Tedious, tiresome or monotonous, deadly dull, and honestly, that is the life of a writer.
Writing happens in fits and starts, in between, it’s all about editing out the crap, coming back from our self-induced distractions, and of course multiple trips to the refrigerator. Back and forth I walk from the office to kitchen, kitchen to office, office to kitchen not unlike the cursor that moves stoically across the page.
I emulate the actions of my mind or is it my hands that emulate the actions of my body?
Most of the time I open the refrigerator, look around, finding nothing of interest, I close the door, and leave. Returning to my computer, I open the page, browse the unappealing verbiage, close the computer, and leave. I might need therapy?
Why do we do it?
What is the impetuous for keeping that blasted cursor moving across the page?
Maybe I have this deep-seated hunger to reveal a tiny slice of reality. I reach for the dusty curtains, coughing as I push back the material that blocks your view, for a moment I’m blinded by the light that floods the room. I’m trying to show you something, I keep looking for the right words to describe what I see but I have to fight to get outside of myself. Painstakingly I crawl closer and closer to the truth. Knees bleeding.
No wonder writers drink.
I wrap my words in so much shit if I washed away most of it, the rawness of what is left would only scratch the surface of what is true. I never fully arrive. It’s agonizing, like rashes, they itch, and I scratch them until they bleed but the paresthesia is never satisfied. You know what I mean?
Some days I delete everything I write. Not one word is worth repeating. I toss my notebook across the room, it’s as if I am rejecting myself, and I’m thrown back to elementary school where it was a daily fight to belong.
It’s part of the deal, it’s the burden we carry, gutted by depletion we struggle on.
Then there are the good days when everything flows as if a gentle stream trickling through a secret garden. These are the stakes that keep everything in place. But I’m camping on private land, signs posted “No Trespassing,” and this is how I understand grace. It’s undeserved.
Today I’m writing with the computer on my lap, still in bed, with a cup of lukewarm coffee at my side. I’m already late with this post, I wrote the words above yesterday, I was clearly in a mood. Today, I’m picking through the words as if a pizza with anchovies that I asked for on the side. I can’t figure out where I was going and why I ordered an entire pie for myself?
Details, land rights, pulled up stakes? What the hell. Yesterday I had a direction but clearly, I’ve misplaced the map and now I’m standing in the middle of a post and have no idea where it’s going. Shit.
I slip out of the warm covers, make the incredibly short trek to the kitchen, but this time I refuse to open the refrigerator, I have the contents memorized, and besides there is nothing there that will satisfy my craving. I need a different sort of propellant.
I consider crawling back to my room just to be dramatic but I think better of it as the floors haven’t been mopped in a while.
Slipping into the still warm covers, I go back to the first line, which is usually where I stash my agenda and read it again, “Tedious, tiresome or monotonous, deadly dull, and honestly, that is the life of a writer.”
It's my utmost privilege and honor to introduce one of my favorite authors, Laurie Buchanan, of the infamous Tuesdays With Laurie, numerous inspirational novels, and not to brag, but she’s also an engaging public speaker. I know, she’s the complete package, but like all good plots, there’s a twist to her story, something you would never expect…
Read on.
Laurie’s earliest memories mimic my own, that of a devoted mother diligently reading to young Laurie and her sister, thus creating an avid reader in the process. Laurie was beyond thrilled to see her very own name printed on a library card which she used every Saturday morning, gathering new material to “devour during the week.” This love of reading is what prompted Laurie to become a writer.
Why can't people just sit and read books and be nice to each other? David Baldacci
I offer my praise and thanks to all the parents out there exposing their children to good literature and creating “readers” in the process.
THE BUSINESS OF BEING: SOUL PURPOSE IN AND OUT OF THE WORKPLACE shows you how to thrive, soul side out, regardless of where you are.
NOTE TO SELF: A SEVEN-STEP PATH TO GRATITUDE AND GROWTH closes the gap between where you are and where you want to be.
Laurie is a retired holistic health practitioner and transformational life coach. Of course, she is because her first two books listed above are non-fiction and reflect her practices in health and well-being.
Here’s where it gets weird, some of Laurie's favorite authors include David Baldacci, Hank Phillippi Ryan, Robert Dugoni, Keith Houghton, and Robert Bryndza. Have you guessed the genre?
Robert Dugoni says, “We live for the quiet, intimate moments that mark not our calendars but our hearts.” I can see why she’s attracted to this author.
Laurie developed an unexpected passion for suspense and thriller novels. Who knew? After writing two nonfiction books, she wanted to try her hand at fiction - in the genre she enjoyed reading! I say bravo Laurie.
Laurie’s next book, INDELIBLE: A SEAN MCPHERSON NOVEL, BOOK ONE, launches a suspense/thriller series that takes place in the Pacific Northwest. When asked what it's like, she says, "imagine Chief Inspector Gamache meets The Last Mrs. Parrish." Yowza!
I love this about Laurie, she says, “my primary audience is readers who enjoy a ticking-time-bomb of simmering tension with no downtime.” This feels much like my life at the current moment!
Outside of her mission to inspire her audiences, she chooses to be “a positive, uplifting, constructive, and healing influence in the lives of those she touches.”
Her author-side aims to “it’s to scare the living daylights out of her readers.” I don't know about you but I captured by the charisma of this talented writer.
I’m sort of nosey so I asked Laurie how she connects with other authors, Laurie says, “whether I’m a presenter, or in the audience, I make a point of connecting with other authors at writing conferences. I also connect with authors on social media: Twitter, Facebook, and my favorite social media platform, Instagram. Why? Because it's uplifting to connect with like-minded people.” Do you love her or what?
When asked about the importance of research in her writing Laurie says, "for her recent Sean McPherson novel research was critical. She met with Vickie Gooch, a detective in the Major Crimes Unit of the Idaho State Police, and Rylene Nowlin, a DNA Specialist at the Idaho State Police Crime Lab, and finally Dr. Glen Groben, a forensic pathologist." This woman does her due diligence and I'm sure that will be revealed in her latest work.
Next to her desk, she keeps a dog-eared copy of Forensic Speak: How to Write Realistic Crime Dramas, by Jennifer Dornbush, who says, “Want to find a suspect? Start with your kin.” Oh, that’s rich.
Laurie writes in a small studio, two walls of which are windows that offer an inspirational view, I’m so jealous and yet immensely grateful she has this stunning environment in which to create. Win, win.
Attending and speaking at writing conferences continues to strengthen and stretch Laurie as a writer. She has an excellent writing mentor, Christine DeSmet of the Writers’ Institute at UW-Madison. She’s a “tour de force for all things literary and makes me a stronger writer.”
Laurie retired at the end of 2019 and currently writes full-time. Her Sean McPherson novels are her primary area of focus, but she is also a monthly contributor to the online magazine, Unbound Northwest, not to mention her hi-traffic blog, Tuesdays with Laurie, that has over a million views.
When I asked Laurie, “what does literary success look like to you?” She said, “literary honors are nice, and I’ve won them. But to me, if one - just one - reader answers the question, ‘Who is your favorite author?’ with ‘Laurie Buchanan,’ then I consider myself a successful author.”
I asked her how essential or burdensome social media was with respect to the promotion and publicity of her work? Honestly, I find the whole process exhausting and laborious but Laurie says, “I stay active on social media. Part of a writer’s success is having a strong writing platform, and part of that platform includes visibility and influence on social media. If I could only post on one social media network, it would, without a doubt, be Instagram.” That was really intriguing to me because I barely use Instagram, so I recently followed Laurie, and plan to emulate her marketing plan.
Laurie says it takes about a year (sometimes longer) for an author to write a book. If you read a book and enjoy it, the best thank you that you can give an author is to write a brief review and post it on Amazon, Goodreads, and BookBub (just cut and paste the same one). Most people don’t understand how important reviews are—they’re an author's lifeblood.
The review can be as simple as one sentence: “I like the book because _____.”
Laurie Buchanan is a former holistic health practitioner and transformational life coach. She holds a doctorate in holistic health with an emphasis in energy medicine. Her first two books—Note to Self: A Seven-Step Path to Gratitude and Growth, and The Business of Being: Soul Purpose In and Out of the Workplace, are nonfiction titles designed to motivate, inspire, and transform. Coming soon, her third book, Indelible: A Sean McPherson Novel, Book One, launches a suspense/thriller series that takes place in the Pacific Northwest.
When I'm not writing for Across The Board, I'm Living in the Gap, drop by any time.
As a writer, I have struggled with imposter syndrome ever since I hit the publish button on my first blog. My husband yelled from the office, "you misspelled corral," and I about fainted. They'll know, they'll all know, I have no idea what I'm doing!
"You don't know how to spell." I lamented.
"Who do you think you are?"
"Nobody wants to read what you're writing."
"You're not an expert."
Even worse.
"You'll look like a fool."
Megan Culter says, "I gave up my agency. I had put power over my passions into the hands of unknown, unseen strangers. I had allowed the fear of failure to bar the way." Our fear of looking like a fool is one of the most powerful gatekeepers to the future we envision. We would rather play it safe than risk looking vacuous?
These are the tapes that play in my head every time I'm ready to publish a new blog. I feel as if I need some sort of validation outside myself to give me permission to put my work out in the world. Why are these thoughts so pervasive?
“I have challenged fate to chess and am now attempting to keep all my confidence from puddling in my boots. What if I’m the only one betting on myself because everyone but me can see I am not suited to play at all?” Mackenzi Lee
I have to ask myself what if no one ever read a word I wrote?
Does it ultimately matter?
I tell myself so what. I would still write because when I stop writing my life doesn't work. I don't know who I am and I struggle to find the significance of living a chaotic and complicated life. It's like "holding my breath forever," says Megan Culter. Life and my search for meaning force me back to the keyboard again and again. I inhale with every note, exhale as words form on the page, and only then do I recognize myself in that which I observe from a distance.
Some writers only feel this sort of insecurity on occasion, but other writers have to live with this sense of inadequacy for their entire career as if an agitated companion who continually scans for the negative, and has no qualms about exploiting your failings at every opportunity. I say divorce that dude and move on.
You would think that after an author had experienced some measure of success as a writer, (published a successful novel, received an acclaimed award, or was hired to write for a prestigious magazine) that they would leave these doubts behind? But the reality for many writers, no matter the endorsements, is that feelings of incompetence stubbornly remain.
So how do we keep imposter syndrome at bay?
I have read that regular exercise can help, along with practices of meditation, or yoga (although I resist all of these when I'm in the middle of an IS episode). I suppose what's most important is for you to recognize when you're being lured away by imposter syndrome that you get back on track as quickly as possible. I make a pot of coffee, call my sister who is my biggest fan, browse through old cookbooks for something new to cook. And for whatever reason that always makes my writing appear more appealing!
Do what works for you, we're all different, one of my writing friends likes to garden when her thoughts are chocked with IS weeds, another goes for a run as if she could distance herself from her thoughts. I eat. Whatever.
“When you know you're ENOUGH! When you stop focusing on all things that you're not. When you stop fussing over perceived flaws. When you remove all imposed and unbelievable expectations on yourself. When you start celebrating yourself more. When you focus on all that you are. When you start believing that your perceived flaws are just that - perception...” Malebo Sephodi
Where does this come from?
Studies have shown that imposter syndrome can sometimes have its roots in childhood experiences. For example, maybe a teacher once said you were a terrible writer or a parent criticized your early attempts at authoring a short story? Bruce Watson says relentless criticism in childhood can internalize parental scorn that no amount of success will silence. It's possible to get to the core of these issues by seeing a therapist who can help with the tools we need to overcome these early experiences or move beyond their reach.
I remember watching a movie with Robert Redford and Barbara Streisand, they were taking a college course on writing, and both were working on an essay as the final in which the professor would select the best one to read to the class. Robert won the contest and I remember watching Barbara, completely devastated as she ripped up her paper, and threw it in the trash. That's what happens when we allow imposter syndrome to take possession of our thoughts, it's extremely destructive and crippling as a writer.
Is this common to all creative types?
Yes! Actors, painters, dancers, writers, singers all experience "the unshakable conviction that you are getting away with something and that any moment now they will discover you. It's imposter syndrome, something my wife christened the Fraud Police," says Neil Gaiman. Even Emma Watson from the acclaimed Harry Potter films says, "any moment, someone's going to find out I'm a total fraud." But just like Harry Potter, you have the power to overcome these negative forces in your creative life, but it might leave a scar.
Nava Atlas adds, “you'll be amazed how much you have in common with Edith Wharton (who struggled to feel worthy of success), Louisa May Alcott (who badly needed money), Madaleine L'Engle (who could have papered an entire house with her rejection letters) and many other writers.”
What if it's true?
The only truth is that creative types have fluctuating careers, ups and downs, successes and failures. This is the reality in which we exist and it's like cat-nip for imposter syndrome. When you're up you think it's a fluke and when you're down you blame yourself. This is IS's main talent, they have us chasing after some unattainable ideal, resulting in disappointment and defeat. As Elsa says in Frozen, "let it go."
What can I do to fight this affliction?
I use every distraction in my arsenal. When I sense these feelings creeping in through the window of my mind, I open it wide, stick my head out and yell, "I'm mad as hell and I'm not going to take it anymore." Try it. It works.
Sometimes I stop and ask myself how my work can benefit others? Usually, that's enough to chase the boogeyman away. Basically, it's getting out of my own head, my own thoughts, and considering the needs of others. It's amazing how fast that clarifies and validates my work.
Try doing something completely new. I tried painting and immediately felt the icy claws of IS take hold of my thoughts. I believe I even said out loud, "I hate painting, I'm horrible at this, why am I doing this?" What a whinner! My sister-in-law had set up this perfect evening, where five of us sat around the dining room table, sipping wine, and painting our vision of Mt. Konocti on blank canvases. I felt so insecure it was almost ludicrous. But I kept at it, and by the end of the evening, I had a decent painting of this majestic mountain and a new appreciation for the strength of IS especially when we're trying something new or outside our comfort zone.
The better you get at recognizing the destructive powers of imposter syndrome the better you'll be at chasing it away, or at the very least diminishing its effect.
What do you do when you feel insecure about your writing? Share a few thoughts in the comments, sort of like introducing your insecurities to mine.
“Some years ago, I was lucky enough invited to a gathering of great and good people: artists and scientists, writers and discoverers of things. And I felt that at any moment they would realize that I didn’t qualify to be there, among these people who had really done things.
On my second or third night there, I was standing at the back of the hall, while a musical entertainment happened, and I started talking to a very nice, polite, elderly gentleman about several things, including our shared first name. And then he pointed to the hall of people, and said words to the effect of, “I just look at all these people, and I think, what the heck am I doing here? They’ve made amazing things. I just went where I was sent.”
And I said, “Yes. But you were the first man on the moon. I think that counts for something.”
And I felt a bit better. Because if Neil Armstrong felt like an imposter, maybe everyone did. Maybe there weren’t any grown-ups, only people who had worked hard and also got lucky and were slightly out of their depth, all of us doing the best job we could, which is all we can really hope for.” Neil Gaiman
Sometimes I feel as if I beat to a wildly different drum than that of my peers. Have you ever felt this way? As a creative person I'm drawn to solitude, quiet, even boredom in my search for inspiration. I'm partial to natural environments such as lakes, mountains, and the ocean. A cup of coffee within reach, simple keyboard at hand, maybe a book or two as my muse. I'm happy to lose myself for hours in this way, there is no remorse, I lose track of time, motivated by a unrequited longing to write. I'm not searching for mere words but a meaningful story structured to transfigure the reader.
Agape love is...profound concern for the well-being of another, without any desire to control that other, to be thanked by that other, or to enjoy the process. Madeleine L'Engle
I admit it, when I'm writing I want to brush up against that sacred hem, I'll crawl on my belly if I have to, brave the restless crowds for a singular moment of clarity. Madeleine L' Engle says, "to be an artist means to approach the light, and that means to let go our control, to allow our whole selves to be placed with absolute faith in that which is greater than we are." There is no other way to explain it or justify this wayward preoccupation with the written word. It's one of the most radical vocations I can think of pursuing. Yet I do.
The purpose of this work is to either shift the view of the reader or connect in a profoundly intimate way, as if a textual binocular, one that magnifies, broadens, or at the very least focuses ones view. If not, then what is the purpose? Stories, good ones, are what we pack for the journey, they turn our feet in new directions, give one courage to take that first step into the unknown.
I'm adept at stalling, as if a clogged catalytic converter, or one who lacks power when attempting to accelerate. Why do I think I must have all the answers before I begin to write? Some of my google searches are absolutely insane. What the hell is that all about? "There is no denying that the artist is someone who is full of questions, who cries them out in great angst, who discovers rainbow answers in the darkness, and then rushes to paper, "claims Madeleine L' Engle.
I have shelves all over the house, shelves that not only hold books, but trinkets, items that when cradled in my hand "spark joy in my heart." I like to rearrange these things on occasion. I call it putzing. This is the same thing I do when writing. I search for order in the chaos, a rhyme to the beat of a defiant drum, the perfect simile to right the disorder, to clarify some obscure concept, one that "sparks joy" when I find the perfect word. Am I the only one who can hear this persistent beat, as if the words are creating their own rhythm?
Writing requires discipline. Damn. If I only work when the feeling strikes there would be no blog to speak of, no body of work to look back on, no conflict with my time. I have these rituals I use to settle into the work. I check on my social media accounts, repeatedly, bouncing back and forth from the blank page to twitter, from the desk to the coffee pot, from the fork to the refrigerator.
Then I decide to file my nails, heat up some soup, grab a sweatshirt, start a load of laundry, scour the kitchen sink. You get the picture. Eventually I run out of distractions, settle into the work, and before you know it I find myself walking on the surface of the pond, panicked, overwhelmed, when something takes my hand, and I'm rescued from a sure drowning. I lose track of time more then I'll admit, I forget to think, and instead I start writing what I hear. It's extraordinary.
At this time in my life, I cannot afford to be sidetracked by the trivial. If I am going to write about people, there needs to be some depth, some honor, something bothering on nobility. And that's what I found in the lives of [people] whose love for others propels me to love deeper. Phil Callaway
The morning after one of these obscure writing sessions, I start looking around for an exorcist, only to be dumbfounded by the words that landed on the page. "The impossible still happens, often during the work, sometimes when we are so tired that inadvertently we let down all the barriers we have built up. We lose our adult skepticism and become once again children who can walk down their grandmother's winding stairs without touching," Madeleine L' Engle. For me, that's as good as it gets.
How about you? Add a few "confessions of a writer" in the comments. Is it love or merely infatuation?
When I'm not writing for Across the Board, I'm Living in the Gap, drop by anytime, we'll rearrange the trinkets on the shelves.
We're a diverse group of writers, ranging from kidlit to adult. What is the one thing we all have in common? The love of a good story. Welcome, and thanks for stopping by. We'll see you on Mondays & Thursdays!
