Oh, anon. I want to hug you, because I know that feel. And it sucks.
And the thing is, this is a completely normal thing to feel. Some feel it to a greater extent, and some to a lesser, but it’s normal. Those “popular” writers you feel you have to compete with feel this way. Professional writers feel this way. Writers who have books on bestseller lists feel this way. There’s always some bigger fish to look up at—or even just look at—and there’s always one more rung to strive for.
The key is, I think, to keep reaching for it. Keep moving forward.
Anyway, that’s what I tell myself when I get all up in my head, and when the great green bastard Jealousy starts making it tough for me to swallow past the thickness in my throat. I put my head down, and I take a deep breath, and I get back to work. I compete, sure, but I compete with myself. It’s the only true metric there is.
There’s no cure for writerly jealousy, but in my experience it can be eased by getting better. By looking at where you’ve come from. By taking stock. By looking at the rungs you’ve passed on the way. There’s no cure, but moving forward is an awfully nice palliative.
So please, don’t feel hopeless. It’s not hopeless, so long as you keep telling those stories only you can tell, and moving forward to tell them better and more strongly than you could have before.
You can do it. And here, I’m going to give you a hug anyway. *hug*
Amazing advice from Bran! (As always.)
For me, I deal with this in two ways, and they’re interconnected.
First—and this is often an awareness you develop as you keep at writing—is gaining an internalized understanding that writing and storytelling are skills. Those popular and excellent writers are not working magic, and therefore what they have is something that you can develop.
Once I realize this (and sometimes I do have to remind myself), then I can look at that person’s work and think about what specifically they’re doing that is making people (making me) like and envy them so much.
And then, understanding what they’re doing and realizing it’s a skill—and furthermore, deciding that it’s a skill I want to have (just because somebody’s good at a writing thing does not necessarily mean you have to incorporate it yourself)—I say to myself, “Well, I can learn to do that!”
And then they become a benchmark for me, as I work to get where they’re standing. And then the jealousy gets replaced by a companionable sense of being ‘in it’ with them, because I think, “Yes, you’re awesome. I will learn to be awesome like you!”
(In fact, you can even try saying to the writer, “I love this thing you do! How do you achieve it?” Chances are it’s something they in turn worked to develop, and they may be able to give you tips or insights on the process.)
But there’s a trick to this: while you’re working to get better, you don’t want to look up too often. Like exercise, or traveling a long distance, periodically you want to check in to see how close to your goal you’re getting, but mostly you want to compare yourself with your own previous performance. Are you better than you were last time? Are you better than you were when you started?
That last one becomes a real pick-me-up, because after a bit, when you look at where you started and where you are now, you go, “Holy shit, I didn’t think I was making progress but I am actually way better than I was!” ^_^