Where Imposter Syndrome Fits in the Writing Process

I feel like imposter syndrome is an integral part of the writing process. That moment when you think everything you write is sh*t and maybe, at that moment, it is. I usually doubt my ability to write in the middle of my first draft. The first half comes to me in a furious hurricane-like storm. It's when I stop to take a breath—which is rather unavoidable—that the doubts creep in.

Today, I felt it again—the word "poser" popped into my head which is just another way to describe imposter syndrome. I was updating my website and I thought—seriously, am I a writer or not? I have two books available for sale now and a third on the way with a few stories available for free via the Chapters: Interactive Stories app. A few years ago, the rights for the first book I published reverted back to me, and it's been "sitting" on the shelf while I figure out what to do with it ever since. Re-publish? Re-write and publish?

So, essentially, I am a two-book author, and I can't even say I'm commercially successful. God, that's depressing. I guess it depends on how you gauge success, in general. My dream was to write and publish—and I've done that and continue to do so. But a writer doesn't really reach the pinnacle of success until they make money (as in royalties exceed marketing and promotional expenses). I'm not there yet. But it just means I have to try harder.

There are lots of legitimate reasons for the short backlist. Writer's block doesn't even factor in. My health is the huge obstacle. When I was healthy, I worked my forty hours and still wrote for three hours everyday—during lunch and after the kids went to bed. I wrote and published my first book in a year. Now? My writing time is a lot less predictable, but as a therapy tool so important. It's the "compare and despair" that gets me. I see other authors... The ones who published thirty books in the last ten years. How do they do it? One word at a time. And I can too. I just need to channel my determination and keep writing.

Despite the doubts—I'm my own worst critic—I do believe I'm a good writer. I love the written word, and I have a crazy, active imagination. Life comes with bumps in the road, and my bumps just happen to be poor health. So, I guess the moral of this story is... don't let my fear and self-doubt stop me from what I'm meant to do. Write.

Dangerous Liaisons

How did I emerge unscathed?

In my pre-adult days... How many times did I put myself (unknowingly) into potentially dangerous situations. Unfortunately, more times than I care to remember. Except one particular incident came to mind this morning, and I’ve been trying to forget it ever since, quite unsuccessfully. When I was 14 going on 15, I became enamoured with an older guy, an 18 year old. Looking back, I wonder what in the world a, for all intents and purposes, man saw in a newly minted teenager, but it’s best not to overthink that.

It was 1995. The summer loomed before me, brimming with countless possibilities. I didn’t know it at the time, but I’d be moving to a different town, several hours away, in the fall. I encountered him, “John” at a teenage dance. He asked me to dance to a slow song. I had a crush on him so I was thrilled. The next thing I knew, we were kissing in the middle of the dance door like there was no tomorrow. To my recollection, he was the second guy I’d ever really kissed so I totally fell into the inexperienced category. I wasn’t even sure if he was sober or knew exactly who I was. He may not have been sober, but he did know my name. I checked several times. That was good enough for me.

Throughout the summer, we’d meet around town and drive off to go make out in his truck. My friends told me he was bad news, but I didn’t care. I liked him. The river was a favorite spot to park. It had secluded going for it and a romantic atmosphere. My adult self screams, “what were you thinking parking with a guy, with probably only one thing on his mind, in such a secluded area?” to my 14 year old self. Young me was just over the moon to have this cool guy paying me any attention. Like I said, I was terribly innocent. And, to his credit, he didn’t really try anything with me. One night, he slipped his hand in my shorts, but the minute he reached the short and curlies, I pulled away in complete shock.

Then, I found out he was taking another girl parking on the same nights as me AFTER he brought me home. I confronted him and that was that. Except for one night, a few months later, when I had a moment of weakness, and we made out at a dance. He was a good kisser, and I really liked kissing.

If I hadn’t been such a prude set on protecting my virtue... oh the trouble I might’ve found in those days. Luckily, the few other dicey situations I landed in didn’t end badly either.

But it made me think about how my view of the world has changed since I was the innocent 14 year old. And, really, why kids take such risks with their lives. Lying down in the middle of the road to play chicken. Joyriding in the back of a pickup truck. Leaving the bar late at night to catch a cab alone. Not that I ever did any of those things.

Examining human nature becomes second nature to a writer. We’re always asking questions about what we observe around us. Why do people do the things they do? I postulate. And it doesn’t always make sense. Not by a long shot. But what would be the fun in that?

The Ideal Reader

I recently read an article from Writer's Digest "Should You Write for Yourself or for the Reader?"

The author of the post, Kip Langello, created a fictional reader—his ideal reader—to write his novels for. The article raised some really thought-provoking questions. When asked if you should write for yourself or the reader, Mr. Langello asks:

• Do you want to get published and paid for it?
• Do you want people to buy and read your book?

If you answered 'yes' to those questions, then ask yourself...

• Who will read your book?

Art is in the eye of the beholder... Readers have varying, and often unpredictable, tastes in books. Writers are not objective enough to access the appeal of their work to a reader. Mr. Langello created a fictional character to be his ideal reader. He gave her a back story—a husband, a career, a life. He used this fictional character as his personal focus group. Would she like this character / scene / joke? Writing to a specific, albeit fictional, 'person' helped Mr. Langello complete, and successfully sell, his novels.

I always thought I wrote for myself. Although my ultimate goal was to publish, and profit from, my work, I didn't set out to write a book that directly targeted a specific audience. Until I read this article and saw the value in writing for the reader. But not just any reader...

My Ideal Reader

Who is my ideal reader? I always viewed my target audience as women between the ages of 20 to 45 who like romance novels, and fantasy / paranormal in particular, so let's start there.

My ideal reader is a 32 year old woman named Joanna. Joanna is single and works in an office. Nothing out of the ordinary happens in her life so she lives vicariously through romance novels. She believes in true love and happily-ever-afters—she's my ideal reader after all—and while she's waiting to meet "the one", she's not putting her life on hold. Joanna has a close-knit group of friends and an active social life. She loves coffee and weekends spent reading in her pyjamas. Her favorite color is blue. She leases a blue car. Her apartment—converted from a 1800s sea captain's house—has a lot of character. She loves trying new things... her latest venture is a candle making class. Last month, she took a French cooking class.

I wonder if Joanna will like my current work-in-progress...