Fake It 'Til You Make It

by R.C. Lewis

Lately I've had several people tell me they were surprised when I mentioned how terrified I am to get up in front of a group of people. "I never would have guessed you're shy."

Well, then, mission accomplished.

Yes, I am shy (and introverted ... see J. Lea Lopez's post on how they aren't the same thing). Always have been, from childhood right up to the moment I composed this post.

I'm also a teacher. That means getting up in front of people every day. So I kind of had to find a way to deal with it. My strategy: Fake it 'til you make it. I pretended I wasn't shy until the non-shy behaviors became a habit. As a result, I'm pretty comfortable in front of forty teenagers. A group of adults, on the other hand ...

Am I still shy? I feel like I am, but it's more like a switch I can turn on and off. I guess I'm "functionally non-shy."

Seems to me this strategy can be useful in a variety of aspects of a writer's life.

The most obvious—getting up in front of people at bookstore appearances, school visits, conference panels, etc. Fake it. Pretend to be an outgoing person, just as I've done in my classrooms over the years. Chances are, you'll fool everyone, and eventually yourself.

Marketing, social media presence, etc. makes you feel inadequate? Fake it. Pretend you're the most interesting version of yourself ever. (You write characters all the time, right?)

What about the writing process itself? Ever feel like a hack writing drivel that isn't worth the electrons in your computer? Fake it. Pretend to be a brilliant author writing fabulous prose. Don't let a conviction that what you're writing is crap keep you from moving forward.

But wait a minute! Faking it doesn't mean lying to yourself. When things need fixing or improvement, do what it takes. Study up, practice, get advice.

In all of the above, I guess the bottom line is to fake your way to confidence, and work your way to excellence. The first will keep you from sabotaging yourself before you get to the second.

Have you ever felt you had to "fake" something in your writer life? What strategies help you "make it"?

R.C. Lewis teaches math by day and writes YA fiction by every other time. Her YA sci-fi novel Stitching Snow will be published by Disney-Hyperion in Summer 2014. Meanwhile, you can find her at Crossing the Helix and on Twitter (@RC_Lewis).

Humility is Sexy

by R.C. Lewis

Disclaimer: I'm not a literary agent. I don't really know what they think, beyond the thoughts they put out there on their blogs and Twitter feeds. (I do not listen to the haters who think agents are an elitist clan of devil spawn who take joy in crushing the dreams of aspiring writers.)

But I think they would agree with the title of this post. Let me explain why.

First, you have to understand humility. Contrary to popular belief, it isn't beating up on yourself. It isn't saying your writing is crap, especially right after someone has complimented it. It is not a lack of confidence. I grew up with this simple definition:

HUMBLE = TEACHABLE

You can definitely believe you know a few things while acknowledging there's room to know more. I have a student who epitomizes this. With all her accomplishments, she could easily have the biggest head on campus. Yet bragging would never occur to her. She does what she does, no big deal, but if you compliment her, she'll thank you.

She doesn't tell you all the reasons why your compliment is misplaced.

So, why do I suspect agents find humility sexy? I'm sure they want confident writers who believe in their ability (well, most of the time—we all have moments of doubt) and don't have to be talked down from the ledge every other day. Confidence is not the opposite of humility—arrogance is.

We've all seen arrogant aspiring writers (and, er, some published writers, too). The ones who lash out at anyone who dares criticize their masterpiece. Who insist it's your fault for being dense if you can't keep track of their fifteen different narrators. Who don't care if you tell them word counts much over 100k make publishing pros twitchy—not a single word can be cut from their 450k-word debut thriller. Who say they will never change X about their novel (title, character's name, their vision of printing the whole thing in Comic Sans) no matter what a publisher says.

It ain't sexy.

(Okay, those were extreme examples, but even when you scale them back, I'm thinking they're not too attractive.)

Humble writers do their research on the publishing industry and don't blame 'the system' for all their problems. They handle critique like a pro, not giving in to every beta reader's whim, but being open to possible improvement. They'll aspire for greatness, knowing there will always be more to learn, and never claiming they've already arrived and why haven't you acknowledged it yet?!

Is there anything that helps you find the balance, neither tearing yourself down nor puffing yourself up? Taking the stings of critique and the occasional right-hook of an agent rejection without letting them destroy you? Taking compliments and accolades without thinking you've arrived at the top?