Writing takes ego

So…what do you do when you’ve been introduced at a party by your cool popular friend?

If you’re like me, you duck your head, stare at the ground, and smile nervously: “Um, hi, everyone.” That’s me today. I’m so grateful to Shauna for urging me to start a blog, and chances are, if you’re reading this now, you’re here because of Shauna. (Or you’re one of my Facebook friends. Oh, and hi, Mom.) Welcome, each and every one.

But it does leave a certain amount of expectation: your friend’s cool, so you must be cool, too. Oh, the pressure.

I’ll be trying on different genres here (food writing’s up soon!), and I’ve got a number of blog assignments lined up. But for now the most comfortable genre, the one which gets me typing the fastest, is this one: the reflective, the notes-towards-my-memoir-project, the musings about this new writing life.

I’ve decided to write through the fear, and not apologize for this experimental space. I toyed with writing a separate entry about the first assignment. As in: “OK, yeah, I don’t think it worked, and here’s how, and I’m sorry that what you came for isn’t here, and ….”. This apology, of trying to speak for the work, is a no-no in writing workshops. I can see why.

Sounds like I’m back to some of my old writing neuroses, if not some of my old personality neuroses. This doesn’t mean that I won’t revisit that first assignment, and perhaps even post draft #6 of the poem, but as I retrain myself to think as a writer, I have wondered about my fear of writing. In my case I don’t think that fear is about writer’s block, or the inability to say something.

See, I used to apologize for myself ALL the time. You can ask my high school friends, my husband who I’ve known for more than half my life. I was Insanely Insecure Girl (IIG), the one who needed lots of ego uplift.
“Do these pants look terrible on me? I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry I keep order albuterol inhaler non prescription asking, but will I EVER find someone to love?”
If you met me about twenty years ago, I might not have met your eyes for longer than a second. Maybe two.

I didn’t realize how hard this trait was on my friends until I made friends with another IIG later on. Having to talk her up all the time was exhausting, to tell you the truth.
“No, those pants look really great on you.”
“Yes, you’ll find someone to love.”
And of course I did support her, and I did so sincerely. But I recognized some of myself in her, and tried to stop some of that insanity in myself, the incessant self-questioning and the hypercritical apology.

Happily, I’ve got both good pants AND the most wonderful person to love now. Not to equate the two. You know what I mean.

So this insecurity might have something to do with my latest theory: that writing, creative or argumentative —indeed, creating art at all—takes ego. By “ego,” I mean the belief I am Someone with Something Important to Say that Someone Else Would Want to Hear. And twenty years ago, ten years ago, perhaps even five years ago, it was hard for me to find that sense of ego.

[insert pause for soothing of a toddler nightmare. OK. Back to it]

Don’t believe me? Here’s a test: see all of those parenthetical phrases in my posts? They’re a stylistic tic. My dissertation reading group convinced me that I need to use parentheses less. (Doh! I’m still working on it, guys.) I adore parenthetical phrases, probably because of my first reading of this novel. And while I adore parenthetical phrases and their possibilities for multiple layered voices, sometimes the parentheticals represent me, trying to duck under my own words.

Now you see why I used that party analogy at the beginning of the post. I’ve been that girl.

Now I know I needed that kind of belief in myself in order to develop fully as a scholar, as a teacher, as a writer. And (gulp) now it’s here.

11 Replies to “Writing takes ego”

  1. thank goodness for shauna’s link! i truly enjoy reading your blog (perhaps because it’s soft and witty? perhaps reflects so many parts of myself? …says the parenthetical voice) and i look forward to many, many more entries!

  2. Every time I write a blog post, I have to slog through the self-doubt, the wondering if I should just be a blog reader and not writer. Then I take a few days off from writing blog posts but I can’t stop thinking about what I want to write next. I hope you can continue to push forward and enjoy the process. I did happen on your blog from a link on the Gluten Free Girl but I have returned because I too love the writing process so thanks for jumping out there.

  3. As a fellow IIG in recovery, I applaud your efforts here and know just what you mean. Being creative DOES take ego. I hadn’t thought of it like that before, but that must be my biggest hurdle in letting out the things I have inside. Best of luck on your journey! You are on the right track, for sure. 🙂

  4. Laneia: thanks for the kind message! (hooray for parentheticals!)
    Juliann: welcome back, and thanks for sharing your story!
    SK: there must be some sort of IIGA(nonymous) for those of us in recovery, no?
    Muser: thanks!

  5. Love it! The ego, the parentheses, all. Every time I write something as simple as an email I’m filled with self-doubt (especially because one colleague in particular is a grammar freak) and I try to avoid parens and long sentences even though I couldn’t here. Also, there must be a related personality phenomenon called EIIG. Here’s what it looks like: even though people think I’m outgoing (the added “E” for “extrovert”) I’m just good at small talk and listening to others. It’s not duplicitous; I really love people. Still, those who know me well prop me up backstage. Thanks kikugirl for the outlet and for sharing yourself so intimately.

  6. Renee: thanks for the appreciation! I describe myself as a closet introvert, which I think I’ve been made by occupation. You probably know what I mean. Seemingly extroverted on the outside, or at least in the classroom–but oh, the sweet sometime silence of the office, the research, the library, the spaces in life to curl up and read.

    And, the grammarians. Gotta respect ’em, and it bugs me when people don’t bother to spell-check, and then proofread–the example I like to give my students is that “assess without that final ‘s’ might not be what you mean.” But sometimes grammarians give Love a Bad Name. Yes, I just went there.

  7. I use dashes and dot-dot-dot’s all the time, instead of paren’s…but I hear ya, girlie! You did look us in the eye in HS…not all the time. Do you know that I was secretly envious of YOU??? You always seemed to know where you were going, what you wanted. I wanted to be like Tamiko, not like Kristy. Kristy was the Round Table girl, the one who always had to HAVE a boyfriend, who couldn’t be happy being on her own, who didn’t know what she wanted. Tamiko was/is smart, funny, witty, with it, and you’ve known who you are as long as I’ve known you (22 years…). And you had the PERFECT boyfriend for you.

    I digress. You are you and we love you, IIG and all.

    1. Oh, Kristy! It’s so funny about how we perceive ourselves in adolescence and how we think others perceive us, isn’t it? I hope I remember that when my girls get to be that age. For a long time I felt that I wasn’t good enough, pretty enough, popular enough (whatever enough) to have a boyfriend. I knew what I wanted, academics-wise, sure, but everything else sure felt messy for a while.

      Many hugs. So glad we’re back in touch.

  8. I’m not sure writers ever get over the ego struggle (oh dear, is that discouraging?). The blank page is like a big test, each and every time you sit down to it. Whadda ya got today? Every writer I know struggles with it.

    I say, fake it till you make it. Then fake it some more.

    It does get easier with practice, though. More like a habit than a fight. So there’s that.

    The trick is just continuing to show up at the blank page. That’s the trick I think.

    From another former apologist 🙂

    1. Tea, thanks for stopping by! And yes, I had the feeling that the writing fear wouldn’t go away, so no worries about discouragement. I think I had too many other excuses for not-writing, when I think the central issue for me was (is?) fear. This blog is one of the scariest things I’ve ever done, but it’s also been one of the most pleasurable. So that’s probably a good place to be for now (or, from now on?).

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