confidence

The Power of "I Think I Can"

I have several students who struggle with math. That’s okay. Perfectly normal. My job is to work with them and help them improve anyway.

By the time they get to me, these struggling students have often come to the conclusion that they can’t do math, period. So a big part of my job is to undo that damage.

Not. Easy.

I’m not a magician, so it doesn’t always work. But if I can find one thing they’re successful with, reinforce it, and find another … sometimes that sets off a chain reaction. They think maybe they can do a few things in math. They’re a little more willing to try, a little more patient with their own mistakes.

They stop saying, “I can’t.” Instead, they ask questions.

And that can build momentum that’ll take them far, long after they leave my class.

Other times, the barrier remains. They’ve given up. They refuse to believe. (So I try a little harder, try other ways. Jury’s out on whether it works in a lot of cases.)

How often in our own lives do we let “I can’t” become self-fulfilling? Not that saying, “I can,” instantly makes all possible … but it certainly doesn’t hurt as a first step.

What helps you get past that, to begin to believe it might be possible?

And when the larger obstacles come, what helps you keep going?

Speak up:

3 comments

Choose Your ‘Tude

Anyone who knows me could tell you that I’m a mix of realist and recuperating perfectionist. I hope for the best without getting my hopes up. I acknowledge when I do well without getting out-of-control big-headed … well, I try, anyway.

Like anyone else, I have those moments when I get down on myself. I’ve had aspects of stories that I wondered if I’d ever get right. I’ve been afraid I’d never come up with a good story idea again. (That one still comes along now and then.) I’ve had manuscripts get several requests, only to get rejections that left me saying, “Mindy, what am I doing wrong? How on earth do you get an agent to ‘fall in love’ with a book?” (Yes, Mindy has been the recipient of any and all negativity rants.)

That last bit has been key for me—having someone to vent to when I’m feeling insecure and uncertain. Someone who doesn’t just blast sunshine back at me. (“No, RC, you’re the awesomest, they don’t even know, you rock everything!”) Someone who acknowledges my feelings, counteracts with factual evidence, and admits when she doesn’t have the answers, either.

So despite my ability to criticize myself to death, I’ve managed to keep an attitude of “If I keep trying, I’ll keep getting better, and eventually I’ll get there.”

There’s a different approach that can certainly be tempting, but I feel certain is less effective. The frequent, public declarations of, “I suck. I’ll never succeed at this. I’m screwed.”

Well, yeah. I believe that’s called a self-fulfilling prophecy.

I’m not a sunshine-and-rainbows, super-jam-packed-with-positivity type person. But I do know one of the few things we can control in this industry (and life in general) is our attitude.

If we’re overconfident, we annoy others with our arrogance. And we look foolish when we inevitably can’t deliver.

If we constantly declare ourselves full of supreme suckitude, what are we looking for? Baiting others into a pity party? Fishing for compliments, which we’ll then refuse to accept (because, y’know, we’re so convinced of our suckiness)?

Hard truth: I am not here to convince anyone of their greatness, particularly anyone who doesn’t want to believe it. I’m busy maintaining my own ego’s balance.

You don’t have to believe you’re great. You just have to be passionate enough about writing (or whatever you’re doing) to keep working at it, and believe that if you do, you’ll improve.

And you are the only one with the power to do that.

Speak up:

2 comments

Confessions of a Late Bloomer

I’ve heard it more than once. Possibly more than a hundred times. Likely from some of you reading this post. Countless writers have said some version of the following:

If you’ve said one of those things, totally cool. Nothing wrong with that. (Unless you mention any of the above in your query letter. DON’T do it!) Some people have that direction and solid idea of where they want to go in life early.

I’m not one of those people.

To be fair, I’ve always been a bookworm. But as a kid/teen, I never got enthralled by gorgeous prose or amazing imagery. I just wanted a story that could hold my interest, keep me guessing, suck me in to the very end and beyond.

To be even more fair, I’ve always known I’m pretty good with words. I could write a school essay on just about any topic without breaking a sweat. (Very handy in grad school.) When my sister needed to argue with someone on a message board, she got me to help her phrase everything just right.

That didn’t make me a writer. Writers were creative and imaginative and all those good things.

We had to take two English classes in college. Freshman English (which I managed to delay well beyond freshman year) and some type of Advanced English chosen from a list. I chose Technical Writing. Never considered taking any type of creative writing class.

I wasn’t the type.

So what am I now?

Over the past three years, I’ve slowly grown used to the idea that there is some creativity in me. That while my writing style will never be “conventionally beautiful,” there is artistic merit in it. That the strong analytical side I’ve been so comfortable with all my life can be a complement to creativity.

I think I’m old enough now to understand that while there are many types, there isn’t one correct type. My “writerliness” is just as real as that of someone who’s been spinning stories since toddlerhood.

Some people take the interstate to their goals. Others take mountainous backroads, and an unplanned detour leads to an unexpected destination. One isn’t better (or worse) than the other.

Just different.

Speak up:

5 comments

I’m Not a Bipolar Writer—What’s Wrong With Me?

Lately I’ve been seeing a lot of tweets, status updates, and posts relating in some way to the bipolarity of writers. The euphoric highs of Mega-Manuscript Love, and the desperate lows of I Hate Writing But I’m Doing It Anyway, Sort Of.

I don’t get it … which makes me wonder if I’m missing something.

It’s not the first time I’ve wondered that.

It’s not that nothing about this business gets me way down (One word: rejection … yeah) or way up (Full requests! Agents acknowledging me on Twitter!). But the super-extreme emotions don’t tie to the actual WRITING OF THE STORY.

If you saw my post last Friday, you know I’m not into the super-whiny (or super-effusive) approach to much of anything. Aside from letting that writer-bipolarity dominate your social media presence, though, I imagine there’s nothing wrong with it.

Is there something right with it? Am I actually missing something? Are my emotions not getting engaged enough as I write?

I don’t think that’s it. There was a particular scene that truly creeped me out to write. And I’ve gotten teary while writing others. So I don’t think I have a death-grip on my emotions while writing.

Maybe it’s my “analytic-artist” nature. (Trust me, it’s taken ages to acknowledge the “artist” half of that.) The analytic part has never been prone to extreme emotions without truly extreme circumstances. (My teenage years don’t count, Mom.)

I have times when the words come fast and furious. I have times when the pace necessarily slows down so my brain can work out some connections. I’m fine with both.

Here’s the thing. I write because I want to. I write because I enjoy it. I write because I love reading what I’ve written, making it better, and having others read it.

The knowledge that I need to keep working keeps the love from taking me super-high. The love keeps the knowledge that I still have a lot to do from taking me super-low.

Every writer will have a slightly different process. For me, keeping the balance works. So, there might be things wrong with me, but this isn’t one of them. It’s just my way.

Are you a writer that hits those highs and lows during the writing process? What gets you through the lows? What do those highs feel like?

Speak up:

1 comment