November 10, 2005
You've heard the expression: We have met the enemy and he's us.

About two weeks ago I was working out with Master Mike Clay and we were working on forms, which are short, strategic sets of imaginary fights, typically against multiple opponents--opponents who aren't there while you do the form. One of the tricks is to keep in mind where the people are. And Mike asked me, "Where's your enemy?"

I pointed to myself and said, "Right here." Mike laughed and say, "Yeah, I know what you mean. I'm usually my own worst enemy, too."

I had been thinking about it on that day because I had been invited to a black belt class a few days earlier so I could be checked out as a candidate for my third degree brown belt. They're a very friendly bunch and I love studying sanchin ryu and there wasn't anything involved that I'm perfectly capable of doing and do, as a matter of fact, do in my living room nearly every day. Yet I got myself all worked up about it, stressing out for no particular reason.

A week or so ago I wrote about a new client I'm referring to as a PITA, and this is still ongoing and I'm not having any fun at all. The deadline's coming at us like a meteor falling to earth and I can't seem to get anybody involved to get me the materials we need in a timely fashion--everything keeps coming in dibs and drabs and if it's driving me nuts, it must be really driving the graphic designer crazy. And I was getting seriously worked up about it and considering telling them, hey, you got the wrong guy, I don't need this shit. But it's good money on a regular basis and I DO feel that over time we'll solve this problem. But that's where my mind was going.

I think this happens to writers all the time, not just li'l ol' neurotic me. It happens with fiction--God knows I hear of writers sounding way too cocky for their accomplishments who think they've got every corner of the writing and publishing business nailed down. And yet ... is it false bravado? Covering up for insecurities?

And writer's block is a way of the brain working against yourself.

Writing is a peculiar thing. It's thought becoming symbol and although a writer can read something and have a pretty good idea if it works, it's very difficult for a writer to tell if their own material works without gaining some distance on it. It's the biggest challenge for novelists (aside from, you know, actually getting published and then, like, you know, getting people to buy the damned things)--that leap of faith that, "Yes, I can do this and do it well," versus thinking your work is better than it really is, and the insecurity that I think all published novelists have--this will never work, it's not working, it's not good, I'll never get published again.

So beware the enemy within.

Best,
Mark Terry