Writers: Don’t Let Doubt Kill Your Dreams

Doubt is an insidious little jerk.

Seriously.

Doubt tells us we aren’t good enough, makes us question our motives and abilities, convinces us we don’t have what it takes and probably should leave the writing to the Steven Kings or Ann Patchetts of the world. Doubt steals our motivation, stifles our creativity, and convinces us our dreams are too far out of reach to even take a step toward attaining them.

But much like every villain is the hero of their own story, doubt honestly thinks its job is to save us from certain failure and humiliation.

The problem?

Doubt is so overprotective its attempts at protecting us can also lead us to not even try, therefore keeping us from potential success, too.

Doubt keeps us from finishing. Worse, doubt can keep us from starting.

So what do we do?

First, do you want to be a writer?

I’m guessing you do or you wouldn’t be here on this page, reading these words, searching for inspiration to disarm your doubt.

Do you write?

I’m going to go out on a limb and assume you do. Whether it’s a blog like this or scribbles in a journal or a poem or an essay or a novel, you write.

Guess what? You are a writer.

We need to start here by acknowledging to our doubt that inherently, we are writers. This is part of our being, our essence, ourselves. It’s a lot harder for doubt to bump up into our confidence, so own the label of writer.

But doubt isn’t that easily swayed. So, what do we do when doubt tells us we aren’t a good enough writer or we shouldn’t call ourselves a writer because we aren’t published or we should quit because we just finished the latest Barbara Kingsolver and there is no way we are ever going to stack up?

We write.

Okay, Monica, that’s nice, but my doubt is still whispering negative thoughts in my brain and I am worried I’ll never be ready/good enough/strong enough/whatever enough.

Fine. I get it. It’s a lot easier to say just write than actually writing when our individual brand of doubt can be so damn convincing.

Remember what doubt’s purpose is. Doubt doesn’t want you to get hurt. So maybe make friends with doubt then repurpose that doubt to serve your writing.

For example:

• When doubt tells you “You aren’t good enough to write that particular story” say, “Thank you, doubt. You may be right. This is a difficult story to tell. I’m going to just take a stab at a draft and see what comes out of it. I don’t have to show it to anyone at all.”

• When doubt tells you “You aren’t good enough to be published” respond with “This draft may not be good enough to be published YET, but I have a solid revision plan and some beta readers/critique partners/support on standby to give me some feedback.”

• And when doubt says, “You should just give up,” challenge it. “Doubt, I can hear that you are scared, but why should I give up? I love writing. Writing is fun for me and interesting. I love telling stories. If it’s all the same to you, I think I’m going to keep doing this thing and see where it takes me.”

Granted, most of us won’t be Barbara Kingsolver or Ann Patchett or Steven King, but we came to the page with something to say and because we love playing with words. So do that thing. Write.

Let doubt have a small voice when you’re editing. Let it question and push you to be better. But whatever you do, don’t ever let doubt convince you to quit.

Writers write.

And when you’ve finished a draft, celebrate that success. Remind doubt that it thought you couldn’t do it and you did. And maybe, just maybe, doubt is wrong about some of the other negative things it tells you, too.

Chip away at your doubt, one word at a time, until you believe in your skills, trust in your abilities, and have confidence in your writing to tell doubt that you are already good enough and getting better at the same time.

Both are true.

Because you are a writer.

No doubt about it.

Featured photo by Nik on Unsplash