I think all writers—all creative people—sometimes struggle with self-doubt. If we don’t defeat the latest bout in a reasonable amount of time, learning and growing and improving or just becoming more confident, sometimes we really start to believe that doubt and buy into its lies. The longer we buy into the lies, the harder it becomes to be creative.

Sound like a vicious cycle? Um, yep.

My husband came across this video and was telling me about it today. As he described it, I immediately likened the story and the moral to the challenge of self-doubt. More on that after the video.

We start off “riding the writing bicycle.” We struggle at first but soon we’re able to write reasonably well. (Granted, the learning curve for writing really well is probably longer than that of learning to ride a bike well. Or maybe it would be more accurate to compare writing for publication to training for Olympic cycling or something. Let’s not push the metaphor, okay?)

But then we turn our creative world backwards. Maybe a bad review or critique sets us off. Maybe we’re disappointed with how we’ve executed a scene. Maybe we get hate mail. Maybe we struggle with our next project. And instead of bouncing back, we buy into this cycle. Everything you know is wrong, backward, unhelpful. You used to be able to do this very simple task and now every step is a stumble. In fact, maybe what you thought was good was actually bad and stupid and so are you.

(Stop talking to yourself like that, okay? Also, stop leaving yourself hate notes in your first drafts about how much it needs revision. It’s a first draft. Of course it needs revision.)

Eventually, we buy into this negative self-talk so much that it becomes our default. We’re riding the backwards bike. And it hurts and feels foreign and everything we know is wrong, so we stop trying to write ride like we used to. The lies we’ve been telling ourselves begin to feel that much more true. We can’t write. We didn’t know what we were doing. We suck.

But because we’re creative people, the desire doesn’t go away—not yet, at least. That flash of inspiration strikes and we have to write.

And it’s hard. And it hurts. And it feels foreign.

This is the moment of truth. We can stay in this rut of self-hate and denigration, or we can keep. Trying.

It’s still hard. It still hurts. It still feels foreign. But as we persevere, there will come a moment when suddenly it clicks back into place—our muse, our skills, our efforts. It’s not as easy as it once was, not at first, but finally we’re moving forward again.

And it feels good again.

So if you’re riding the backwards bicycle right now, stop. If you’re hopping back on the forwards bike, don’t give up yet. And if you haven’t hit the backwards bicycle yet, push through those self-doubts, because they. Are. Lies.

You’re good enough. You’re smart enough. And gosh darn it, people like you. And your books.

Keep riding writing.

Good luck.