Nouns Are Out, Verbs Are In
To clarify about my subject line: no, I’m not going to rant about the evils of adverbs or something. I have no objection to any grammatical category.
This is my long-requested diatribe about the phenomenon colloquially known as Impostor Syndrome.
On the off chance you haven’t been around communities of creatives much; Impostor Syndrome, as the term is commonly used, is the name for the crushing fear that you aren’t good enough to be a “real” author/artist/musician/dancer/what-have you, that you’ve only been pretending. That your role is an act, your accomplishments flukes or fakes, and that eventually, people will realize you’re a fraud.
I’m going to pick on authors in particular, because that’s where I’ve been spending most of my time these last few years, though I’ve made my way through many creative communities in my life, and all of them featured loads of people suffering this particular affliction.
Generally, I see the progression go something like this:
1) I will be a real author when I finish a novel
1) I will be a real author when I’m published
2) I will be a real author when I’m traditionally published
3) I will be a real author when I can make a living off just my writing
4) I will be a real author when I win awards
5) I will be a real author when I’m sure I’ll leave a legacy
There’s also, thanks to the perennial Internet advice that writers must “write every day”, a general feeling that people who can’t devote enough time to writing due to responsibilities, mental health barriers, or writers block, aren’t deserving of being called “real authors”.
This sneaks up on people. There’s always another goal to chase, and it’s not till you slow down the frames that the see how the stop-motion works. It’s a mirage that keeps receding no matter how fast you run towards it.
I’m not the first person to point any of this out, but I’ve given it a lot of thought, and I want to pick this apart a little further, and explain what I think is going on under the surface.
I don’t see enough talk about why so many people are so susceptible to impostor syndrome.
From my point of view, people are usually chasing the intoxicating combination of stability, inclusion, and validation. These three different things get presented as one inseparable bundle they they get treated as one thing.
I have absolutely no objection with anything in this bundle.
Take stability. If your goal is to make a living at your craft, whatever it is, you have to embed yourself in the business side of things in such a way that you can make a substantial income. That’s hard to object to!
Personally, I love keeping my writing and other arts separate from my living expenses, because it lets me make whatever I want at whatever pace I want, but that’s me. I’m blessed with a career I adore that’s good at paying the bills. Not everyone is so lucky.
The next one, inclusion, is something I think many people are loath to admit they are chasing. I suspect too many authors have felt like a sad outsider longing to sit at their versions of the cool kids table, and aren’t keen to align themself with that image again. Some of the bolder authors will stake their claim to inclusion through the lens of representation and equity- and that’s not only reasonable but morally just.
But even without that- it’s actually fine to want to be admired and valued by people you admire! It’s ok to want to be taken seriously, and have your art enjoyed by people whose skills and taste resonate with your own!
And of course inclusion is often tied to income. If you want to make a living, you may have to deal with gatekeepers who can funnel the money towards you.
The admiration and respect of your peers feels good.
It does not change who you are.
The same thing is true of validation. It feels good, and there’s absolutely nothing wrong with wanting it. Wanting to move others is one of the most fundamental reasons human beings create things. When I’ve been told that my stories reached someone it’s one of my favorite feelings in the whole world. I write to communicate, and we all like to be listened to when we are earnestly trying to communicate.
But that feedback doesn’t change who I am. It can’t change who anyone is.
I wasn’t just standing there, manuscript in hand, being not-an-author until someone came along and said “I liked your book”. There was no comment that caused the clouds to part and muses to appear in a shaft of golden light, crowning me with laurels and bestowing unto me the title of author.
But I’ve met so many creators, of all stripes and skill levels, who act as if something, someday will finally come along and legitimize them. Something outside of them will happen and then, they imagine, they will stop feeling insecure or afraid. They will have stability and respect and community forevermore, and everything will be ok.
I am completely sympathetic to the desire.
It just can’t work that way.
There’s nothing you can attain that will suddenly make you an author, musician, actor, artist, or anything else.
Because ultimately, those titles are meaningless. A painter is just someone who paints. A musician is just someone who makes music. Authors are just people writing things down. There’s no stipulation for frequency, length, skill, popularity, creativity, or legitimacy. There’s no innate distinction between the dabbler and the legend.
So worrying if you’re a real author is meaningless.
There’s no such thing.
But people get so wrapped up in chasing the mirage they hope will cure them of their insecurity that they make that insecurity a thousand times worse, sometimes to the point of abandoning the activity they love.
I hate that I live in a society that tries to draw lines around “creative” people and “non-creative” people. That pretends that only some people are storytellers, or that only the best players should make music. Humans have done these things since we first became humans, and sometimes maybe even since before then. These impulses don’t belong to some nebulous elite class. There’s no distinct category of people who get to create things, and everyone else is dull drones with no right to creation.
So, to circle back to the subject line, I’m pleading with people to focus less on nouns, and more on verbs. Abandon efforts to define your identity by fuzzy titles, and focus on the work.
You don’t need to put effort on being an author. You just need to write.
Chase your stability, and validation, and inclusion as you need or want to. But know why you’re doing it.
If you want to make something, if you want to communicate something, then that’s your right as a human being.
Nobody can legitimize you, and nobody can take your legitimacy away. It’s yours, no matter what, to do whatever you want with.
So, please, if you feel the urge, go make something. You’re already real.
With Thanks, as Always,
Lee Brontide
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