Writing Gremlins, Part One: Noticing Your Gremlin

Cunning and cruel, gremlins skulk in dark corners of the mind, waiting in shadows to pounce. They scold and belittle, telling us we will fail, we have no business writing, we might as well quit and do something else. They interpret and judge our past, playing on our fears, and author the ...Cunning and cruel, gremlins skulk in dark corners of the mind, waiting in shadows to pounce. They scold and belittle, telling us we will fail, we have no business writing, we might as well quit and do something else. They interpret and judge our past, playing on our fears, and author the debilitating fantasies we sometimes indulge about the future.

Like chameleons and writers, they shift form and attack at varying levels of intensity, their voices echoing through our heads in first-person—I can’t, I won’t—which can make us equate them with ourselves. Your gremlin might be disguised as anxious behavior or fear of success. Its ferocity ebbs and flows, but it’s always there, lurking in your cellar.

You may never have consciously focused your awareness on its presence, but this is the first step toward locking it down. Like finding the hidden image in a stereogram, noticing your gremlin gets easier with practice. As your skills increase, you will see that you and it are not the same thing: you are its observer, and it has no power beyond what you grant. Here’s how to notice your gremlin and keep it from climbing the stairs:

• Breathe. I say this a lot, but it’s essential. Breathing feeds oxygen to the brain and raises emotional, mental and physical awareness, all of which help you focus attention.

• Pay attention to your emotions. If you don’t feel good when you’re writing, this is a clue that your gremlin’s on the scene. Close your eyes. Notice your feelings without judging or interpreting them.

• Identify your thoughts. If you catch your gremlin speaking through you—I suck, just quit, etc.—put up a mental stop sign and observe the thoughts without analyzing them. Your gremlin knows you’re onto it now.

• Inhabit your body. Gremlins can elicit uncomfortable physical sensations, such as tightness in the chest or gut. Identify these sensations, note where they occur and think of them as gremlin detectors.

• Notice the interaction between heart, head and body. If you feel discouraged, are you thinking wrong thoughts? Is your jaw clenched? The more cues you take that your gremlin’s afoot, the easier it is to pan back and see it.

• Observe your gremlin. What does it look like? What does it do? Mine is a huge, gelatinous thing that flings slime. Yours might be a wiry guy with a megaphone. Giving it an image makes it easier to notice, and to ignore.

When you become adept at noticing your Gremlin—how it behaves and what signals its presence—power shifts to you, the observer. With awareness comes choice. Now you can make proactive decisions about how to respond. More on this in Part Two.

In the meantime, if you’re determined to keep your gremlin downstairs, I suggest reading Rick Carson’s excellent book, "Taming Your Gremlin." Carson’s approach is effective and simple, and will give you techniques to keep the cellar door closed.