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xenia roos's avatar

As an artist (technically, non-practicing) I found this to be extremely relatable, even across fields. In my journey to try and create more, at one point, I crossed a barrier where I needed to allow myself to make "ugly, bad, art" and within that space, I discovered the fun again. How much have we lost by becoming so serious, so hard on ourselve..? Thank you for sharing the wisdom that your journey brought.

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James Horton, PhD.'s avatar

Xenia,

I've mentioned this to a couple people in the comments but one of the major "pivot' points in my own journey is when I called up my brother and asked him to tell me, plainly and honestly, what my biggest character fault was--i.e. the thing that was holding me back.

He thought about it for a moment and then said, matter of factly, "You're too hard on yourself."

Normally I would have dismissed that advice, but that time around, I listened. It took a couple years for it to change things properly but in retrospect It was profoundly useful.

James

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G B's avatar

May I (kindly) ask, how in the hell did you go about exorcising that demon?

That’s probably my biggest flaw too, and it leeches all the satisfaction and freedom to experience joy in my life. Last Friday I organized an equinox gathering to try and build community and collectively hope and imagine a new world when we’re all feeling downtrodden by the things going on, like thirty people came and shared games and the tea I made and meditated, and I haven’t been able to take satisfaction or success. I’ve just been being so critical for not being able to facilitate the conversation better, which was my main goal (my first time trying to with a group that large too).

In the same vein, I’ve been taking everything so serious, approaching creative ideas and even things that feel nourishing with the lens of “that’s not good enough, what’s the point?, it needs to be better, more fleshed out, more original, more rooted, more radicalizing to those I share it with” etc etc.

I realized I’ve been looking at things as needing to be meaningful or impactful, and have not been approaching things from a place of play for joys sake. I had a moment communing with a flood plain forest a couple weeks ago that I was trying to dissect, figure out how to recreate more of that meaning and extract it in a form I can share, pressuring myself, and only last week realized it was because I was having fun! Even in that moment, I was thinking to myself what’s the point of this deep experience if I can’t share it and infect people with it?

It’s clear to me I need to live a different way, not constantly lambasting myself with perfectionism. I want to cultivate a regenerative culture in my mental ecosystem.

Thanks in advance for your perusal of these frustrated questions. Didn’t expect to share this much!

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James Horton, PhD.'s avatar

GB,

I wrote at length about this in an article in the past. I'm linking it here for you.

https://medium.com/invisible-illness/the-theater-of-the-mind-d59312a336ba?sk=1dc33675cf800f848ba8d6066bdf0f0d

The simple version is that the dialogue in your head is an emulation. Most of what happens inside our head is a copy of the forms and conventions of what happens outside of our head. So when we think of "self-talk," what we actually mean is that a person talking to themselves is mentally simulating each role of an actual conversation, inside their head, almost as if they were on a stage. They do this with complete credulity: they identify with one of the characters in the dialogue in particular as if it was more "them" than others. But it is arbitrary.

Your self-talk has a shape that depends on what conversation you are simulating. In my case it was a dialogue between two people; me and the idiot that I had to abuse into doing things. In the article I call them the "horse" and the "rider" but functionally you can just think of them as two people. George and Lenny, maybe, from that old Steinbeck novel. At any rate, my head was an endless litany of criticism that I directed towards a phantom "me" in a constant bid to exert control. I had so much I wanted to do, and that fucker kept getting in the way, so it was only natural to scream and prod him until he moved so I could do what I wanted.

Once you realize it's an emulation then the obvious thing that comes to mind is, how does the emulation compare to the real thing I'm emulating?

And when I thought about it that way I realized I was treating this emulation in my head infinitely worse than I would treat a friend, a child, a student, a stranger, or even an enemy. I at least respected my enemies. I treated "internal me" like a bug.

The next obvious thing is that you can look at how you interact with real people in order to change the emulation. In my case, I wanted to treat myself as a friend. So I thought about how I treated my friends when they weren't "good enough," when they fucked up, when they failed, when they felt miserable, when they were lagging. And I realized that I had an entire history of love to draw on--I knew intuitively what it felt like to treat people kindly because that's what I did for everybody but me.

So I just started doing exactly that, silently, for the phantom version of me inside my head. I remember the first time I tried it; I had just had a bad day, hadn't gotten nearly as much done as I wanted, I felt miserable, and I was walking across the parking lot toward my car. And I started up the normal abuse, and then, instead of going on with it, I just... caught myself. The way I'd catch myself if I were talking to a real friend and my temper got the better of me.

And then I calmed myself down and asked the "other me" inside my head a question. "Hey, man. Are you okay?"

And he let out a deeply anguished wave of wordless grief, and I knew that I had a lot of work to do. Bug I started, and most of it started with learning to listen to that part of me in my head that I used to abuse, as if I was talking with a person--because, of course, I always was.

I don't always do it right, but that was the point where I lanced the infection. So the gist is, your self-talk is fundamentally the same as your talk with others. There are no special rules that exist just because it happens inside your head. It's a space remarkably similar to external space. If you want to treat yourself better? Think of a friend who you care for and ask yourself how you treat them when they mess up. Do that, inside your head.

Do you even consider it a fuckup to begin with, or do you just laugh it off because you value the person? Do that inside your head. Do you ask them how they're feeling? Do that inside your head. Do you listen to them vent? Do that inside your head. Do you hug them? Do that inside your head. Take the actions that you feel are genuine and natural. Half of the reason we struggle to fix our internal dialogue is because the pat responses we try to use in our heads feel false. So find ones that are true. Do those. Have the talks.

If you can't be kind at first? If feel so full of rage and disappointment that you can't even listen to yourself? Think about the last time you felt that towards someone you loved. Did you abuse them? Or did you catch yourself, choke back anger and tears, and tell them honestly that what they were doing to you was hurting you and you wanted them to stop?

Do that inside your head.

Figure out where you are in the relationship with that phantom "you" (or whatever form it takes) and just do the most right, most loving thing you can do. Inside your head. The same way you would do it if it was a friend outside of your head.

And if it feels a little bit foolish, remind yourself that all those years of internal abuse were just an emulation as well--and yet you sunk into them with complete credulity, treating them as if they were absolutely real, and not an emulation. If that's the case, why should you treat your deliberate choice to be kind inside your head as if it was less real than the years of criticism?

Best wishes. That was the principle that worked for me. Also please note that there were plenty of other things that I did to get out of the worst of my depression, including medication. So this does not magically cure mental illness. But it's a good remedy for being too hard on yourself. ;-)

J

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Allegra Huston's avatar

That’s what happened when I started doing “throwaway writing.” I might try “stoner writing” inspired by this piece!

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Brenden O'Donnell's avatar

This piece is an amazing service to a writing community like Substack. I particularly found the metaphor of “dirt” helpful, not just for its meaning (dirt isn’t trash; it’s important and necessary for growth); but also for its practical implications. It’s a great way to visualize multi-pass writing.

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James Horton, PhD.'s avatar

Thanks, Brenden. Please let me know if you get anything tangible in terms of new practices from the article; my rule is that the final measure of an article isn't whether it creates a buzz of excitement in readers -- it's whether it positions them to make a sustainable change. I'd love to hear from readers if this helps them smooth out their process in any way.

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Chelsea Counsell's avatar

Boooo you suck for using AI. Is it so hard to get an image with creative commons licensing?

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Rowan's avatar

Agreed. Such a lazy attitude.

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Felicity Martin's avatar

You make some good points well, but I won’t restack this as you have used AI generated images.

Do you know whose copyright artwork Midjourney was trained on? I don’t but am sure they weren’t paid for use of their work.

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Julie Mooney-Somers's avatar

I found so much gold here James, thank you. I teaching writing as part of a class on qualitative analysis and will be sharing your post with students. Personally, I was most prolific when I decided to amuse my Facebook friends with my posts. It grew into a blog. I was always thinking about this ‘silly’ writing, jotting ideas and one liners on my phone. My relationship to writing became playful. When I came to do my serious work writing, it was so less intimidating. Thank you for reminding me about this

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James Horton, PhD.'s avatar

Julie,

In my first year of graduate school I hit this deep funk where I felt severely broken, both as a scholar and as a person. I called up my brother because I knew he was kind but also honest, so I trusted him to be able to give me hard feedback gracefully. And I asked him if he could tell me, from his own perspective, what was wrong with me.

His response was "You're too hard on yourself."

Normally I would have dismissed him but I had made a commitment up front to taking whatever he said seriously, so I forced myself to ask the question "What if being hard on myself is the cause of my problems and not the solution?"

It took about three years for that insight to change my life but it did, completely, making me a much happier, much more productive person. Glad to see you've found the secret too.

James

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marie angie's avatar

I totally relate to your comment James and it has been such a struggle — my sister said the same thing to me too!

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Gunnar Seigh's avatar

Same. Facebook but no blog.

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Lanna's avatar

while writing about (potentially) making art i find it a bit unrespectful to ise AI Art to illustrate it. i think you're analysis is put together very nicely. I'd rather have no picture than some generated stuff though.

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Felix Bölter's avatar

Being the mildly obsessed notebooks and stationery enthusiast that I am, I noticed that you spoke of "pen and paper" and "notebooks" several times throughout that article.

I can't help but wonder if you ever went into detail about your analog writing tools. If not, I hereby declare my heightened curiosity about that 😁

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James Horton, PhD.'s avatar

Easy. Fountain pens and Japanese paper. Too many notebooks to count, unfortunately, but I’ll say that I have a fondness for Rhodia (not Japanese, but spectacular), Moleskine (also not Japanese, but also spectacular), and Midori, Mnemosyne, Kyokuko, and Apica (all Japanese and all superior. The Midori notebooks are the best paper I have ever used).

Pen-wise, the Pilot Cavalier is superior to everything else. But I’m a fan of Lamy, and China has been getting better at their shameless knockoffs. :-D

Pilot’s Iroshizuku inks are probably the best I have. But I’ve got several bottles of Noodler’s ink that I’ve been working on for years and will probably never finish. Noodlers’ Walnut was the first one I bought, back in 2010, and I think I’m just now finishing the bottle.

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Felix Bölter's avatar

Thanks for the instant reply!

Do you still carry a notebook with you to take notes on the go? If so: Do you use fountain pens with ink from a bottle in these cases, too?

Forgive me for suggesting another brand (in the unlikely case you never tried it): If you like Moleskine, I promise you'll love Leuchtturm1917 - especially as a fountain pen user.

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James Horton, PhD.'s avatar

I admire Leuchtturm but by the time I learned of it the notebook pile had grown so large that I had no desire to buy notebooks for the sake of buying them anymore. Ironically becoming a serious writer dampened my enthusiasm for paper, because it was no longer all joy and no work. These days when I buy notebooks it’s almost entirely because I’ve failed my impulse control for one reason or another.

I will, however, see if I can gently nudge the next impulse failure in the direction of a Leuchtturm notebook. It will likely be at least three or four months from now. :-D

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Felix Bölter's avatar

Haha, I know the problem. There should be a version of "Tsundoku" that alludes to collecting much more notebooks than one is ever going to use. ^^

Thankfully, I currently experience the opposite tendency: The more serious I get about writing, the more stages of my writing workflow happen on paper - and I love it. 😊 It's joyfully inefficient - but very effective. And so much more pleasurable than any keyboard (although I really like my Logitech MX Keys).

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James Horton, PhD.'s avatar

Joyfully inefficient is a good phrase for it. Another idea, which doesn’t have an easy word—it’s less efficient in terms of how fast I can produce words, but it seems to be more efficient in terms of how fast I can produce work.

That is, if you track it at the level of a single session, typing is much more efficient. But if you track it at the level of the amount done per day, writing gets more—presumably because I don’t get pulled away from my work by the entire internet.

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Elliot Freeman's avatar

I’m late to the party here but just want to echo how powerful your reframes and tools are. Thank you!

One tool I’d like to share is to help with the belief “writing should be done right”

I’m not sure if you’re familiar with IFS, but the idea is that we have different parts within us that can dominate our experience and clash with each other.

My internal editor is very strong and it really oppresses my internal creative or inner child. It takes the joy away. But it also plays such a helpful role at the end of the process.

So I just say to myself when I notice it: “thank you for showing up. You’re so important and I value what you want to say, but right now I’d like you to step aside and let the creative have its say. And when we’re finished at the end, come along and have your turn”

Surprisingly, it works (for me at least 😛). It separates that anxiety from the clashing goals.

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Isaiah Moon's avatar

Holy crap this is one of the best things I've come across. Thank you so much.

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James Horton, PhD.'s avatar

Thanks, Isaiah!

Glad to hear that you found this helpful. Keep me posted on how the writing goes!

James

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Ally Murphy's avatar

Thank you for going further than the common “just write” advice and breaking it down for those of us still struggling with a daily writing practice.

Hearing that I’m already a prolific writer is immensely helpful and validating. Thank you!

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James Horton, PhD.'s avatar

Ally,

Thank you for the kind words. I'm glad you found something helpful here, and hope that it works for you in practice as well--keep at it, and keep me posted!

James

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Allegra Huston's avatar

So right! The number one enemy of writing well is TRYING to write well, and you nail all the whys and ways in which that happens, for example, "When you write you plan, research, compose and edit all at once." What happens? Your anxious, judging, ambitious mind battles against your imaginative, creative, don't-care mind, and wins. Twice a week we host a Prompt of the Week zoom which encourages "throwaway writing" - maybe you'll do something with it, maybe not, and as it's written in 10 minutes the idea that it's supposed to be "good" is absurd. Result: not trying to write well! Result of that: really interesting material that consistently surprises you. Result of that: fun and enjoyment in writing, which carries over to other writing too. The zooms are open to anyone who wants to join us - link at ImaginativeStorm.

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Joy Juliet's avatar

I love the metaphor of the “dirt” needed to grow

plants! I’ll think of that whenever I sit down to write something.

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James Horton, PhD.'s avatar

Joy,

Thank you for the kind words. I'm glad you found something in the article that resonated with you. Keep me posted to let me know how it works for you in practice.

James

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Dave Medlock's avatar

I'll second Joy's comment. I actually realized that I have a ton of dirt laying around in various places and never even realized that's what I was doing. This whole thing was great though - it's actually a bit relieving for someone who has always wanted to write professionally but has never actually taken much of a step toward it.

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Lilja's avatar

This was really helpful, thank you. I've seen a lot of writing advice before and how to get over blocks but not like this. I immediately went and did some aimless mindless free writing and found there were some gems hidden into those words too.

That said, seeing AI work at the end of a piece about writing and human creativity felt like a slap in the face. Now I can't be sure how much of this article is yours and how much of it too comes from AI. It muddies the great advice for me, unfortunately.

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Sanvaad's avatar

Really appreciate how you reframe writing as "dirt management" rather than just composing polished pieces. The image of someone trying to paint a masterpiece one perfect centimeter at a time really drives home how absurd our "get it right the first time" instincts are. Your "stoner draft" technique made me laugh - there's something beautifully subversive about deliberately writing badly to outsmart our inner critic.

I especially connected with your point about treating most writing as invisible groundwork. It's liberating to think that even Gandhi's prolific output is dwarfed by our daily digital scribbling - maybe we're all already writers, just waiting to redirect that natural flow toward what matters to us.

One question: Do you think your academic background helped you develop these insights, or did breaking free from academic writing conventions lead you to them? Either way, this is the kind of practical writing advice that actually addresses the mental warfare behind the blank page. Whoa dude. Totally righteous. 😉

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Helen Grimbleby Art's avatar

Helpful, thanks. I’m reading Wuthering Heights just now. I don’t know the acronym RPG. Google gave me the first hit - rocket propelled grenades!

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James Horton, PhD.'s avatar

Thanks for the kind words. RPG, in the sense I'm using it, means "Role Playing Game," where participants each assume the role of a character and participate in an interactive story.

The Bronte siblings *Glass Town* isn't exactly that, but it has the same sense of shared world building.

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Helen Grimbleby Art's avatar

Phew! To be fair that was Google’s second hit and I figured the more likely.

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Justin T. Sampson's avatar

Love the “persona” idea. I tend to get stuck most on precondition #3 so I’ll give that a try!

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James Horton, PhD.'s avatar

If you find out it's not doing the trick for you, just drop me a line. I have like ten other ideas which didn't make the final cut in the article, and I'm always happy to talk shop with fellow writers.

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