Procrastination or Self Sabotage?

Is there something that you’ve avoided doing for so long that the avoidance itself is a form of self-punishment? Just like those of us who fall into cycles of abuse in our relationships with other people, we can fall into the same kind of love/hate/fear/shame cycle with the Inner Critic. If you have put off a project that you really do at your core want to do ask yourself these hard questions: Have you become addicted to the drama of self-loathing? Have you asked other people to help you finish this project? Under what perfect conditions could you finish? How can you set up those conditions to help you succeed instead of fall back into the cycle yet again?

Introducing my mentor.

Tonight I am introducing one of my mentors. Andre Dubus III was a professor of mine while I was studying for my MFA. Tonight he’s doing a reading at the Loft Literary Center and I couldn’t be more thrilled to have to stand up and speak about him. 

Andre is an inspired writing professor and was in fact a transformational teacher for me. During his class I finished my first novel. It was terrible and will never see the light of day, but even so, he asked me to stay after class and shook my hand.

“Do you know how many people say they’re going to write a novel and don’t?” he asked me. “Now you can always say you’ve done it.”

Another time he said to me, “I know I’m going to see your books on the shelves someday.”

Writers are a pessimistic bunch who often talk about how hard it is to write, how challenging it is to publish, and how utterly impossible it is to make a living as a writer. In all of my years studying writing and hanging out with writers, Andre is the only mentor I’ve ever had who said: It can be done. It is for this reason that everyone in our class came up with a nickname for him: Andre Whom I Love.

I’d like to pass on to you a couple of the thoughts Andre Whom I Love shared with us in the mid-1990s. At the time he had already published Bluesman and The Cage Keeper and Other Stories. But it was before his book The House of Sand and Fog was a finalist for the National Book Award and chosen by Oprah for her book club:

When teaching us to be brave about our writing Andre would jump up on top of his desk and shout:

• If the mad dog comes at you, whistle for him!

• You have to jump naked into the abyss!

He taught us that even though we were writing fiction, we had to tell the truth, the big truth that ties us all together as human beings. It is something that Andre does brilliantly in his own work.

Today, consider your mentors. What have they taught you about your profession? What have they taught you about living? Take a moment to thank them.

Welcome to the land of the Forgetful Fog.

This morning when I woke up back in my room, I realized that over the weekend I visited the Land of the Forgetful Fog. It is a place where my intentions to get on the treadmill are lost in the mist, my desire to work on my novel is replaced with other meaningless tasks, my list of to-dos to achieve my goals is left forgotten in a closed notebook.

This is a land where the true devastating genius of my Inner Critic shows up, or rather, doesn’t. Instead of beating me up, it remains quiet. Too quiet. I am lulled into a state of peace. Ahhhhh. I like it here.

If I were doing this quieting of my monkey mind on purpose, this post would be about something completely different because then my intentions to be at peace would be fulfilled in a meditative state. But the Land of the Forgetful Fog is dangerous. It is a place of apathy where I conveniently forget all my dreams because really, they’re too hard to achieve anyway. It is the poppy field in The Wizard of Oz.

I have lived in the poppy field in certain areas of my life for months and, yes, years at a time. Then one day I’ll way up and realize that I haven’t spent a single day writing fiction. Even though that’s what I really want to do. Or I haven’t been to a yoga class in months, even though yoga makes me feel amazing.

For the first half of 2009, here is what I’m going to do to make sure that I don’t lie down and fall asleep among the flowers: I’ll find a Sharpie and write the things I want to make sure I don’t forget to do on a piece of really beautiful, handmade paper. Then I will frame the paper and hang it on the wall in a place where I couldn’t possibly miss it. Next to the door of my bedroom. On the fridge. Near the mirror in the bathroom.

That way I’ll have a reminder that I am on a mission. And isn’t Oz usually a lot closer than it looks?

Smackdown Success Story: Rosanne Bane – Part Two

Part Two. Click here to read Part One.

In your book Dancing in the Dragon’s Den, you wrote a lot about the saboteur. How do you know the difference between when you’re sabotaging yourself and when your Inner Critic is actually helping you?
I think the Inner Critic and the Saboteur are pretty much synonymous. I don’t think the Inner Critic is ever helpful. I know the Saboteur never is. The Inner Critic and the Saboteur are the voices of judgment.

My perspective is that every artist must have discernment, but judgment is never useful. Judgment is final: this is good (no need to improve) or this is bad (no possibility of improving). You have to discern what’s working and what options could improve your work.

How does the Inner Critic show up in your life?
My Saboteur is very subtle. The Saboteur always lies and my Saboteur lies by telling partial truths, usually on some variation of ‘This little thing won’t matter.’ For example, “So what if you don’t show up for your writing today, you can always put in extra time tomorrow.” True, I can skip a day without disastrous results and true, I could put in extra time the next day, but the deeper truth is that if I don’t show up on Monday, it’s harder and scarier to show up on Tuesday. Every day I miss makes it harder to come back. Even more significant, if I tell myself I’ll write every day and then I don’t show up one day, I’ve lied to myself. That feeds the Saboteur and makes it stronger. It’s vital that I keep my word to myself.

Has your own Inner Critic ever kept you from doing something that you wish you’d had the courage to do? What?
Yes and no. The Inner Critic/Saboteur has certainly delayed many of my dreams. But I’m not willing to give up, and as long as I keep showing up, taking action and doing what I can to get out of the limbic brain, where the Saboteur seems to thrive, and back to my creative brain, I’m doing okay.

I don’t know why we all have a Saboteur, but we do, so it must have some purpose. Like M. Scott Peck said “Life is hard. It’s supposed to be hard.” The Saboteur makes it harder. Fortunately, I can do hard. I’ve done things I never thought possible and shown myself that I’m capable of so much more than I usually think I am. You’re capable of more than you realize and you can do hard, too.

What are you most proud of yourself for?
Every day I show up for my writing, my self-care commitments (which are currently meditation and working out), my family and friends, in short, every day I show up for my life, I take pride in that day. I am proud of writing and publishing Dancing in the Dragon’s Den, I am proud of being part of my clients’ and students’ successes, I’m proud of the work my partner and I have done to create a loving, committed relationship. But I don’t want to focus on past accomplishments; I want to keep my focus on the present. How am I showing up for my life today?

What strategies did you use to calm your fears and take action?
I use habits, rituals and routines. Routines soothe the limbic brain and make it easier to move into and stay in the creative cortex. Habits remove the need to make a decision. Once I start the ‘Will I or won’t I” discussion in my head, I’m doomed. A habit means I don’t have to decide everyday if I’m going to write or meditate, I just do it six out of seven days. As an added bonus, research shows that an on-going meditation practice makes the limbic brain less reactive. In other words, the more I follow the healthy habits I’m committed to, the easier it is to follow those habits.

I also make public commitments. Part of the reason I teach the Writing Habit class at the Loft semester after semester, year after year, is that while I’m teaching them how to be accountable to themselves, they’re helping me be accountable to myself. I can’t tell students to follow the three practices I recommend unless I’m doing it myself.

You’re a coach, an author, a speaker, a teacher. What have you done to ensure that you don’t get paralyzed with inaction?
Inaction is not a problem. I’m self-employed and I’m always busy. The challenge is making sure I’m taking the right action. That’s where time management techniques, lists, working with my own coach and public commitments come in.

What do you do when none of your smackdowns are working?
Many years ago, I was clinically depressed and needed intervention from a therapist. I think my Saboteur was totally in control at that time. I’ve gone through that and a few other serious ‘dark nights of the soul’ and now I know I’ll never let the Saboteur get so powerful again. I’ve done my emotional and spiritual work. I know I can always do something to curb the Saboteur.

What keeps you motivated?
Hearing that I’m making a difference in someone’s life. My partner, my family, my friends, my dog, Blue. Being passionate. Being outraged at injustice. The glorious oranges and purples of the sun rising every morning and setting every evening. The yellow finches that gather outside my office window every spring. Great books. The thrill of writing and seeing characters and a story come together out of my imagination onto the page.

Is there anything you’d like to add that I haven’t thought to ask?
Every writer, every creative person, experiences resistance of some kind. Sometimes we recognize that as the Inner Critic or the Saboteur. Sometimes we just think we’re too busy. Sometimes we’re afraid we don’t know where to start or how to keep going. Sometimes we wonder if we really can do what we most want to do. What makes or breaks us is not whether we experience resistance (we will!), it’s how we respond to resistance. The important thing is to keep showing up for your writing/creativity, your life, yourself. I help people do that.

Smackdown Success Story: Pete Hautman

Pete Hautman is a full-time novelist. His book Godless won the National Book Award for Young People’s Literature in 2004. And if you loved that book (I did! I did!) then you can check out the twenty other books (and counting) he has out now. Both my husband and stepson read and praised Rash for days. That’s the next book on my list.

 I had a conversation with a man the other day who claimed that men don’t have Inner Critics, only women do. What do you think about that?

I think that man is not listening.

Do you have an Inner Critic?

His name is Alan.

What kinds of things does your Inner Critic say to you?

He thinks I should abandon the concept of metaphor and get on with the story.

What is the worst thing it’s ever said to you?

You suck.  Your father would hate this.  Your mother would be ashamed.  You are irrelevant.  Everyone will be glad when you die.  You smell weird. 

After you won the National Book Award did you experience any backlash when you showed up at the desk because you won such a prestigious award? Was it easier or harder to start the next project?

What desk?  My desk?  No, it made no difference in my writing.  Nobody other than Philip Roth wins the National Book Award twice; I’ve had my moment.  As for going forward, I had several books in the works already, and a host of ideas on deck (sports metaphor-it’s a guy thing) and hey, if I don’t write I don’t eat.  I’m now writing books I knew I was going to write years ago. 

What techniques have you used to smackdown your Inner Critic day after day, book after book?

Alan is a wimp.  I give him a look and he folds.  Hah.  Take that, Alan.  What?  What do you mean?  Really?  I do not!  Leave me alone.  I’m going to get drunk now. 

If your Inner Critic was a character, what would it be?

This really intolerant and tasteless guy named Alan who has NO FREAKING IDEA what it takes to write a book.

Has your Inner Critic ever been useful?

Well, he kept me from submitting work to publishers until I was 38 years old.  I guess that prevented a lot of breathtakingly awful prose from wasting some poor editor’s precious time.

How do you motivate yourself to finish things?

Hubris, shame, and outstanding bills.

Does a successful author like you continue to have fears and doubts that the Inner Critic beats you up with? If so, what are they?

What is it with you and Alan?  Did he do something terrible to you when you were a child?

If you don’t have a problem with the Inner Critic when it comes to writing, are there other areas of your life it shows up?

It?  Meaning Alan, or writing?  Okay, I cannot bear to dance, or sing, in public.

Is there a time when you were nervous or fearful and you did whatever it was you were nervous about anyway?

Yes. 

How?

I closed my eyes and did it.  There’s not much more to it than that.  Close your eyes really tight.  It helps.

What advice would you give to people who were stuck in inaction because they were afraid to take risks, hear criticism, etc.?

If you can’t handle criticism and rejection, and you still want to be in an artist, prepare yourself to be miserable.  Or give yourself a break and get a real job.

What are your favorite sources of inspiration?

Memories, Nature, News.  In that order. 

Is there anything else you’d like to add?  

Alan, I’m sorry!=

A Guiding Principle

At some point, anyone who follows their passion will suspect that, Oh my god, I have wasted the last X years of my life.

I recently had to face the consequences of my decision to work only low-paying jobs for ten years so that I would have the time and energy to work on my fiction. Because of my salary history, I don’t have a lot of savings I can contribute to buying my own apartment, and the amount of money I can safely borrow is limited.

My mom pointed this out to me the other day, and even though she delivered the news gently and I already knew it anyway, I still felt like I’d been sucker punched.

But the next evening, my mom called me to thank me for all the advice I’ve given her about writing. She has been hired by a writer to help excavate memories from the writer for an autobiography, and to take notes, to keep records, to be organized but not in a way that hampers the creative process, and to be a soundboard in general. A few weeks ago, she asked for my advice about this process, and it turns out that not just my mom is grateful for what I contributed, the writer is, too.

In my value system, helping another writer to write is far, far more valuable than having some extra cash lying around. I am doing what I was put on this planet to do, and if I had to make some sacrifices to do that, so be it. The ten years were absolutely worth it.

If you’re feeling conflicted about the trajectory of your life, take a minute and go back to the start. What were you put on this planet to do?

Write it down and tape it up somewhere you will see it every day. It is proof that you are not wandering around blindly. You have a destination, and you’re on your way.

Maurice Sendak: Still Tortured

NY Times Maurice Sendak Article

The part that kills me most (kills me hardest? kills me bloodiest? kills me most thoroughly dead?) in the Times article is this:

Maurice Sendak “fears he has not risen above the ‘mere illustrator’ label himself.”

On the one hand, I get it. He thinks that a requirement for being a great artist is having a powerful and eternal inner critic. If you’re not pushing yourself against something, then you won’t get past what feels comfortable, which means you’ll just create from the automatic, default part of you. Which isn’t art, it’s armchair.

On the other hand, does he have to brutalize himself so badly? The article makes it seem like he’s never enjoyed any success he’s had, even the quiet, personal success of doing something different than he did before.

Here’s what I bet his Heavyweight is telling him: “Sure, you wrote one book that changed millions of lives. So? You’ll never do it again, so what exactly are you living for?”

Mr. Sendak, a smackdown: Every time you put on a new monster suit and draw a new picture or write a new story, the Inner Critic LOSES. You may have to grapple with the Inner Critic on the regular, like digging out an ingrown toenail. But compare five minutes of bloody pain every now and then to a whole lifetime of dancing! It’s worth it and you know it, or you would have given up and just lived off your profits a long time ago….

(Now, maybe the reporter with the ingrown toenail fetish needs a smackdown, too!)