Today’s guest post is excerpted from the 10-year anniversary edition of The Writer’s Process: Getting Your Brain in Gear by Anne Janzer.
“I’m not a writer. I’ve been fooling myself and other people. I wish I were.”
John Steinbeck wrote these words while he was working on The Grapes of Wrath, which would win the 1940 Pulitzer Prize and become part of the American literary canon.
That book’s success remained in his future in August 1938 when he wrote that despairing journal entry. However, Steinbeck was hardly an undiscovered talent at that point. Both Of Mice and Men and Tortilla Flat had been published to great acclaim. The staged production of Of Mice and Men had completed a successful Broadway run, and Steinbeck was in discussions with filmmaker Pare Lorentz about making a film of his novel In Dubious Battle. The world considered Steinbeck a legitimate and successful author.
Yet even Steinbeck had his moment of feeling like a fraud.
Syndrome or ordinary experience?
Despite its clinical name, the Imposter Syndrome isn’t a pervasive condition or illness. Instead, it’s a fleeting—and common—experience. Accomplished individuals often fail to internalize their own abilities and feel like frauds. As Steinbeck demonstrated, writers are susceptible.
The American psychologists Pauline Clance and Suzanne Imes published the first research into the state in a 1978 paper titled “The Imposter Phenomenon in High-Achieving Women.” In the years since, research has expanded to explore the effect in other populations and eventually everyone.
It has since acquired the “Syndrome” title, which makes it sound like a disease. Suzanne Imes, one of the authors of the original study, wishes people would stick with the word Phenomenon. Fighting the tide of language change is difficult.
No matter what you call it, feeling like an imposter is not a disease or abnormality. The experience visits most of us when we take risks, creative or otherwise, and may reflect a healthy amount of introspection and caution.
Your own variation on the Imposter Phenomenon may follow any number of scripts:
- Who am I to write a book on this topic?
- I’m not really an author.
- Someone else already said it; I’ve got nothing worth adding.
The Imposter Phenomenon becomes a problem when it changes our behaviors; we decline opportunities, refuse to share our work, or worst of all, stop writing.
If you don’t identify and name this common experience when it happens, the Imposter Phenomenon can prompt you to abandon your work at the moment you most need perseverance.
Steinbeck was well past the halfway point of The Grapes of Wrath, heading into the home stretch, when he wrote that journal entry. Yet there it was: the thought that he was not a writer after all. He didn’t let it stop him.
You shouldn’t either.
How to move through the imposter phenomenon
A little self-doubt can be productive, spurring you to check your research, run your work by trusted readers, or get support from other authors. You stick to your process. But how do you handle Imposter Syndrome if it makes you want to stop entirely?
Here are a few ways to strengthen yourself if and when you hear that voice in your head saying, “Who are you to write this?”
Welcome doubt as paying creative dues
You’re in good company. Authors, artists, entrepreneurs, and nearly anyone undertaking a risky endeavor fall prey to the Imposter Phenomenon.
Steinbeck was no slouch. The feeling of being a fraud doesn’t disappear once you find success; it may become more pronounced as the world recognizes your efforts. Acknowledge the experience without giving in to it. Welcome to the club. Now keep going.
In Shut Your Monkey, Danny Gregory suggests that doubt is healthy: “The only people who don’t have monkeys camping out in their heads are sociopaths.” When the Imposter Syndrome appears, take comfort that you’re not a sociopath.
Listen to your readers
In my writing life, Imposter Phenomenon shows up right on schedule when a book manuscript goes to the copy editor. Suddenly I lift my head from writing, look around, and think, “Who am I to write this?”
The first couple times it happened, it worried me, until I noticed the pattern. Now its predictability makes me laugh. I tell it, “Welcome back, friend. I’m still putting my words out into the world, and every time I do, someone tells me they appreciate it. I’m doing it for them.”
Okay, I don’t say that aloud, but I think it.
Revisit your reasons for writing. Think about the readers you serve with your work and see if that servant authorship perspective helps you.
Let actions contradict the doubts
A writer is a person who writes, so put your inner Scribe to work. At some point, the doubting voices in your brain recognize that, by your actions, you’re a writer.
Trust your process to deliver a good result. Do the next step in the recipe or write the next page of your draft. Let your behavior be your defense.
This was Steinbeck’s solution. Take comfort in the way he concludes the same journal entry in which he declares he is not a writer: “I’ll try to go on with work now. Just a stint every day does it. I keep forgetting.”
Anne Janzer is a nonfiction book coach and the author of multiple award-winning books on writing, including The Writer’s Process and Writing to Be Understood. She is fascinated by the science and mystery of writing, and is always searching for clues to better communication. Whether she’s dissecting a brilliant explanation or revealing the secrets behind memorable writing, Anne’s insights offer a deeper appreciation of the nonfiction you love. Find her books and blog posts at AnneJanzer.com.
