they sound horrible very, very loudly. But she obviously got better. Try non-writing things, and let yourself be bad at them. Get used to that uncomfortable feeling as you get better. Think about how you can’t get better if you quit. Don’t let the brain goblins tell you that you’re not getting better. Don’t let Imposter Syndrome make you quit.
- Remind yourself that imperfect writing gets published all the time. Fifty Shades of Grey sold fifteen million copies. If you read it and liked it, absolutely no shame. We should all get our reading joy from whatever books we want. But it is, objectively, not well-written. The first page explains the whole set-up, then the second page explains it all over again, but in dialogue. It’s exposition dump after exposition dump. Stop questioning your ability, and get to work.
- Identify times when you repeatedly get Imposter Syndrome, and develop a mantra. Do you bottom out in the middle of your draft? Run away when the end is in sight? Suddenly need to clean all the things when you finally get a two hour window to edit? Recognize these self-sabotaging moments and recite your own counter-spell. "It’s always like this; it will pass if I don’t stop." "This is goblin talk. I don’t listen to brain goblins." "Just keep writing; just keep writing." Find one that works for you.
- Identify places where you repeatedly get Imposter Syndrome, and avoid them when you need to. Do you already know that reading author, agent, or querying posts on your favorite social media sends you to the Sofa of Self-doubt? Is your relative always asking why you can’t just write some horror books like that Stephen King guy? When you have work to do, protect yourself from the people and places that make it harder for you to do it. Stop doom-scrolling. Use an app like Freedom to block your access to the internet. Schedule time to write like you’d schedule a hair cut or dentist appointment. Make it harder to check-out of writing and harder to check-in on the things that facilitate your self-doubt.
- Recognize that your Imposter Syndrome is normal. And in great company. Neil Gaiman, who has sold over forty-five million copies and had his books made into movies and television series, has experienced imposter syndrome. He has a delightful story about it. (Google Neil Gaiman imposter syndrome.) It always makes me feel better. You should go do your thing anyway, even if you feel uncertain, because Neils have imposter syndrome, too. Who are you to be more secure in your accomplishments than they are?
- Stop comparing your shitty first drafts to Pulitzers. In Bird by Bird, Anne Lamott talks about the necessity of shitty first drafts. Author Shannon Hale talks about how you have to shovel sand into the sandbox before you can build a castle. Often your Imposter Syndrome attacks long before you have a finished project. Tell it to shut up and sit down. We’re not done here yet.
- Install your own gatekeeper. Your Reticular Activating System in your brain works to filter out things you don't need. You don’t need to know the color of the flowers you're trampling while you're running from an enraged bull. Imagine making this work for you. Create a gatekeeper for the thoughts you don’t need—maybe an extremely competent assistant, a fierce dragon, your own bodyguard, an actual brain goblin. Give them a name, a spiffy vest, an official hat, their own clipboard. Tell them they are not to let Imposter Syndrome thoughts in. "Nope, sorry. Take that shit right on down the road." Bob the dragon is having none of it.
- Break the Gloom Cycle. If Imposter Syndrome has you Eeyoring like the melancholy donkey in Winnie-the-Pooh, take a time out. Speak kindly to yourself ("This is just a natural part of the process," "Neil Gaiman feels this way, too," "Someone got paid to write the script for Sharknado 5: Global Storming"). Pick an activity that makes you feel better (exercise, listening to music, meditating) or at least competent (folding a basket of laundry . . . no, not the fitted sheet, dear God). Do a small part of your project, something that seems like it’s not too big a deal. Edit a paragraph. Write a sentence. Celebrate your progress by taking a nap.
- Get some writer friends. And if you have them, hang out with them more. Your friends believe in you when you don’t believe in yourself. Outsource your self-confidence until you rediscover your creative spark. Then get back to work.
About the Author
K. A. Herndon is the executive director of James River Writers, a nonprofit that connects, inspires, and educates writers of all kinds. She wrote her first novel in 9th grade in notebooks she shared with her friends, and she still has the friends and the notebooks. Once upon a time, she taught middle school, high school, and community college, but she didn’t like the homework. She lives in Richmond with her husband, two boys, and a hound. Find her at kaherndon.com.