Woody Week Day One: Imposter Syndrome

It’s Woody Week, and naturally, our first post must be about imposter syndrome. I’ve known and worked with thousands of writers in my lifetime. Very few of them would call themselves writers, even if they do this as a profession. I rarely call myself a writer either. When people ask what I do, I say, “I write.” I rarely say, “I’m a writer” because those three words make me feel intensely uncomfortable. How dare I declare myself a part of this premium team, even if I’m widely published and frequently commissioned?

They say the word “writer” isn’t a label, but a verdict. Only others can declare you worthy of the title, yet those of us who’ve been declared worthy thousands of times still struggle to self-label.

Writing requires us to exist in highly subjective terrain. We spew our truths onto page upon page because we have no other truths to write about. We lend from our own experiences and tastes, so it’s well-nigh impossible to truly see your own value. To be a writer is to feel like an eternal imposter. One day, the world will finally realise I’m not a writer. I firmly believe this, but I also know better.

Imposter syndrome affects all of us, even greats like T.S Eliot and Sylvia Plath. Both of those poets suffered from an obscene amount of self-doubt. Plath spent a lifetime wondering if she’d ever make it and if she truly had the skills she wished for. As for Eliot, his poet friends had to strongarm him into quitting his job to take his writing career seriously.

If you feel you’re not a writer, you look an awful lot like a writer.
If you have imposter syndrome, you have the very syndrome most writers have.
If you doubt the value you can bring to the page, you’re engaging in a thought process typical of writers.
Most importantly, if you write, you’re a writer. This is the kind of membership you get by walking in the door.

That doesn’t mean you’re a good or publishable writer, but most beginners are terrible at everything, even writing. Given enough time, work, and input, you will evolve into a publishable writer. Talent matters, of course, but you’d be surprised how much value you can bring to the page without it. In writing, you can fake it if you know enough about the craft. Just don’t tell anyone I said that. They will hunt me down and kill me.