👋 I lied to you
It's Monday. I'm here for you.
Hi, Friend. Jen Glantz here.
I am such a bad liar.
My facial expressions are always the first to betray me. I haven't yet learned how to train them to match my words. So they just go rogue and splatter the truth. They are the open book that I'm not always ready to be.
Lately, I've started to realize that there is one person I am very good at lying to.
That person is me.
When I'm scared of doing something, I come up with these outlandish lies that are so creative. I rehearse them in my head until they become part of my DNA.
They become my north star.
I tell other people these lies with pride.
When they push back or question me further, I defend the lie with fierce loyalty, as if it was my own child.
Last week I wrote that I'm dealing with a weird health thing that makes me frequently and randomly dizzy. It scoots me into hours of alone time where all I can do is listen very closely to my thoughts.
During one of those weeks, I came up with an idea for a fiction book that gave me a rush of energy. I've always wanted to write a fiction book and have had ideas in the past. But this idea felt like my best one yet.
I got to know the characters, the plot, even how it could all end.
But when I went to start writing it, I looked at my reflection in the computer screen, pulled my fingers off the keyboard, and remembered one of my absolute favorite lies.
"You do not know how to write a fiction book!!! Don't you dare even try. Would you do surgery on a person if you didn't go to medical school? No. Well, Jen! Same thing. You can't write a fiction book until you learn how."
(How ridiculous does that sound??) I know. But still. Don't judge my lies, and I won't judge yours, okay?
This idea for a fiction book wouldn't stop lingering in my thoughts. I dreamt up a bunch of scenes for the book when I was taking a shower and a few more when I was resting in bed. I felt like I was becoming one with the main character of the book. I thought about her more than my own self some days.
But instead of writing any of it down, I convinced myself that first I needed to take a fiction writing novel class or hire a fiction book coach or enroll in course that helps you write a book from start to finish. When I saw the price tag was $10,000, I slapped myself out of fully believing this lie.
Actually, the course application did.
On the form to apply, it said "What's your writing background?" and so I listed everything: writer of 2,000 blog posts for the internet, 3 nonfiction books, and hundreds of personal essays for websites. I've taught writing courses, even once... a fiction course….lies force you to forget the facts.
SO, I took the lie for a spin around my inbox where over the years so many people have asked me how to write a book and I've simply, in kinder words, said: just start writing.
“Should we follow our own advice?” I asked the lie when I took it out for drinks? The lie peer pressured me into chugging my vanilla mint chip milkshake before agreeing to let it accompany me to one more place:
Breakfast with a friend who asked how I've been, and when I finally said:
"I have an idea for a fiction book," the lie came out from under the table, sat on my lap, and forced me to cradle it like a baby.
"But I can't start writing it yet. I don't know how to write fiction. I need a class or a coach or for someone to call me out for being such a scared little fool." (the lie made me leave that last part out).
"But you've written books before," the friend said, eyeing the lie baby in my arms.
"Yes but nonfiction is different than fiction."
The friend is nice and kind and supportive of me. Plus, when we get good at lying to ourselves, telling those lies to other people feels like a breeze.
It was only on that walk home that I told the lie:
“It was nice hanging out with you for hmm idk how many years but it's time we take a break and maybe I'll reach out if things don't go well for me and this fiction book but I'm going to try.”
And before the lie could jump back into my arms, I crossed them, and ran. I ran to my computer and spit out the first 1,500 words of a fiction book I'm going to finish this year.
So now my favorite question to ask anyone who hangs out with me this week is:
"What lies are you telling yourself?" And sometimes these actually go by the phrase "limiting beliefs," and to make it more simple, just ask yourself what you say you can't do "until" or "yet" and question if that's a lie.
No, you can't do surgery on a person without almost a decade of proper school and training.
But anyone can write a book without knowing how.
Just like how you can ___ even if you're not fully ready, or sure how, or knowing how to tame your insecurities, self-doubt, or the lie's number one dependent on all tax forms: imposter syndrome.
Remember that and also this:
Take care of yourself — ilysm.
-Jen Glantz
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My limiting belief is that I cannot write my fiction book either...I've been wanting to write it but the week I started i got hit with terrible burnout and I haven't been able to do it at all