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Honestly, all I can think about as I write this is that new AmongUs game because so many people keep talking about it. But I'm not talking about that kind of imposter. I'm talking about imposter syndrome as a writer, which, frankly, is so much worse. If you don't know what I'm talking about and have never experienced it... I don't know what to say. Send me an email or something and teach me your secrets.
But for those of you who are like me, those of us who find ourselves suddenly drowning in a flood of doubt about anything we've ever done, let's keep going with this discussion. When I think of my own experiences with imposter syndrome, two writers immediately come to mind. Before we get any further, I just want to clarify that I have no negative feelings towards these writers. In fact, they only come to mind because I see them as so successful, so impressive, so admirable, and so inspiring that, well, I'm intimidated. Kaitlyn Legaspi is the author of the Dark Irregular Trilogy, which she wrote and published at a young age (sound familiar?). Nearly every time I think about Kaitlyn and her trilogy, those thoughts are accompanied by the feeling that I, along with my trilogy, just don't measure up. This feeling comes straight from my own insecurities. Maybe there is some way to objectively prove which trilogy is better. But does that matter? (I'll give you the answer here: no... but more on that later.) Madison Siwak runs a successful blog all about writing. She creates the most helpful and impressive posts, hosts interviews and guest posts, and (here's what's really impressive to me) has a plan, a schedule, and consistent, reliable posts. Also, she's an incredible writer. Do I need to explain why I'm intimidated by her, or are you getting the picture here? Here's what I've found to be the bottom line with imposter syndrome: we look at someone else and are suddenly confronted with the idea that they are everything we are not. My insecurities tell me that in terms of length and complexity, Kaitlyn's trilogy does have a lot that the Prophecy War Trilogy doesn't (they never seem to remember that my books are written for a completely different age group). My uncertainty reminds me that I don't have a successful, consistent website or blog like Madison (when I'm in that mindset, it's never enough to be happy that I have a website that I'm proud of). I fall miserably short of being Kaitlyn or Madison. But interestingly enough, they can't be me either. And the thing is... I'm just trying to be me, so how could I ever be an imposter? To wrap this all up, even at the risk of sounding super cliché... be yourself! After all, there's no one else who can be you.
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Disney Princesses- they're the best, right? Most people love watching Disney movies for the nostalgia, the fun, the music, whatever. And Disney princesses are so lovable with their beautiful dresses and catchy songs. But in my obsession with Disney and princesses and fairy tales, I've discovered that there's a lot more to love than that, and deeper, more inspirational things about being a Disney princess. That's why my goal for this month is to live more like a Disney princess. Please allow me to present my reasoning and also assure you that the end of the semester hasn't compromised my sanity completely.
Let's start with the singing. I feel like people and society today don't appreciate singing and the rest of the arts nearly enough. I can assure you, it's not just for the professionals. I started playing the piano in tenth grade just because I wanted to. I taught myself, so I'm no professional, but I love it. Same thing with drawing. I draw my characters all the time, and find that process enjoyable. I started painting recently. I'm not very good at it, but I like it. This is my point here: who says you have to be great at something to do it? Lesson number one of being a Disney princess: make beautiful things, even if no one else finds them beautiful. Onto my next point. Disney princesses are always kind. Not nice, which is bland and weak, but kind, which is strong and wonderful and persistent (there's a poem about that here: instagram.com/p/By01-2Sn-U8/ ). Kindness is a lost value partly because it's so hard and partly because people don't see the benefit of it. But it's such a powerful thing. Studies have shown that even plants grow better when they are treated kindly... imagine how that works with people. I started growing plants recently, and I make a point to treat them with care and kindness because maybe they'll grow better but also because, I don't know, maybe I'll grow better. So lesson number two is this: always be kind to everything. And finally, Disney princesses are always having adventures and discovering magic. If you think adventures and magic don't exist in our world, then you're not looking hard enough. Maybe it's not the same, but it's still there. Walk a different route than you usually take and see what you find. Don't rush to get out of the rain or snow, but let it sink into you (maybe there's magic in those snowflakes that you can't see just yet). And if you can't find magic or adventure, make some yourself. Send a stranger a genuine smile. Give gifts. Spread love. You are the magic. Here's the third lesson: life is more than you think. Find the adventure. So go ahead, be a Disney princess. I'm gonna try it out, too. It's going to be a good month.  I would like to begin by saying that while I am a fantasy writer, and while I do often embellish what happens in life to make it more interesting to read, this story is completely true.
It was supposed to be a quick weekend trip to Gettysburg, Pennsylvania with my two closest friends. They wanted to see their younger brother, and I wanted to find an adventure (in literature this would be foreshadowing, but in real life it's just called not knowing what's about to hit you). The trip began exactly as planned. We made it down to a college about two hours away from Gettysburg in time to watch their brother play lacrosse. It was when we got back in the car that things started to very much not go as planned. We heard a grinding noise first, and then a squeaking. When the car began to wobble, we immediately pulled over to the side of the highway. Fast forward through some very confusing phone calls, a ride in a truck that required us to practically sit on top of each other, and about two hours of waiting, and we were sitting in a Mavis Discount Tire waiting for a mechanic who had offered to give us a ride to the Philadelphia airport. The plan was to rent a car at the airport, drive the two remaining hours to Gettysburg, and carry on with our trip. That's not exactly what happened. We got to the Philadelphia airport only to discover that we couldn't rent a car without a credit card (which, of course, we didn't have). By this point, our mechanic friend had continued on his way home after we insisted that he didn't have to stay to help us. The car rental worker that we talked to had said we could stay as long as we wanted, so we naturally took up temporary residence there until we could figure out what to do. We stayed for a little over an hour, eating snacks and talking, until we were picked up by a transportation service to take us back to the town where the car was being fixed. The ride to our newly reserved hotel room was spent confusing our driver with the tale of how we got to that particular point in our trip and going to the wrong address before finally arriving at our destination. Once we checked into our hotel room, we realized that we hadn't eaten since 7 o'clock that morning and it was now 10 at night. So, we had a very nice dinner at the hotel restaurant that we ate in mostly stunned silence. Of course, our adventure for that day was apparently still not over, and before we settled into our room, we were met with a horde of rambunctious thirteen-year-old boys. They said they were there for a variety of eating competitions (we're still not sure if that was true). They also said I looked like a slow runner (I know for sure that one's true). Finally, we collapsed onto our beds and went to sleep... still two hours from Gettysburg. We woke up the next morning, planning to leave around 10 because that was when the mechanics had said our car would be done. However, we were given a ride to the shop around noon with the explanation that the parts for the car were not in yet. The parts didn't arrive until 2 o'clock, and after three hours of work (and a few other complications with the car that I can't describe because I don't know enough about cars) we were finally ready to go. I should add that absolutely none of this was the fault of the mechanics. They were incredibly helpful and positively angelic, but I guess the call for unexpected adventure was just too much that weekend. At this point, it was around 5:30 in the evening, but we still decided to make the two hour drive to Gettysburg and then drive five and a half hours home because, frankly, we hadn't come all that way to not actually get where we were planning on going. So, we drove to Gettysburg (a trip that was blessedly uneventful) and finally arrived at their brother's dorm building (where he greeted us with a very reasonable, "Why are you here?"). After spending about a half and hour there, we left Gettysburg to head home, planning on getting back to our own college at around 1:30 in the morning. At this point in the story, I'm not sure you'll even be surprised to learn that that didn't work out. Not long after we started our trip home, we found ourselves driving through a vicious rainstorm. It might have been a thunderstorm. I don't know because I couldn't hear or see anything except the rain. My mom informed me over the phone that we were in a tornado watch, a flood watch, and a flash flood warning. Naturally, we wanted to get off the road, but we were on a stretch of highway where the exits were few and far between. Eventually, we made our way off the highway to a hotel. We arrived at the hotel at 11:30 at night and slept until 4:30 the following morning. Then we were up and on the road again before 5 o'clock to get back to college at 8:30. And that was the end of our adventure. Like all good stories, this one does have a point (besides sharing the excitement with whoever finds themselves reading this). The point is this: that every day, every opportunity, every trip is what you make it. Our experience on this Gettysburg trip could have been hectic and miserable. But because we looked at the blessings, focused on each other's company, and enjoyed the adventure, it was a fantastic experience that I won't forget. I wouldn't trade this experience for any other because it brought me closer to my two best friends and showed me what a good adventure feels like. Adventure isn't always what you think it's going to be, but it's priceless nonetheless. One last note: the picture accompanying this story is part of the car resting in my hand. The mechanics gave us each one as a souvenir of our trip. "I want to talk about staying in a leaving culture," said the woman on the screen up front. And as I sat in my seat, I said a silent "amen." Finally, someone got it. Finally, someone wasn't telling me to move on. See the thing is, I recently had a friend who hurt me. She said and did some painful things, and I felt more than a little betrayed. Some of the people I talked to about my feelings told me that I should without a doubt move on and leave her in the past. Let her pay for her mistakes by never being in my life again. But deep down, I knew that wasn't right. So I stayed. I kept communication open. And she hurt me again. And again. Most of the people around me didn't even have to say anything for me to know that they thought I should just leave. I'd be lying if I said that wasn't a tempting option. But if your pet dog is injured, you don't just let it suffer, even if it snaps at you in its pain.
Of course, not everyone's situation is like mine, but I guess that's how I see it. No one's really that cruel without experiencing some sort of pain. And I'm not one to add to the pain by abandoning them. Maybe you think I'm crazy. Maybe you're more naive and think I'm a saint. I can tell you that I'm neither. But I have lived my life knowing and loving a God who forgives and cherishes me no matter what I do. I know I'm not perfect. I've made mistakes and hurt Him. The beautiful thing is, He has never abandoned me. Not even for a moment. So as an imperfect person who has been shown the greatest Love to ever exist, how can I not show at least a little love to the people around me? Yes, it can be painful. No, it's not easy. But no one ever said doing the right thing was easy. So I'll stay. I'll remain through the storms and battles and hurtful words because that's the kind of love and forgiveness that conquers fear, pain, and anger. Sometimes the bravest thing to do is just stay. Please excuse me while I make my experience this morning far more fantastic and magical than it actually was...
It all started with a light snowfall, a crow, and a college girl who wanted some breakfast. In case you were confused, that hungry girl was me, and I was heading over to campus this morning to get breakfast. It was cold, but not too harsh or frigid. The snow fell lightly in big, fluffy flakes- the kind that stick to your eyelashes and decorate your hair with a frosty crown. As my eyes lifted to watch the snowflakes dance on the light breeze, I saw a majestic crow perched on a signpost just ahead. Now, I usually don't use the word "majestic" to describe crows (I generally feel that "creepy" or "mysterious" describe them better), but this one was definitely majestic. Its feathers were a glossy black and ruffled slightly in the breeze that brushed over them. It made no sound, only stared down at me with inscrutable black eyes. And immediately, a story came to life in my mind. There was no longer just the crow. There was the illusive and beautiful sorceress staring at me through its eyes. There were spirits of wind and snow dancing around me on the snowflakes, reaching out to me with their magic. There was excitement and intrigue and centuries-old conspiracy all converging on me, the unlikely but brave heroine trekking through the wintery wilderness! And then I passed by the stoic crow and continued on to breakfast. Sometimes I think that maybe it's time to put an end to such intense products of an overactive imagination. That at almost 19 years old it's time to stop playing make-believe. But then again, why should I? The incredibly vast amount of fictional books published is evidence that stories are an integral part of being human. We, as humans, love to open ourselves up to the new experiences and people we find in the midst of stories. So why would I ever deny myself the thrill of discovering a new story in the recesses of my mind? Why ignore the craving I have for adventure, for something more than what's found on the surface of the world? Stories are how we make sense of the world around us. Life itself is a story that we are created for and placed purposefully in. So as strange as it may seem, I won't let go of my stories because I won't let the magic slip through my fingers and disappear.  A couple of years ago, my mom, who is a school librarian, went to a conference and was given this massive red book full of blank pages. Although other people at the conference may have had trouble determining what to do with that book, my mother knew just who to give it to: her book-loving, story-obsessed daughter. Sure enough, I unwrapped it for Christmas that year and, in a matter of seconds, knew exactly what I would use it for.
Characters. They're the meat and potatoes of a story. And they're so much fun! There have been so many times that I have been surprised by my characters, and by the end of my books, I'm always sad to say goodbye because they have become so dear to me. So I made a character book, complete with fancy headings and cursive lettering. I've used my limited artistic abilities to sketch out some of the characters included in it (they're not the best drawings, but since the book is just for me, I've decided I don't really care). It's nothing scheduled, nothing I have to get done. Just a little side project. But let me tell you, it's a good side project to have. First of all, I think it's important to spend time with your characters. The more you think about them, the more likely they are to develop in new and exciting ways. Readers don't want to waste time on flat, stilted characters. They want characters with depth, and characters with depth take time to grow. Second of all, it's inspiring! I have had quite a few periods of writer's block ended by spending some time being creative with my characters. Immersing myself in my story world for a little while really gets the juices flowing. Third of all, it's just fun. Writing should be fun! Creating worlds and characters and creatures is magical! Why not spend some time enjoying it? So that's my advice, from one writer to another. Make a fancy book for your characters... they deserve it, and you do, too. |
