Oh, No! The Numbers!

I’m writing today’s post from Winter Park, watching the fog move in as I enjoy hot tea and a leisurely morning (they come in short supply for me, so I’m learning to enjoy them).

It might sound counter-intuitive, but the first thing I do when I launch a Kickstarter campaign is get out of town. It’s a reward to myself for all the work I put into the book I’m releasing. And it helps me distance myself from the inevitable pressure surrounding promotion.

Here’s a look at what I’m doing up here:

Yes, I’m in my 50s, learning to downhill mountain bike. What the hell am I thinking?

If you don’t know about downhill MTB, imagine speeding down the side of a mountain, flying over bumps, rocks, roots, and other debris, holding on for dear life, trying not to catch air on all the jumps that are designed to shoot skilled riders into the sky.

Of course, you’re doing all of this while holding a jackhammer. At least, that’s what it feels like after 4-6 laps.

It’s exhausting.

It’s terrifying.

But it’s also the most thrilling fun I’ve had in my life.

Wish me luck.

Anyway, this morning before heading to the gondola, I checked my campaign to make sure it’s running smoothly. Thanks to backers, I funded on day one.

I wrote Self-Editing for Comic Book Writers because I wanted to help indie writers make better comics. I’ve spent my life studying storytelling, and now that I edit fiction full time, I’ve seen the same problems creep up over and over. This is just one step in helping writers spot them and fix them.

After reading the proof copy, I thought, “Damn, this is pretty good.”

And early feedback from beta readers boosted my confidence even further.

After reading a third of the book, James Ferguson emailed me to say, “I swear it’s as if you wrote this just for me.” That’s a sentiment I heard from others, too.

But now that my campaign is in full swing, I noticed something weird. Despite doing this for years, despite knowing I wrote something of value, I felt the old pull of imposter syndrome kicking in.

In 48 hours, it went from “this is damn good” to “will this fund?” to “oh shit, what if it’s not good enough?”

All because of the numbers.

Last night, I met with a few creators in Tyler James’s ComixLaunch MasterMind group. A colleague shared a story about San Diego Comic Con, and he mentioned his trials with imposter syndrome. As he talked, I noticed the others in the group nodding along, as if to say, “Yeah, been there.”

(I almost shared a link to this writer’s Substack, but I realized it’s not my story to share.)

Then, this morning over coffee, my wife mentioned she’s been wanting to share more of her photography on Instagram and elsewhere. She’s traveled the world taking photos for tour groups, she’s been on assignment for magazines, yet she, too, feels uncomfortable sharing too much.

For me, when others are honest about their own dealings with this sinister mindset, it helps me recognize how silly it is.

That comic writer who went to SDCC? He’s out there making comics. I’m willing to bet he has a group of followers who look up to him for the work he’s done. What the hell does he have to prove at this point?

My wife takes photos and gets paid to do it. What the hell does she have to prove?

And me? When I felt that tug from my old friend this morning, I chuckled and said, “Welcome back. I know you’re just trying to protect me today, but I think I’m fine without all the worry, thanks.”

I shrugged it off because I know it doesn’t serve me anymore.

I ignored that voice because I recognize that he’s sort of an asshole.

I didn’t listen because I know everyone (and I do mean everyone) deals with the same BS mindset, and they’re out there getting shit done anyway.

I’ve got enough to worry about without comparing myself to others, or worrying if someone else might’ve written a better editing book.

Not today, at least.

I’ve got a mountain to conquer.

If you’re an indie comic creator who wants to level up your skills, be sure to check out Self-Editing for Comic Book Writers. It provides practical solutions to the most common, most detrimental problems that are keeping your comics from being as good as they can be.