I hear voices when I write.
And they're almost always mean.
Happy NaNoWriMo, writers! This issue is brought to you by paid subscriber Chris, for whom I wish characters with nuance and intriguing personalities. Thank you, Chris, for supporting Real Quick.
Once upon a time, there lived a girl whose heart was happiest when she wrote. As a child, when her imagination ran rampant, and she hadn’t yet learned to question herself, she wrote stories almost as quickly as she thought of them.
But as the girl grew older, her insecurities grew louder. Instead of writing with abandon, she began telling herself that she’d never be able to create anything that others would deem worthy. That she’d deserve to feel pride in. Rather than risk confirming that she was, in fact, not good enough, she stopped writing—even for herself.
Years passed, and as often is the case with True Love, the girl eventually found herself reunited with writing. She remained cautious, still doubtful that her words warranted anyone’s time, but she let herself resume this thing that, more than anything else, made her feel like herself. She carried her journal everywhere, equipped at all times with the tools, if not the confidence, to write.
As even more years passed, and she continued to read; and write and write and write; and she met authors at libraries and bookstores—she finally felt ready to call herself a writer. Again and again, she did the brave thing of sharing her writing with literary journals and media outlets, hoping the editors would want to publish her words. Readers contact her, writing messages of thanks and tears.
She is proud to have persisted.
And still, as of today, every time she puts pen to paper, the discouragement reappears. Comparing her to friends who also write. Recalling interviews in which authors describe how (incredibly quickly!) they complete entire books. Replaying pieces her workshop students read aloud that they’d written, so coherent and artful, on the spot. Suggesting she should be better at this by now.
The criticism and questions trying to stall, every time, her stamina to write.
She’s–I’m–realizing that just because the inner critic says something, that doesn’t mean it’s true.
And while it might be tempting to take the time to refute the inner critic, to explain why these statements are wrong, these questions misleading, doing so just creates more opportunity for additional lies to form. Its taunts aren’t worth any attention. As in meditation, when we notice thoughts and let them continue wandering by, the inner critic’s words need nothing more than to be observed.
While the writer—now a woman—knows better than to hope for happily ever after, she’s content in knowing she will continue to write her stories, inner critic be damned.
I’m writing
a second, hopefully-less-shitty draft of the memoir I wrote during NaNoWriMo 2022. I’m currently serving on a jury in a case that will take several days: a time commitment and emotional toll I hadn’t accounted for this month. However, my approach to NaNo this year is much more strategic than last year (more on that below for paid subscribers), so I’m not freaking out—yet.
I’m (almost finished) reading
Cackle by Rachel Harrison. Of the handful of magic-themed books I’ve read this fall, this one might be my favorite. It’s an uncommon, in my opinion, combination of a light-hearted plot with excellent writing at the line level.
I’m recommending
Getting to know your inner critic. I’ve found that understanding what happens in our mind and body while that unkind voice harps at us helps minimize that voice’s impact. For many of us, our inner critic has gone unchecked for years, if not decades. The process of protecting ourselves from it starts with recognizing how it manifests within us.
Courtney Maum’s list of six things to know before you NaNoWriMo. She’s a tireless cheerleader for writers, from her book Before and After the Book Deal, to her newsletter by the same name (to which I am a paid subscriber), Courtney shares nuanced and wise suggestions to those of us with the dream of publication.
Actually using the NaNoWriMo site if you’re participating in NaNoWriMo. The stats tracking word count are helpful in keeping me on target, and it’s a great resource for finding local and virtual writing meet-ups: a lifeline for anyone working toward those 50,000 words this month.
This episode of the podcast How To Win NaNoWriMo, which breaks down approximately how many words should be devoted to each section of the Hero’s Journey, including how many days to spend on it during NaNoWriMo (assuming you’re aiming for the average of 1667 each day). While I’m fully aware that formulas like this should not be taken as gospel, I am also incredibly grateful for the guidelines. As someone whose pieces typically fall below 500 words, I currently have very little sense of pacing for a book-length manuscript. No matter how much will inevitably change during revision, having these guidelines is keeping me calm and focused as I draft.
I’m reminding you
you are capable and creative—no matter what your inner critic tries to convince you.
You’re reacting
Give yourself a pep talk—for now, later, or both!
Write a meditation or a mantra you can say to remind yourself every time you’re tempted to engage with your inner critic.
For good measure, go ahead and write a battle scene between you and your inner critic. You’re the superhero, of course, and you will conquer this villain.
Compile a list of some of the best writing advice you’ve heard; refer to this (and add to it!) as often and as earnestly as necessary.
What are you especially proud to have accomplished in the face of criticism—internal or otherwise?
