It's Not Your Fault

Or mine either. Or maybe nobody's!

Could I have found a better image for this post? No. No, I could not. Photo by Brett Jordan on Unsplash

If you’ve studied marketing at all (and I have only a tiny bit, as much as I can stand) you know there are stock phrases and words that marketers throw at you. Free is one of them for sure. Others are buy now and while supplies last or no obligation or time-sensitive offer.

Yeah, you’ve heard them all, too. And if you’re like me you’ve also probably fallen for them. Or maybe you’re not as susceptible as I am (she said, hiding all the classes she has purchased and never watched).

But what’s really interesting to me, and the topic of this post today, is the phrases that marketers use to hit your emotional buttons and make you think they are sympathizing with you. (The best of them really are.) One of those is, it’s not your fault. I thought of this because I was watching a free webinar designed to get me to sign up for a program (true confession: I did) and one of the slides part way through was titled, yes, it’s not your fault.

And then the next day something happened to me. It was a run-of-the-mill miscommunication, nobody got hurt, nobody suffered—except me, because I got very busy very fast beating myself up. As one does. And three thoughts occurred nearly simultaneously. First, the man-you’re-stupid-how-could-you-let-that-happen-shame-shame-shame-guilt-guilt-guilt-it’s-all-your-fault. Second, I remembered the it’s not your fault slide from the webinar. And third, I thought, this is why that sentiment works so well in marketing.

Because we humans so easily and naturally spiral down into shame, guilt and feeling that it’s all our fault. Think about it. We’re all wandering around feeling guilty and shameful for being who we are as a creature on the planet.

And that pisses me off.

I’m pretty sure writers and creatives are particularly apt to wallow in it’s-all-my-fault feelings of guilt and shame. Messages that may sound like:

It’s your fault you’re broke. (Because everybody knows you can’t make a living as a writer.)

It’s your fault you’re out of shape. (Because you sit at your desk all day writing bad novels. Of course it’s your fault!)

It’s your fault you're an unpublished writer. (Because you can’t sell your writing it save your life!)

It’s your fault you don’t know how to market. (Because you should be able to click your fingers and do it.)

We writers are especially vulnerable to such negative thinking because our work is us and we are our work. There is such a fine line between the words we put our page and the feelings in our heart, to go a little schmaltzy. I remember one night years ago leaving a critique group feeling devastated and desperate to my core because a chapter I submitted had been torn apart. I was bereft, feeling like my entire being was shattered. That sound dramatic even to me now, but in the moment it wasn’t. (Luckily, I’ve gotten much better at handling critiques.) And of course, I told myself that it was all my fault. Because I should just be a better writer.

But here’s the truth of the matter: it really isn’t your fault.

Photo by Markus Winkler on Unsplash

It’s not your fault because you’ve been raised in a society in which you’ve been inoculated to believe you’re not enough. To believe you’re less than. We’re raised to give our power away (especially if we’re female, or a minority, or anything other than the square peg standard of our culture). We’re raised to think it’s our fault that we aren’t rich enough, thin enough, famous enough, talented enough.

And you’ve heard it before and you’ll hear it again because it is truth: what you think about you get more of. So the endless judging of yourself and the endless feeling you’re not enough gets you more of that. And it leads to inaction. So then of course it all comes true.

If I could wave a magic wand I’d instantly make you feel as wonderful about yourself and your writing as you should. But alas, I can’t offer you anything in one post that will take away years of conditioning. But I can offer a few thoughts.

1. Don’t give your power away. This is waaaay too easy to do when your underlying fear is that you’re not enough, that everything wrong is all your fault. When someone comes along and makes some snotty remark about your writing (like a cousin asking sneeringly, “So when is your book coming out?” in a way that you just know he doesn’t believe it ever will) and then you feel shitty and worry about what he really meant for days. That’s giving power to what he believes of you (or more to the point, what you believe he believes about you) and it’s none of his damn business. Let him think what he thinks and make it mean nothing to you. It’s not your fault the publishing industry is so hard to break into! Seriously, it’s not. You didn’t make the rules.

2. Shift your focus from it all being about you to what you’re putting out in the world and what you’re doing for people. Recently I read a thing from Jen Sincero, author of You Are A Badass, which is having its ten-year anniversary. She wrote about her nerves around an upcoming appearance. A friend told her: You're nervous because you're making it about you. Make it about what you're feeling called to share and you'll be fine. Right? Maybe you’re writing a novel or a memoir, or helpful articles or posts. Turn your thoughts to those you are writing for. Shifting your focus from being all about you to what you’re putting out in the world is a game-changer.

3. Because, remember, everybody else in the world is suffering, too. That woman you just passed in the grocery store aisle? She’s worried about putting her mother in assisted living. That man who roared by you on the freeway? He’s trying to get him in time to see his kid play baseball. And that teenager who just sneered at you from the park bench? She is all kinds of confused over her place in the world.

4. Don’t trivialize what you’re doing. It’s way too easy to go down rabbit holes about how much more important it is to be a brain surgeon or a rocket scientist or an electrician (there’s a huge shortage of them at the moment, by the way). All of those occupations are important. But what you’re doing is important as well. As a writer, you are giving readers a break from this crazy world. That rocket scientist comes home and cracks open one of your romances and sighs with pleasure for the first time all day. That brain surgeon reads the funny post you wrote and laughs. You’re giving people a place to rest, to relax, to sink in, and be entertained.

5. Think first of all, about what’s in your heart. (schmaltz again, and I am unapologetic). What is the story you want to write? Don’t give your power away to marketing trends or the latest hip idea. You can and should glean ideas from other writers, but add them to the great stew of your original ideas in your mind. Write what’s in your heart, love it, and put it out in the world for others to love as well.

And finally, I read this bit in a New Yorker article about The National (currently the best band on the planet, I’ll fight you on this), who have a new album out:

For more than two decades, this has been the National’s grist: not the major devastations but the strange little ache that feels like a precondition to being human. No amount of Transcendental Meditation, Pilates, turmeric, rose quartz, direct sunlight, jogging, oat milk, sleep hygiene, or psychoanalysis can fully alleviate that ambient sadness.

As soon as I read that, I thought, I know something that alleviates that ambient sadness. And its name is writing.

Subscribers: I’m monkeying around with a good schedule for publishing and haven’t yet landed on a consistent system. (As you might have noticed.) I thought Friday would work because that’s the day I write content but honestly Fridays are my least productive day. Because: Friday. TGIF. And all that. No matter how hard I try, things are just more relaxed and less productive on Fridays. I thought I’d catch up this weekend but then I got the booster and I was feeling all kinds of weird.

I’d like to do two days a week but for now I’m going to promise one. Also: I leave for two weeks in England on Sunday and I’ll blog from there. It might all be pretty pictures of Somerset and I can’t guarantee which day it will come out, but I shall blog! (She said hopefully.) And when I get back the third week in May I’ll get serious about a regular schedule and those classes I’m promising. Thanks for your patience!

One more thing. An idea I’m fooling around with is offering a monthly or every other month writer’s Q and A. I’d post a link to a survey here, you could ask questions and RSVP and then I’d answer the questions on the call. Would this be of interest to you? If so, let me know in the comments.

Also: this post contains affiliate links. If you click on them I get a slight kickback, slight being the operative word. But I’m grateful nonetheless!