For many years, I’ve envied those who pursue careers with well-defined paths. If you want to be a teacher, you go to college, you get your degree in education, you log your student teaching hours, and then you start applying for teaching jobs. None of that is easy, but it’s at least clear what to do next.

There is nothing like this for writers. Yes, you can go to college and get a degree in creative writing. You can even get a Masters in Fine Arts. But it isn’t as though you then go on to apply for a job as “full time novelist.”

Our path is murky and confusing, which is why there are so, so, so many online courses that promise to make us bestselling writers. And why there are so many vanity presses (a publisher that pretends to select your book to publish, and then bills you for thousands of dollars for “editing packages” and “marketing packages” etc.) because they know writers want something to show for all these years we’ve pursued publication.

Please hear me clearly on this: Classes are good. Learning from other writers is good. Independently publishing a book can be good. I continue to take classes, study what other authors are doing, and I’ve independently published several books.

But there is a slippery slope here and far too often, I’ve caught myself sliding down it.

For example, I’ve taken several online courses and many in-person writing classes. Let’s say one called “Secrets for Crafting a Bestselling Novel” catches my eye. If I approach this class as, “I would like to know what this teacher has to say about bestselling novels and see what I can apply to my own stories,” then I’m doing fine. If, however, I approach this class with the mindset of, “I have to take this class or I will never know how to be a bestseller!” then I have a problem.

Or let’s say I notice that an author I love and respect shares that she makes six figures annually because of how popular her account is on TikTok. Ideally, I hear that and think, “Interesting. Let me go see what she’s doing on TikTok and try to understand why that works for her.” But often I hear something like that and think, “I have to get on TikTok right now. That’s the secret to making money with writing.”

Another common place that I trip up is when a writer friend of mine gets a big publishing contract, hits a bestseller list, or wins an award, and my brain jumps to, “She’s ahead of me!”

Do you recognize yourself in any of these scenarios? If so, I wish I could offer you an article titled something like, “5 Ways To Stop Comparing Yourself To Others Forever,” or, “How To Always Feel Validated As A Writer Regardless of Your Publication Status,” but unfortunately, I can’t give you anything nearly that helpful.

What I can offer is what’s been helpful for me these last few years as I’ve worked hard to learn from other writers while still respecting who I am:

Learn to identify when you’ve tipped from “learning” to “comparing.”

I am constantly asking questions of the authors I know. How do you start a story? How do you manage your business expenses? What plug-ins do you use on your website? What’s your social media routine? What hours do you work?

I also spy on other authors. I follow them on Instagram or subscribe to their email list so I can see what they’re doing and what I want to borrow for myself. (Wanna spy on me? Go for it: @StephanieMorrill on Instagram and this is how to sign up to receive my author emails.)

Learning from others is a fantastic habit, and I intend to do it forever. But I know I’ve tipped away from learning and into comparing when I’m laying my author stats next to another author’s and judging that I’m doing better or doing worse than them. This is not the mindset of someone who is “learning.” This is the mindset of someone who is judging.

When I start doing that, I know it’s time to close out of whatever I’m doing and find a new activity.

Identify the lies you tend to tell yourself.

Not every thought we have is true.

Here’s a common lie I tell myself. There are many variations of it, but basically it’s, “She just accomplished insert-thing-I’d like-to-accomplish; I’m so far behind!”

The mindset of “behind” and “ahead” is an understandable one because when we’re young, we’re advancing in life more-or-less at the same pace as our peers. When you’re done with first grade, you go to second. When you’re done with second, you go to third. The kids in sixth grade are ahead of the ones in kindergarten.

But after we’re done with school, when paths diversify, the change can feel jarring. Too often, I fall back on that old way of thinking and feel like I’ve fallen behind. I love what John Maxwell says about this: “The only one you should compare yourself to is you. Your mission is to become better today than you were yesterday. You do that by focusing on what you can do today to improve and grow.”

Another lie I tend to tell myself is, “This book/class/podcast is going to fix everything.” As if me learning how to plot a book like this author, or learning how to edit like that author will transform me so that I’m writing a bestseller every month. (Especially if I take that class, “How To Write and Edit A Bestseller in 30 Days!”)

What’s extra tricky about this lie is that there’s some truth in there! I’ve learned lots of things that have greatly helped me and changed how I write. I want to spend the rest of my life learning how to be a better writer. But this whole idea that “the next class will fix everything,” assumes that everything needs fixing when it doesn’t. Occasionally we might need a complete overhaul to our system, but most of the time, we benefit most from building on what we already have.

Here are a few more lies I gravitate toward:

• “If I can’t do this perfectly, it’s not worth it.” I leave myself very little room for learning new skills. It’s gotta be perfect or nothing at all.
• “Everybody else knows how to do this correctly. I’m the only one who’s floundering.” Pro tip: Anything that involves language like “everybody else” and “I’m the only one” is probably a lie.
• “I should be doing xyz.” I pay close attention to any thought I have that involves the word should. I should be on TikTok, I should be writing faster, etc. Really? Who says? “They”? They say I should be writing faster?

So, what do we do with these lies when we’ve spotted them? I saw a therapist for a while and she told me these negative thought patterns have spent years digging deep grooves in our mind, and we have to actively combat them with positive thoughts if we want to change how we think. That’s why nearly every day, I tell myself:

• There’s no such thing as behind or ahead.
• Sometimes things won’t work out. That’s part of learning and growing. I’m the kind of person who learns and grows.
• I’m already a successful writer.

I still hear the lies sometimes, but they don’t occupy as much real estate in my brain as they once did.

Know what kind of writer you want to be.

If a woman walked up to me and said, “You should really move to Chicago and have two more kids.” I would look at her like she was crazy and say, “Uh, no, I’m good. Thanks.”

If she then said, “No, seriously. I live in Chicago, I have five kids, and I’m super happy. I think you would be too. I’ll help you make a step-by-step plan to get exactly where I am now,” I would probably give a nervous laugh and hurry away from her.

You know what I would NOT think? I would absolutely not think, “She does seem very happy. Maybe 3 kids in Kansas City isn’t such a good idea after all.”

Why would I not think that? Because I’ve already made these decisions, and I like my decisions. I want to live in Kansas City, and I want to have these three kids. Those decisions are made, and I’m not looking to remake them.

And yet, many times I’m tempted into following the path of an author who has different goals than me, or who writes a different genre, or who has a completely different creating style when they try to sell me on their way being the best way.

Why is this? Sometimes it’s because I’m new to something, and I’m still trying to figure out the best way to do it. Like if you’re trying to make butterbeer that tastes like the liquid goodness you get at Universal, then of course you’re going to try a few of those recipes that claim to be “the best.” Trial and error is part of how we learn.

But other times, I’m tempted because I’m insecure about my decision or unsure about my goals.

One of the best questions I’ve ever learned to ask is, “What kind of writer do I want to be?” Shannon Dittemore said this to me way back in the fall of 2014 when we met in person for the first time. She was sharing about decisions writer friends of hers were making that left her doubting some choices of her own. Then she said something I’ve never forgotten. “But I had to ask myself, ‘What kind of writer do I want to be?'”

Answering this question honestly is the very best thing you can do for yourself as a creator. What matters to you about your writing life? What kind of hours do you want to work? Do you want to make a living from your writing? What kind of stories do you want to tell? Do you care about awards? Publication? Prestige?

The clearer you are about what matters most to you, the less tempted you’ll be to wander down paths you aren’t really interested in.

Are you holding yourself to the standards of a “composite” author?

One way I really struggle with comparison is when I fixate on one component of an author’s life and disregard the rest. I’ll look at how well Author A is doing on Instagram, how well Author B is doing with his email list, the amount of school visits Author C is making, the amount of books Author D is writing, and so forth, and I’ll think, “Why can’t I get my act together?” As if A, B, C, and D are all ONE author achieving these things. Which they’re not, because that would be impossible.

This is where I have to get honest with myself and answer the question: Am I willing to do what they’re doing to achieve that result?

Yes, it’d be great to be able to tell publishers, “I do one school visit every week!” But am I willing to give up the time and mental energy every week on school visits? No, I’m not.

Yes, it’d be great to see my social media numbers climbing like crazy, but am I willing to devote hours everyday to making that happen? No, I’m not.

There are so many ways to build a writing life, whether writing is your official job or not. It is tempting to look to other writers and try to make our path align with their path so that we feel safer and wiser. If we can instead learn to see what’s working for them, weigh it with what kind of writer we want to be and what matters most to us, and then decide our next step, we can lead ourselves into a writing life that’s right for us rather following others to a writing life that only imitates.

I’ve recently felt reassured by this quote from Joseph Campbell: “If you can see your path laid out in front of you step by step, you know it’s not your path. Your own path you make up with every step you take. That’s why it’s your path.”

Putting in the time to identify and walk our path is hard but worthwhile work!

What’s something you’ve learned from another writer that has worked well for you? What’s something you’ve tried that did not work for you?

Stephanie Morrill writes books about girls who are on an adventure to discover their unique place in the world. She is the author of several contemporary young adult series, as well as two historical young adult novels, The Lost Girl of Astor Street and Within These Lines. Within These Lines was a Junior Library Guild Gold Standard selection, as well as a YALSA 2020 Best Fiction for Young Adults pick. Since 2010, Stephanie has been encouraging the next generation of writers at her website, GoTeenWriters.com, which has been on the Writer’s Digest Best Websites for Writers list since 2017. She lives in the Kansas City area, where she loves plotting big and small adventures to enjoy with her husband and three children. You can connect with Stephanie and learn more about her books at StephanieMorrill.com, Instagram, Facebook, and Twitter.