The Voices in Our Heads

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Like a lot of authors, the mystery writer Michael Gruber held many jobs before he became a full-time writer. He was a chef, a policy speechwriter, and even worked in the Carter Administration studying octopus behavior (he had received his PhD in biology). He didn’t publish his first novel under his own name until he was 61. That’s a long time spent not pursuing what would become his most natural career. “Why the wait?” I asked.

His answer was somewhat unusual. First, there was the common issue of confidence, of just doubting he could do it, doubting that he was actually a writer, fearing he might try and fail and in so doing discover what he actually was. If you never try, then the dream can remain. But there was something else, tied specifically to his decision to get a PhD in the sciences. He told me he was hoping that by becoming a biologist he could save himself from the voices in his head, the ones he knew he’d be listening to if he closed the door to his workroom and wrote fiction. Listening to those voices seemed a little too close to madness.

I’m happy to report that he’s made peace with those voices, as every writer must. Without them, we can’t do our job. We don’t get to determine exactly what they’ll say, nor can we demand they begin speaking on cue as a trained dog can learn to bark with the snap of a finger. It’s a relationship, and like all good relationships, it only yields fruits worth sharing when based on love. If the author loves the story he’s telling, and if he decides that love is reason enough to write, the voices will be like a best friend, eager to join him every day to see what they can create together.

Of course, there are unfriendly voices in our heads as well. These often talk of the future and all its perilous uncertainty. That future is where the desolation of failure always exists, the dead kingdom where nothing good can grow. It’s madness to worry that you could somehow wander into a world without love, fall into a void from which there is no return. Yet worry many of us do. The surest antidote to that fear isn’t hard work or publishing success, but to look around you right now for the most interesting story you can find. You will find it as sure as you can hear your own heart if you become quiet enough and listen.

If you like the ideas and perspectives expressed here, feel free to contact me about individual coaching and group workshops.