Seth Godin on the seductive peanut butter 'n' arsenic cookie of self-sabotage

Do you follow Seth Godin's terrific blog over on our FeedMe bar? Go. Read. Print. Post on your office wall. Saith Seth:

We know more than enough about marketing now. We know how to craft a story that will spread, we know how to find and lead tribes. The thing we have trouble with is making the commitment to do it even when it's frightening and difficult.

Here's a link to the rest of the item.

A Couple of Links

Today, I'd like to direct your attention to a couple of links.

First of all, over a Romance Roll Call (the military romance blog of Iraq soldier/writer Jessica Scott), I'm talking about homecomings from the front and what they have to do with my latest release, Beneath Bone Lake.

Secondly, I read the most inspiring post this week by author Steven Pressfield (The War of Art) on Overcoming Self-Doubt. It's reassuring to know (in a misery loves company sort of way, I guess) that authors at all stages experience this brand of resistance, and Steven shares some tough-love words to kick self-doubt to the curb. Be sure to check it out!

The Inner Critic Strikes Back

As I've mentioned here before, I regularly do battle with my inner critic. The foul-mouthed, ego-eviscerating harpy won't stay vanquished but simply chews through the scold's bridle I use to silence her for a time and shrieks a chorus of "you-sucks" in my ear.

Well, she's back, clearly sensing a weak moment, with the uncertainty of a new release just around the corner and the painful, full-body slam I've just done against the wall of my latest work in progress. (Invariably, I do this at the 3/4 mark, with a deadline on the horizon. Oddly, the fact that I think every single book is an irredeemable pile of crap at this point in the writing process can't save me from sleepless nights with that damned harpy shrieking in my ear.)

Am I alone in this? I doubt it. I know a lot of authors, count many of them among my best friends, and I can't tell you how many have confided that they fight fear and self-flagellation from time to time. Comes with the territory, I'm afraid. We recognize that in each other and work to pull our buddies through the tough times, just as they do us. (Every writer needs writer buddies for expressly this purpose. Because your family and non-writing friends won't get it. Not really.)

I realize that for unpublished writers, it's a little hard to believe that an experienced novelist has this to deal with. Surely, most believe, the accomplishment of publication is enough to shut down the self-doubt. And what the other externals, positive reviews and contest victories, what about fan e-mails and good sales when they happen?

These serve as temporary balms, but in the end, the doubt is part of you, and in a weird way, it is healthy. For the tamed harpy can be the writer's ally, picking up on a project's flaws, forcing you to look at other possibilities. Unbridled, she'll tear you to shreds, but without her, you risk turning into an inflated ego float in the Parade of Publishing.

So this morning, I'm telling myself to seek the wisdom whispering through the nastiness and blow off all the other b.s. If your harpy's taunts sound stupid if you say them out loud and you suspect that even your staunchest writing allies would roll their eyes and give you the "let's not act like an orphan in the storm" look (thanks, Joni!), you know what you have to do.

Take out that scold's bridle and keep on with your work.