Monday, 14 September 2020

Am I getting worse? Or, is everyone else getting better? Or BOTH? A pre-published writer’s battle with self-confidence & imposter syndrome.





I love writing. I write most days, and when I’m not writing – I’m thinking about writing; mulling over stories in my mine – practising dialogue by talking to myself, observing life – soaking everything up as you never know what will one day be useful. 

Most of the time I’m an optimist – always thinking my writing is improving – celebrating every little achievement – and telling myself that if I keep going – keeping improving that with a bit of luck one day I’ll get published. But then occasionally my optimism is pushed aside by my darker pessimistic side. The one that tells me all is hopeless. That is highly competitive – and with my extra difficulties with dyslexia that I’ll never make it. 

Like many pre-published writers these bouts of lost-confidence and diminishing hope rears its head after competition long-lists have been announced – and I didn’t make the cut. What makes long-listing announcement bad for me is that when I was starting out – my hit rate was good. At one time I had made the long-list/short-list or won every competition I had submitted too. Now a few years later – after honing my craft with courses and writing academies, my hit rate has dwindled. So after every competition long-list I miss - my pessimistic size sizes control – and I spiral, asking myself questions… 




  • Am I getting worse?
  • Is everyone else getting better?
  •  Is my rougher first draft MS better than my polished ones?
  • Is my writing gone out of style?
  • Has my dyslexia gotten worse?
  • Is it yet another spectacular bad case of unfortunate timing?
  • That I’m an imposter – as one of the only members of the SCBWI Oxford Critique group I was in that is still activity writing and not be published or agented - that I’m not good enough to be here, 

In the past I’ve tried ignoring my pessimistic side – but it never works, instead it sits festering and feeding on my hope. So now I know I have to indulge it. Let it play its course. Lick my wounds, re-galvanise myself and carry on. 

At this point, my optimism bounces back in reassuring me that… 




  • I’m getting better
  • That more people are writing now – and getting support from MA’s, Manuscript appraisal schemes and writing academies.
  • That my dyslexia hasn’t got worse, it’s improving but there is just more competition out there.
  • That Time isn’t a thing I can control – and Time trips everybody up at one point or another.
  • As for imposter syndrome - I have to remind myself that many of my published friends having been writing far longer than me – and were writing much longer than I have been before landing a contract.
And so I pick myself up and carry on. After all I love writing and to quote someone far wiser than me...




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