I always had this way of describing myself not as a writer but a storyteller. I felt a self conscious urge to be something more than just a writer, because I didn’t like the idea of simply being reduced down to someone who constructed sentences and paragraphs using language. I wanted to be more than that so I self-described myself a storyteller: writing just happened to be my medium.
This was at a time when I wasn’t getting much writing or storytelling done at all. Instead, what I was doing a lot of was blabbering. The main topic being how I wanted to tell stories. But I wasn’t actually doing what I claimed to want to be doing.
In a way this was my fake it til you make it period. I’m not claiming that I’ve made it in any form of recognition or success. But I have made it to the point where I no longer suffer imposter syndrome; I no longer feel that I am a phoney when I pursue storytelling or writing. And on top of that, I no longer struggle to enjoy doing the work. I do still struggle to do the work in the first place, but when I do manage to jump through the fire of getting started, I enjoy doing the work every time.
So to me, I’ve made it. I said I wanted to be a storyteller when it was so painful to be actually doing so, and today I love doing it, albeit still not loving the getting started part of it.
Although I wasn’t writing a lot of stories during my long faking-it phase, I was drowning within my own existential story that I continuously repeated. This story was related to that self conscious desire to be something more than just a writer. In fact I now see that it was simply an evolution of that same idea.
That falliable story was something I told myself because of low confidence. I saw all the great writers and didn’t think I could ever be one of them. So I made up a lie that I didn’t want to be a mere writer, but something greater. This way I felt insulated from the pending failures that await all writers along their developing journey. Which is, submitting stories to journals, publishing houses, and editors. And getting rejected by all them.
My lie allowed me to proclaim that I was above submitting to those establishment folks, because well I am not a writer, but a storyteller of course!
This was a dangerous lie. But now that I have beaten this lie, have admitted that I had been telling myself such a lie, I can now reflect on it. And from this reflection I have come up with a writing plan for myself.
So I didn’t get to my Q1 writing plan on this post either. Next post tomorrow, I promise!