NOTES FROM THE MARGIN
I
t is always a joy when one
of my columns generates a
lot of emails from readers. I
am thrilled to receive each
and every one. When I
wrote about my personal experience
of impostor syndrome, I thought it
might resonate with a few, but never
expected to hear from so many who
share that excruciating fear of being
found out as a fraud.
Maybe it’s something in the writing
gene that means we cannot simply
accept we are good at what we do.
Maybe it’s the drip-feed of poison
from others that if we are not up there
with millionaire (and, even more
daunting, billionaire) authors, then we
don’t deserve to call ourselves writers.
However, a writer who asked to be
known as Mike felt it wasn’t confined
to authors: ‘I think it is absolutely
normal and a part of the human
condition.’ He could be right.
I received so many emails outlining
writer anguish, it was hard to choose
which to use. If I haven’t included yours,
please don’t think it was because I didn’t
find it worthwhile. Everyone’s story
deserved a place, but space is limited.
An author who only started her
incredible writing career at the age of
84 is Millie Vigor, author of Catherine
of Deepdale. She recalls how she felt
after the book reached number five on
the list of her library’s top ten most
borrowed books. ‘I went to meetings
where I met well-known authors,
people who had been to university.
I shrank into my shell. What righthad I, a village school kid, to rub
shoulders with people like this? I was
an impostor. I began to doubt what
I’d done.’ Millie, 92 at time of writing
this, has seven published books to her
credit, but still wants to hide away for
fear of being found a fraud.
An author friend, whose output I
would dearly love to match, also suffers
from the same dreaded fear. David W
Robinson has so many books to his
name (eighteen of them in the Sanford
Third Age Club Mystery Series) that
it’s hard to believe he could ever suffer
from self-doubt, but he does. As he
says: ‘I re-read my older books and
think “this is a load of rubbish” and
“how did the publisher come to accept
this tripe?”’ Needless to say, none of
David’s books are rubbish, but he’s
never going to believe that.
Elizabeth Bailey recently had great
success with her historical Lady
Fan Mystery novels, but this only
deepened her conviction that she will
be exposed as a fake. When she had
four books in the charts at the same
time, it sent her into a frenzy of joy
mixed with panic that they wouldn’t
stay there. ‘Because, of course, if they
are not in the charts, everybody has
figured it out. I’m just an average
writer who by some extraordinary
fluke has managed to grab a piece of
one niche.’
As a contrast, Geoffrey Elleray’s
success enabled him to turn off his
impostor syndrome. He entered his
self-published autobiography into a
prestigious annual award and felt all theanguish of the rejected author when
it wasn’t on the long list. ‘I thought
it is so bad that it did not deserve
a mention. Towards the end of the
proceedings, the prize for the main
award was announced. I was the runner
up!’ The award changed his outlook.
‘Now, when self-doubt occurs I don’t
allow myself to feel like an impostor or
pretender. Just good on me.’
Another positive story comes from
a writer who would rather remain
anonymous. ‘I’d never heard of this
condition until I read your original
article. It was a really life changing
moment for me. I’m a 65-year-old
retired graduate mechanical engineer,
who’s just had his first novel accepted
and published. I realised, thanks to
your revelations, that I’ve been dogged
by impostor syndrome since early
childhood.’
He went on to outline his career
where he believed that failure,
humiliation and disgrace were lurking
behind every corner. Despite achieving
great success and being praised by
colleagues and superiors, he always
felt he had somehow hoodwinked
everyone. But then he signed up for
a writing course. ‘The weird thing
was, once I started writing, I began to
believe in myself.’
I am going to use the last
two positive examples to help
me overcome my own impostor
syndrome. As my partner said
recently: ‘Stop downplaying what
you’ve achieved. Readers enjoy your
books. Deal with it!’Lorraine Mace’s postbag
has been stuffed with
responses to her recent
column about impostor
syndrome98 NOVEMBER 2019 http://www.writers-online.co.ukNOTES FROM THE MARGIN