It's hard enough for a writer to fend off the inner critic, right? But, after reading P&W, the battle inside of me falls into the category of Bad Ass Ebola versus Wimpy Miss Sniffles. This begs the question, what is it about me that makes me so susceptible to kicking my own ass with the whip of perfectionism? Worshiper to my inner critic. By, God! I'm not going to blame my parents for this one!
Perfectionism! Anne Lamott writes as the "voice of the oppressor." True Dat! My rational mind knows Lamott's correct, but something inside of me listens to the resounding dark voice that says, "You're hackneyed. Trite! Go back to your day job!"
Do you battle perfectionism? Do all writers? Artists? If so, how the hell does anything get written? For now, I need to stick with books like Bird by Bird (Anchor Books, 1995) my voice of hope.
I will not compare myself! I will not compare myself! I will not compare myself! I will not compare myself!
Bird by Bird and Ann Lamott are two of my favorites things!
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