Back in mid-March, I received an email every writer longs to get. You know, the one that starts with “Your story has been accepted…” and follows up with said writer’s utter disbelief. My personal favorite story, “Doran” had been accepted by Allegory Magazine for publication in their May issue! And there was even token payment involved! I didn’t scream. I did shout at my family very loudly and very excitedly.
You would think that would solve that imposter syndrome, that finally having a story published would make me go, “Yes, I am a talented writer.” Instead, even as I signed the contract, wrote up and sent them a bio (I hate writing those by the way, and should you go read the story, I almost want to hear what you think of the bio more), and waited for publication day, I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. For the magazine to fold, for the editor to tell me it was a mistake and they meant the other story about a swamp child by the other J. M. Bask. But nope, my story got published (and yes, it’s at that link up there).
But the imposter syndrome is still here. My brain is convinced no one has read it. My brain is convinced no one will publish anything else of mine.
And you know what I do? I tell my brain to STFU. It doesn’t work, not really. Those thoughts come creeping back. Every time I send out a story it tries to tell me I’m wasting my time. Every time I pick up a pen to work on my novel, it literally asks, Why are you doing this? I can’t get it to shut up, but sometimes, if I shout back loud enough–Because I want to! Because I AM good at this!–that stupid part of my brain that wants to see me fail will at least go hide in a corner for a little while. And if that’s enough for me to keep going, then I’ll take it.