form of self-indulgence. If you feel an urge to skip this part of Rewards, it is especially important that you not do so.
Please note that by “proper pride” I’m not talking about the giddy “I’m king of the world!” feeling perfectionists tend to feel on those rare occasions when they think they’ve written well. That’s a clear sign of overidentification with the work, and is almost inevitably followed by an equivalent “crash” the next time things don’t go so well. Honest pride and satisfaction are what prolific writers look forward to after a good day’s work. (There may be a time for giddiness—say, when the manuscript is finished or the book sells—but this isn’t it.)
And, of course, don’t expect perfectionism to give up without a fight: it will almost certainly pop up with a litany crafted just for the occasion: “You wrote a paragraph and now you’re celebrating? How pathetic! How do you ever expect to finish your novel writing a paragraph at a time?”
Never listen to the perfectionist voice, a.k.a. the voice of the oppressor. The best way to respond to it is to dialogue with it via journaling, while assuming the role of a CO adult:
Perfectionism (in disgust, but also terror): You wrote a paragraph and now you’re celebrating? How pathetic!
CO (with honest curiosity): Oh, so you think it’s ridiculous to celebrate? Why is that? Perfectionism: Well, it’s just a paragraph!
CO: So you don’t think it’s a long enough passage to be worth celebrating?
Perfectionism: Of course not—and how do you expect to finish your novel?
CO: I’ll get to that in a minute. But, first, isn’t a paragraph a meaningful achievement after weeks of not writing at all?
Perfectionism: Errr ... maybe.
CO: And am I hurting anyone when I celebrate?
Perfectionism: Well, no, I guess not. (Then, with sudden franticness)But, but, but—if you celebrate, then you might get the idea that a paragraph is enough! And it really isn’t! We’ll never get the novel done a paragraph at a time! And then everyone will know we’re losers!
CO (with extra compassion): I understand your fear—and you’re absolutely right: a paragraph really isn’t that much writing compared with an entire novel. This was only a first step, though. I promise you that I’ll be working as hard as I can to boost our productivity to a rate we both think reasonable.
Perfectionism (relieved): Really?
CO: Yes, but we can’t rush it, or we’ll go back to writing nothing. Perfectionism: I guess you’re right. But, you know, I really do want to rush it. We’ve lost so much time already.
CO: I know—I kind of want to rush it, too. But we tried that approach for years, didn’t we? And it never worked. So, let’s just try this other way for a while.
Perfectionism (not entirely convinced, but now willing to go along with it): I guess you’re right.
CO: OK, so let’s try celebrating and see what happens.
What is likely to happen is that the writer will feel good—great, maybe—and more confident and inspired around her writing.
Dialoging compassionately with the oppressor should help alleviate its fears and rigid antipathy to CO, Rewards, and the other solutions discussed.
Finally, it’s a good idea to have an activity reward , both to amplify the celebration and help your body recover from all the sitting and writing. This could be a stretch or a happy dance.
Always Reward Lavishly —meaning, don’t stint on time or money. Lavish Rewards not only feel great and are healing, they strongly reinforce the activity you’re Rewarding. Take the same time and energy you’ve put into bullying yourself, and reroute it into equally intense pride and satisfaction. Eventually, you probably can skip the tangible and activity rewards, but never give up on the celebration. The goal is to evolve a mindset where you see your work as a continuous series of successes—some big, but most little or even tiny—and automatically celebrate, if only briefly,
Dean Wesley Smith, Kristine Kathryn Rusch
Martin A. Lee, Bruce Shlain