I am a writer.
Urgh, I feel silly.
No seriously, how do you not?
I should get used to it. I am and have been for the best part of 8 years a copy-writer. It’s only a type of writer, right? But I still can’t get used to it.
When people ask what I do, I deflect. Me? A writer? Us? Writers? Nah, I say. We’ve got a book coming soon. Just a little thing. Nothing fancy. Then I quickly add, before I can stop myself, that we’re already writing the second book of the series. Just for lols, you know.
Here’s the thing, though: They don’t know, but still I am embarrassed to say I am a writer.
The Never-Ending Writer Imposter Syndrome
Not everyone feels like an imposter in their position. But the imposter feels like a fraud no matter where they are or what they do. It’s a superpower. Not a useful one, mind you. No, instead it’s the kind of superpower that does your head in.
Should I even be telling people what I do? They are others who do it better. Do I even know what I’m doing? Probably not; most people seem to know what’s going on.
Or at least, this is what I used to think. Most people are probably just as confused and lost as I am. Why wouldn’t they? This is their first try at life too!
As a writer, feeling like a fraud is almost a natural consequence of your activity.
Why?
Glad you’ve asked. Let me share with you some of the most common comments I’ve heard each time I explained that I wanted to write:
- It’s not a real job.
- Do you have the qualifications?
- This is not for you.
- You’re not going to be the next J.K. Rowling.
In other words, the people who have your best interests at heart are trying to convince you that writers don’t contribute to society or the economy, that you need to follow a specific study paths to write, that it’s best to leave it to others, and that you don’t compare to author X, Y, or Z.
So, of course, it’s hard not to feel inadequate.
But it’s the truth. As a writer, you are inadequate as long as you haven’t found your readers. As a yet-to-be published writer, inadequacy becomes your shadow.
The Imposter Syndrome is Bollocks
It’s funny when you think about it.
The UK publishing sector made £7.1 billion in 2023. Over 7 billion pounds, that doesn’t exactly sound like not a real job to me. Yet, a lot of people would still argue that writing cannot be a real job.
They are not entirely wrong, of course. A writing career isn’t necessarily profitable for all. But it doesn’t mean it couldn’t be a job. It could be a side career. But stop telling me it isn’t a thing.
Qualifications? Honestly, I still don’t get that comment. Why would you need qualifications to write? What qualifications did Antoine de St-Exupery have as a writer? Or Sir Arthur Conan Doyle? Or Miguel de Cervantes? Or even Franz Kakfa? The answer is none. Yet, I personally am grateful they didn’t let the lack of writer qualifications stop them from creating stories that forever live in our memories.
This isn’t for you. Let me rage profusely. Why isn’t it for me? Why should I leave to others what I so dearly want to do myself? Also, I note that, for some reasons, those who claim something isn’t for you are not going to let you decide what is and isn’t in fact for you.
Take tidying, for example. This is 100% one of the things that I would put in the “not for me” category. Not that I don’t try, but things are either in plain sight where I can find them or they disappear forever inside the tidy world where I can never find them again. Putting things back where they belong is an impossible task because that would imply they had a specific place.
Nothing was worse than Christmas morning where younger me received a lot of new items that didn’t have a previous place on any of my shelves… The only place I knew for sure they belonged to was in the middle of the lounge by the Christmas tree. Yet, I wouldn’t recommend trying to argue the point that tidying isn’t for you. For some reason, people are not as convinced by this argument than by the “writing isn’t for you” thing. Go figure.
You’re not going to be the next this or that. Why would I want to be the next someone else when I can just be me? Why should I have to be like a specific author when I have other stories to tell? Why should I define whether I am worthy to write by how much I am like a famous author?
Still Why Don’t I Like Saying I Am A Writer?
Is there ever going to be an answer to the question? I believe saying you are a writer out loud opens the door to comparisons and expectations from others. Ultimately, everyone compares you to what a writer looks like to them.
Naturally, our understanding of what makes a writer who they are differs. This is the point. There are many different readers and, as such, there should be many different writers too.
So, of course, there’s a sense of embarrassment because the moment I say I am a writer, I am exposing myself to being judged, by others and also by myself. The moment I admit to myself that I write is the moment my inner critic wakes up.
“Wait a minute,” it says “you don’t look like the writer I thought you would be.”
“Shut up,” I reply. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
And that’s true. I don’t know. I’ve never been a writer before, let alone a writer in my shoes. And nor have you, so if you too you are embarking on the writing adventure, give yourself some slack. You are a writer, no matter what they say.