Imposter Syndrome

I’ve lived with imposter syndrome for a long time.

I wrote a book. Then I edited it repeatedly, more times than I can count. I hired professional editors and revised it based on their feedback. My beta readers loved it. My editors told me it’s strong and that I’m a good writer.

And still, as I continue querying, the same question creeps in: Is it actually good? Am I actually good? Or am I just punishing myself by chasing traditional publishing?

I have other manuscripts that need serious revision. Are they worth the time? Should I keep working on them while querying THE NARCISSIST? And beneath all of it is the quieter, more uncomfortable thought: If I’m not good enough, why am I trying at all?

That’s the voice of imposter syndrome. And it’s the one I struggle with most.

If I’m being honest, without the encouragement from my editors and beta readers, I might have walked away from writing a long time ago. But I didn’t. I couldn’t. Because this matters to me.

My goal has always been traditional publishing. And while I expected rejection, it’s part of the process; I didn’t expect how easily those rejections would feed the doubt. Each one has a way of whispering, See? You’re not as good as you think.

And that’s the hard part. I was prepared for rejection. I wasn’t prepared for how loud imposter syndrome would become because of it.

What’s helped, in a strange way, is realizing how common this feeling is. Even incredibly successful authors have admitted to it. That doesn’t make it disappear, but it does make it feel less isolating.

So, what do I do with it? I don’t fight it anymore.

I accept that it’s there, in the pit in my stomach, that flicker of doubt, and I keep going anyway. I’ve set a high goal for myself. That was never going to come without resistance, internal or external.

Writing is a process. It’s harder than I ever imagined it would be ten years ago. But I’ve grown because of it. I’ve learned, improved, pushed myself further than I thought I could. And that has to count for something.

So instead of letting imposter syndrome stop me, I use everything I’ve gained to move through it.

I remind myself: it’s common. It’s loud, but it’s not the truth. And I keep writing.

Because at the end of the day, that’s the only way forward.