It’s Queer the Shelves next week and I know because I’m counting down the days. Being invited onto the panel of new authors has been the most exciting opportunity I’ve had all year; it’s also filled me with so much imposter syndrome that I’ve spent an hour trying to finish this sentence. When I was asked to write a 4,000 word short story for Sapphic Eclectic I was all over it. But 400 words on ‘what it means to be a storyteller’? Total paralysis! Couldn’t get a word on the page. So, like a fool, I’ve spent the past week in search of a cure for this syndrome. Here are my findings:
Firstly, I turned to a friend. I told her I felt like a fraud and an idiot calling myself a ‘storyteller’. I was hoping for sympathy. Instead, she pointed to the spreadsheet I use to track my daily writing schedule and confirmed that, yes, I was being an idiot, but I was also undeniably telling stories. I looked at my (beautiful) graphs and I thought: nah.
Aren’t storytellers supposed to be magical? Magic’s for other people, not me.
So, I turned to other blogs. Good lord, what a mistake: a deluge of talented, worldly, brilliant writers. Awards won, readers connected with, breakthroughs made. I was screwed! I’d never done any of this! Surely all these authors had burst onto the scene, fully formed, and had never had any insecurities ever. Again, I kept asking: what do you think you’re doing? Leave this to the professionals.
Finally I came back to the place I’d been avoiding: this blank page. Only by putting one word in front of the other does the problem become blindingly obvious: imposter syndrome is a starvation of confidence. It plagues you with ‘not _____ enough’ statements and it belittles the belief your friends have in you and it stops you from seeing all these talented people in your community as, y’know, people.
So that’s my cure for imposter syndrome: keep on keeping on. In other breaking news water’s still wet, but I think this might be a lesson everyone has to teach themselves at some point. So if you’re reading this and no one’s ever told you: if you tell stories, you’re a storyteller. The magic isn’t just for other people. It’s for all of us.
Butterworth Books 