Photo by Alan Rourke is licensed (original usage here) under CC BY 2.0

The happiest and most free I ever felt as a writer was with some of my earliest scripts.

They were the work of a beginner and didn’t go anywhere but I enjoyed them.

Why?

Because I hadn’t gotten any harsh critiques yet. I hadn’t been told how far off I was.

I hadn’t had objective professionals “in the business” tear apart what I’d created.

But soon enough, that happened. I found out someone I knew, in my home state of Ohio, was connected to a big Hollywood producer and willing to send him my script.

She did. And after months of waiting, he sent back a note attached to “coverage” from one of his readers.

It was brutal. They hated the script and were very blunt about why.

And so began a new chapter for me as an aspiring writer. One where I questioned whether I or my work was good enough. Where the goal was to impress such people eventually and “break in.”

In some ways, that phase never really ended. Because even when I was signed with CAA and had won two Emmys, my daily experience as a writer, for some time, was to try to write something that would impress a producer I was working with, or my own agents, enough that it could go forward. And most of the time, that didn’t happen.

What happens to the free and easy creative spirit when this mindset takes over?

The answer is obvious. It goes away. Writing becomes a grind. There’s pain in it.

I avoided that pain. Avoided writing. And when I did write, I had a constricted, fearful, “less than” mindset much of the time.

This happens to most writers at some point. You get the cold reception from the professional world of writing and take stock of just how far off success at this might be. And if you’re understandably chasing that success, you can get demoralized.

And stop writing.

When I talk to writers that are going through that, there’s one book I recommend.

The War of Art by Steven Pressfield.

The War of Art posits that there is a negative force within each of us, that it dubs “Resistance.” And it wants to stop us from pursuing our big, difficult, long-term aspirations. All of them. Even things like exercise plans. But definitely writing.

Now I don’t like the idea of something “evil” within me that wants to keep me small.

But I can also admit that part of me doesn’t believe, doesn’t exhibit fearlessness, boldness, courage, discipline, faith and a never-give-up spirit.

Part of me is lazy. Part of me thinks “what’s the point?” Part of me procrastinates. 

But that’s not all of me. And I can notice that part and decide I won’t let it run me.

Pressfield’s prescription for dealing with Resistance involves a workmanlike approach to one’s craft. Showing up and punching the clock. Doing one’s best without being so emotionally tied to the results.

And being willing to take one’s lumps – meaning willing to share work with the world, deal with the consequences, and learn and grow from all of it.

And just never stop. Which he calls “the magic of keeping going.”

When you’re as thin-skinned as me in the face of negative feedback, that’s not easy.

But I do it anyway. 

I also recognize that just “keeping going” doesn’t always produce good results, if I don’t also get in  a relaxed, creative, allowing, faith-filled mindset for each writing session, where the inner critic isn’t in charge. Because Resistance wants to use that critic to shut me down.

Yes, that critic has a place. It’s an important part of the creative process to be able to stand back and look at one’s work objectively, see the problems and improve them. In fact, some say most of writing is “problem-solving” and I agree. But there’s also a time for allowing a flow of ideas where that critic needs to be turned off.

Recently I’ve come across another great book that’s useful on the subject of Resistance. Actually two books. The Tools and Coming Alive. 

They’re from psychotherapists Phil Stutz and Barry Michels. Jonah Hill made a documentary that’s on Netflix about Stutz, which is how I heard of him.

They use a different term: “Part X.” But it sounds just like Resistance to me. Their second book Coming Alive really focuses on it, saying it’s a part of all of us and tends to want to stop us from moving forward and being our best selves, in any area of life.

And they provide “tools” that are time-tested from decades of work with private clients (many of them Hollywood A-listers, although that’s not really the point).

These “tools” are quick visualizations that help us shift out of a negative mindset into something more open, willing and trusting. There’s a spiritual aspect to this, although not a specific religious belief system. I can attest that these can be really useful.

The book also theorizes why Part X exists, and how diligently battling it ultimately helps us cultivate more positive life force. So in the end, perhaps it’s a good thing.

Whatever the reasons for it, I think recognizing the psychological pitfalls of writing or “trying to be a writer” (same thing, as long as you’re actually writing!) is super useful.

As well as finding practices that work to manage all of that while “keeping going.”

Because I believe how one manages oneself in the face of this is a primary determinant of how much success and fulfillment one can enjoy.

It definitely has been for me.