Writer’s Block and My Tackle – Overcoming Imposter Syndrome
I always thought writer’s block meant blank pages and tufts of hair yanked out from stifled thoughts. My situation was different. I knew what to say. But some malevolent force was preventing me from continuing. This is a story about my first, and I hope last, experience with that debilitating situation, and how I overcame it.
I was writing a book about critical thinking. For thirty years, I had studied how to teach critical thinking and ways to apply it in the classroom. I’d presented workshops and published papers on the subject. The publisher had accepted the proposal and set a deadline. I was jazzed. I collected all my research, fired up my laptop, and opened a blank document: Chapter One.
Oh, my goodness, I said to myself as I pounded away. This is such interesting stuff!
Then, without notice, a malaise crept over me like a San Francisco fog. Before long I was enveloped in a miasma of doubt. A menacing presence hovered over me. The voices were indistinct, but the feeling weighed on me.
The next morning, I shuffled stoop shouldered to my computer. Unable to write, I lined up my sharpened my pencils first horizontally by length then vertically by eraser length. Then I alphabetized my books and deleted emails. I think I even organized the paper bags under my sink. All the while those voices were getting louder and louder. I almost did quit.
“Then, without notice, a malaise crept over me like a San Francisco fog. Before long I was enveloped in a miasma of doubt. A menacing presence hovered over me. ”
Then it occurred to me to take dictation on what those voices were saying. Let me see their comments in print, I thought, instead of having them rattle around in my head. The printed word was my turf.
I gasped when I read the statements some days later: You’re not smart enough to write this book, and You’d better leave this to the men who are experts. In short, I was a nobody, an imposter, a lightweight, a dilettante.
I was astounded at their certitude, dismissiveness, and condescension. Suddenly, I felt my spine return and began putting them on the defensive: Who are you to tell me what I can and cannot write? If I don’t write this book, then who will?
Dear reader, I finished the book and am proud of it.
Critical Thinking Now by Nancy Burkhalter
But there is an interesting follow-up to report. I asked a colleague, who had written a book about critical thinking, to write my foreword. He was well known in the field, and I liked his ideas. He was the perfect person to lend gravitas to my work. He agreed to look at my manuscript.
Several weeks later, I received an email. The subject line read: “Unwilling to write foreword.” He listed several complaints that sounded a lot like what those voices were saying on my patio.
It shook me anew to see such an uncharitable rejection of my ideas. But by this time, I had already conquered my internal critics, so I was ready to club them senseless and get on with my writing. I concluded that this book was my gift to the world. It was what I had to say about the topic. I rejected him and the horse he rode in on.
So, my advice is this: If you think you are an imposter as a writer, don’t fall prey to such prattle, whether internal or external. No one can write your book/article/poem, etc., except you. Negative comments can bombard you from agents, teachers, well-meaning friends, etc. They may stop you cold. So, tackle that writer’s block by writing down what they say. Then tell them to go fly a kite, then keep going. I mean it. KEEP GOING!
About the Author
Nancy Burkhalter is an educator, writer, journalist, linguist, and piano tuner. She is the author of The Education of Delhomme: Chopin, Sand, and La France. Burkhalter holds a Master’s degree in journalism and English education as well as a Doctorate in linguistics from the University of New Mexico. She has taught composition for many years in the U.S., Germany, Saudi Arabia, Kazakhstan, and Russia. Her overseas work led to an interest in comparative education, especially critical thinking. Both observations and research led to her book and blog, Critical Thinking Now.
Photo Credit: Austin Irving
