Five Stages of Vincibility ♠️
Writer Compass Advice and Opinion
When I decided to become an author, I donned an invisible superhero cape that I believed made me invincible. I could write all the words, do all the marketing, network, connect with readers, attend events, all while keeping a full-time day job and paying attention to my family, and even sneaking in time for doing mundane household chores and a bit of self-care.
It sounds crazy, right?
I liken this stage to denial (…ain’t just a river in Egypt. Mark Twain)
Much like the stages of grief, I had to go through an emotional process as I realized I was not invincible and I can’t do all the things. It’s a painful process, and the first punch in the face was when I had a book or three out and realized that while I thought I was doing ALL THE THINGS, there are more things to do.
It made me angry to recognize that I didn’t have a direct store, audiobooks, translations, a street team, an ARC team, and wasn’t publishing a book a month. And I had no bandwidth to tackle these problems, much less manage ten TikTok accounts and publish videos at least three times a day. Why the hell hadn’t the HR team told me there were more things when I accepted the job of indie author?
Oh right. Because there is no HR team. There was just me. Solo Entrepreneur Creative.
It’s a hell of a job title. Rewarding. Inspirational. Exhausting.
My inbox is packed with opportunities to learn one more thing. The thing that might turn me from unknown workaholic to Colleen Hoover-level workaholic. The big difference there being the income. It’s a problem I think I’d like to have. But I can’t learn one more thing.
“I don’t have time!” I scream at the Universe in my justified anger state.
I’ve got anger to spare, from my feet to my hair! (Dr. Seuss)
But some part of my brain—the masochistic side, I suspect—started bargaining with my inbox. Opening the scads of emails with the Next Great Author advice and exploring the options. Maybe if I just take this one class, or meet with this one expert? Maybe if I post one TikTok video? Maybe I could use my newsletter and my Facebook account to start an ARC team? If I just took one step in the right direction, surely the momentum would build.
Necessity never made a good bargain. (Benjamin Franklin)
But this lovely scattershot bargain I’d made with myself didn’t move the needle on my income or my productivity. No one was knocking on my door begging me to let them make my first book into a movie. (They’re missing out, I know.)
“And then depression set in” (Stripes, 1981)
That lack of cash or ringing doorbell led to some very heavy feelings: I’m not good enough. I’m faking this. I’m an imposter, and it’s never going to happen for me. Yes, this is what depression looks like when you think the reason you’re not an overnight success is because you haven’t done All The Things, and you can’t.
“Everyone else can do all the things. So I must suck,” my brain supplies oh so helpfully.
I cycle through the anger and bargaining and depression, bouncing around like a four-year-old in an inflatable jump house. What if I throw money at the problem? What if I take another marketing class? What if I write faster? On and on the questions go.
I could stay in this cycle for years. And I have. But at some point, there is a moment of clarity and acceptance. I am human, and I can’t do all the things by myself.
And I don’t need to.
Happiness can exist only in acceptance. (George Orwell)
Acceptance looks like deciding what MY THINGS are. What am I willing and able to do? How can I do those things completely and at a high level? Who can help me? And for the things that are beyond me and my physical resources— Who can I hire?
As the Chief Executive Officer of a soon-to-be successful company, I won’t act like a kid in a jumpy house. I’ll narrow my focus, improve the quality of the things I can do, and hire the best people for the things I can’t.
Because I accept that I’m vincible.
♠️