The Politics of Fear and the Perfectionist
I am a procrastinator.
I am a champion grade procrastinator. Faced with a task, I will find anything - anything - that is more important than that task until I can no longer delay it.
When I sit down to write, I will waste hours on computer games rather than write something.
Why? I finally worked that out last night.
Like many blessed - or cursed - with an intellect that pushes the ability of most tests to measure accurately, I am a perfectionist. Perfectionism can manifest in many often contradictory ways. At their heart is fear: the fear of failure - or more specifically, the fear that the result will not be perfect.
There is the endless revision style, going over and over something to get it perfect. That one, I don't suffer from. I suffer from its near-polar opposite.
If I don't start it, I can't do it wrong. If I don't try, I can't fail. If I put something off until the last possible moment, then throw together something that in some perverse way that matters only to me doesn't matter, then I did not fail to do it correctly.
This, more than any other factor, is what is holding back my writing. Instead of using my limited spare time to write - which is in itself a de-stress activity for me because I involve myself so completely in my worlds - I play games. Endlessly. Mindlessly. Because playing games doesn't matter and I can't fail. But writing has meaning. Writing can be rejected, which is failure.
So, I play a complex series of mind games with my submissions, convincing myself that I'm doing this only because I have no chance of success, and therefore have not failed when the inevitable rejection letter comes back to me. They're only short stories, after all, tossed off in a few days and given a bit of a polish to clean out the worst of their sins. They don't matter.
If I can convince myself of this, I can do them without fear. As soon as they start to matter, I start to procrastinate.
Which is why I have one novel stalled on revision, one that is being written extremely slowly, one stalled at the end of the first chapter, and numerous unbegun novel ideas. By definition, novels require a lot of work, a lot of writing. They matter.
And so I procrastinate, for fear of producing a less than perfect result.
Next step is to discover the cure to this insidious disease - and please, do not mention will power. I survive day to day on a pharmacopea of mind-altering prescription drugs. Unless Will is standing over me, whip in hand, and forcing me to put those words down, will power doesn't stand a chance.
What I need is another mind game that will twist the novels into something that in some strange way doesn't matter, or is allowed to be less perfect. And that is a harder thing to find.
Kate
I am a champion grade procrastinator. Faced with a task, I will find anything - anything - that is more important than that task until I can no longer delay it.
When I sit down to write, I will waste hours on computer games rather than write something.
Why? I finally worked that out last night.
Like many blessed - or cursed - with an intellect that pushes the ability of most tests to measure accurately, I am a perfectionist. Perfectionism can manifest in many often contradictory ways. At their heart is fear: the fear of failure - or more specifically, the fear that the result will not be perfect.
There is the endless revision style, going over and over something to get it perfect. That one, I don't suffer from. I suffer from its near-polar opposite.
If I don't start it, I can't do it wrong. If I don't try, I can't fail. If I put something off until the last possible moment, then throw together something that in some perverse way that matters only to me doesn't matter, then I did not fail to do it correctly.
This, more than any other factor, is what is holding back my writing. Instead of using my limited spare time to write - which is in itself a de-stress activity for me because I involve myself so completely in my worlds - I play games. Endlessly. Mindlessly. Because playing games doesn't matter and I can't fail. But writing has meaning. Writing can be rejected, which is failure.
So, I play a complex series of mind games with my submissions, convincing myself that I'm doing this only because I have no chance of success, and therefore have not failed when the inevitable rejection letter comes back to me. They're only short stories, after all, tossed off in a few days and given a bit of a polish to clean out the worst of their sins. They don't matter.
If I can convince myself of this, I can do them without fear. As soon as they start to matter, I start to procrastinate.
Which is why I have one novel stalled on revision, one that is being written extremely slowly, one stalled at the end of the first chapter, and numerous unbegun novel ideas. By definition, novels require a lot of work, a lot of writing. They matter.
And so I procrastinate, for fear of producing a less than perfect result.
Next step is to discover the cure to this insidious disease - and please, do not mention will power. I survive day to day on a pharmacopea of mind-altering prescription drugs. Unless Will is standing over me, whip in hand, and forcing me to put those words down, will power doesn't stand a chance.
What I need is another mind game that will twist the novels into something that in some strange way doesn't matter, or is allowed to be less perfect. And that is a harder thing to find.
Kate
posted by Kate Paulk | 11:31 AM
4 Comments:
I've been suffering from the same thing ALL my life.
It drives my parents nuts as they've been nothing but supportive of me and my abilities from day one.
I get so crippled by the thought of rejection or failure that i literally clam up until i can convince myself that I am useless and not worth anything, so therefore my work doesn't matter, so it's ok to go ahead and do it, because no one will like it anyway.
It starts to get tricky when people like my writing/cooking etc
Expectations occur, i might just BE good at what i set out to do, and that doesn't fit in with my personal world view, so i stop doing what i was doing so well, and switch subtly.
Same with my weight loss. I've been "losing" weight for the past 8 years. i'm now fatter than i've ever been. i do really well for a few months, and then rush to the safety of being fat once more. If i'm fat, i'm ugly and can't do things because i get tired, so therefore it's not MY fault if i fail, it's the fat's fault.
Yet there's also the constant need for reassurance that i'm good. Praise from my friends, or from people's opinions i respect, about my writing is great and i crave it.. but also very scary.. because i might actually be good at something, hence it'll be ME that's rejected if i ever submit anything.. and so the vicious cycle starts once again.
Umm, i hope that made some sense?
Kada.
I'm just lazy.
MM
The problem really is that we share one mind. Oh my god, that's exactly me.
I've sort of given myself permission lately to suck. A limited time offer to just write and suck. I still re-edit everything multiple times but I stick on deadlines like a Russian gymnast on the dismount.
I'm wasn't improving when I was fussing over everything and not really finishing (or as a procrastinator even starting). Now I listen to music with my eyes closed for 5-10 minutes and then I brace myself like a young Irish bride and then go to it hoping for the best.
It means a few late nights and alittle slacking at work to write but it's getting done.
My name is Kevin. I'm 26 and live in Dover, NH. krehberg at riseup.net
I am also that way, and just realizing it. The lack of progress in my life had become increasingly suspicious over the years. Incidentally, I also work as a QA Analyst, essentially because it doesn't quite look like failure while being safely distant from the risks involved in real success. It's so true it's embarrassing. But now that I better understand why my life is the way it is, I can begin to change it (not by trying harder, of course! ha ha)
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