Against Humility
It isn’t a sin to be your own champion
Photo by Jukan Tateisi on Unsplash
What writer hasn’t fantasized about someone famous discovering her work? Championing us so that our writing finds a wide, welcoming audience? It’s a nice fairy tale, but do you know any writers “discovered” that way? I don’t.
Not a single poet I know arrived at success by simply by writing poems and attending workshops in which, perhaps, an established writer recognized their talent and, with a few emails and clicks, paved the way to never-ending success. As poet Sean Singer (a Yale Younger prize winner) said in our recent conversation, “The award you get in poetry is another mountain to climb.”
Can you get comfortable with championing yourself?
The uncomfortable truth is that to publish, to get any small public recognition whatsoever, we need to cozy up to self promotion. It’s just part of the work. Some writers are more OK with this than others.
The other day I attended a book promotion workshop. The poet—a wonderful writer whom I admire—walked us through how to use templates and fonts, how to list accolades and awards, and how to break up text with color blocks and endearing photos of yourself with your kids.
My big takeaway? He listed every honor large or small—being a semi-finalist or finalist in manuscript contests, the residencies, public readings, reviews, interviews. Everything.
I was glad that he had done so well and could openly celebrate his accomplishments. I knew he’d worked hard to achieve them. But I felt conflicted about his ease around self promotion. Just thinking about it put me in a double bind.
Oh, the double bind!
I find it helpful to remind myself that I live and write in a culture that inculcates the “virtue” of humility—for some of us more than others—from an early age. Maybe that’s changing with social media, but I don’t think so. Social media only seems to amplify self doubt. Showing confidence or ability is too often bait for negative feedback (just ask Brené Brown).
A neighbor girl taught me this when I was six. “You think you’re hot shit,” she said. I didn’t know what she meant. I tried to picture it, the steaming shit and what it had to do with me. “My mom says you think you’re better than us.”
The comment had something to do with school, with my mom approaching our kindergarten teacher about my reading level, which was advanced for my age. I didn’t care about my reading level. I just wanted to play. But the comment stuck and the lesson was learned: It’s fine if you’re excelling—just keep it a secret.
10 practices for being your own champion—and lifting others alongside you
If you’re a pro at self promotion—huzzah! Consider yourself blessed. Now, go help others dismantle self-limiting habits based in hurtful cultural norms (The Anti-Racist Writing Workshop by Felicia Rose Chavez is a good place to start).
It also requires time. If you have limited energy, I get it. Some years I dropped submitting and promoting altogether. I had to. If you have nonnegotiable time limitations, please go easy on yourself.
I’m not trying to humble-brag when I say that I’m still not as comfortable promoting my work as I’d like to be. It will always be a practice. But I’ve found some strategies that help—adjusting my priorities and, more importantly, nurturing writer-friendships in which we unequivocally support one another’s writing.
Take your writing seriously. To the extent that you can, make it a priority. Do not give your time away to other activities just because people expect it of you.
Take space (or make space) in groups. Be honest about your default on the take space–make space continuum.
Write a great bio. (More on that in a future post. For now, check out the bios of those that you admire and emulate them.)
Write an artist statement. Clarify your reasons for writing.
Don’t read too much into rejections. Keep sending out work. Remember that a 3-5% acceptance rate is actually very good.
Share your accomplishments publicly. It doesn’t have to be social media. You could build a nice, simple website. It could be through a group chat you have with writing buddies. If you have the credentials, apply to sites that list regional or national writer bios.
Keep a running list of your publications—CV style. Update it regularly, at least quarterly. Include every single thing you have ever published anywhere, any award, any near-award, any reading at an established series or public honor. Any review, any mention of your work in secondary sources.
Don’t accept imposter syndrome. When you win an award or get poems published in an esteemed journal, do not think, “This was an accident. This was a fluke.” Or, “I only got here because I studied with X, Y, or Z, or because I had friends, mentors, etc. helping me.” You are not just lucky. Recognize and celebrate the work you did to get there.
Participate in the literary community. Actively engage through whatever venue or channel you’re comfortable. Make connections with writers who will genuinely celebrate your wins with you.
Champion others—your peers, even your mentors and those that you admire. In the Buddhist tradition, this is called Sympathetic Joy. Although it might seem counter-intuitive, by delighting in their success, we are not only bringing a fellow writer joy, we are celebrating our own whole-hearted participation in the collective endeavor of writing.
How do you feel about championing your work? What strategies have helped you overcome resistance to self promotion?
The timeforf having to apologise for who you are and being careful not to offend others with your accomplishments is over. I had to come to this realisation recently. If you wait for others to give you permission to be who you are, you will be waiting forever. Unfortunately our societies work on the principle of conformity for cohesion which will always seek to utterly flatten the outlier. This isn't a good strategy for fostering innovation or progress.
Radha - this came at a particularly good time for me. Great advice and, more than that, a great affirmation that it's really ok to put ourselves - our selves! - out there.