I supposedly did a year-long writing course in 2010. I say supposedly because it was an online course and our tutor seriously dropped the ball about seven months into the program and a couple of months passed without us hearing a thing. When she eventually returned we all found it hard to re-engage and interest slowly-but-surely waned over the final few months.

I think the program itself (designed by an author and University lecturer) was quite a good one. I certainly enjoyed most of the lessons and liked the challenges and exercises it offered – many of which we had to share with fellow participants or the tutor. I’m generally loath to let others read what I write (for the purposes of ‘judging’ me or my writing) so I found the concept quite scary, but on the whole received really good feedback as I struggled to draft my Young Adult novel (which stalled seven months and 30,000 words in).

Because one of my 2012 goals is to re-engage with my writing, I was shuffling through my course notes the other day and came across one of the first topics which I realised, is as relevant to dieting, weight loss and ‘life in general’ as it is/was to writing.

The lesson in question focussed on dealing with our inner critic. In a writing sense, it is that voice that tells you that what you’ve written is complete crap; that you’ll never write anything decent; and no one will want to read what you write. I mean, who the fuck do you think you are?!?  A ‘writer’? Hmph!

In life, the same voice can tell us that we’re fat and we’ll NEVER lose weight; or if we do, we won’t have the tenacity to keep it off. It’ll tell us we’re too lazy to embark on the exercise program at the local gym; or that we’re too unfit or uncoordinated to try a different aerobics class. It tells us we’ll never get ahead in life; never meet the man of our dreams; and we’ll always be unhappy.

Sound familiar? Bloody inner voice!

The suggestion which actually worked for some participants (but I must confess I didn’t actually even attempt – being loath to adopt mantras, recite affirmations etc. Well… plus I wasn’t quite sure how to go about it!) involved providing some innocuous or benign name to our inner critic. Something like Mildred. Or Agnes. Or Buffy. For example. (And I apologise in advance to any Mildreds, Agneses or Buffys out there!)

Obviously the notion was, by humanising (or in my case, stereotyping) our inner critic we were stripping them of their power or influence over us. They were, ostensibly, to become laughing stocks – to be ignored or ridiculed. And their words became, therefore, far less destructive. I might, for example, roll my eyes when risk-averse Mildred tells me I shouldn’t try something; or snigger at Buffy’s idiocy when she tells me I look ridiculous. (Again, sorry Mildreds and Buffys! Feel free to poke fun at my name {Deborah} as required.)

I’m not sure we could ever be successful in completely silencing Agnes or Buffy or Mildred, but we can – perhaps – weaken her hold over us and be less inclined to take her words to heart. Which I guess is the whole point – it makes us pause when some knee-jerk thought pops into our heads.

I’m still not much of a visual person, so I’m still not sure it will work for me, but I’m going to try. I’ve named my inner critic Myra, after a moaning old great-aunt of mine. My next challenge is picking up on the negative thoughts as they occur (rather than thinking they’re the norm or letting them flow through my mind unchallenged), which is where I came unstuck during the writing course. I haven’t quite figured out how to do this. I’m pretty self-aware (I think), not to mention, modest (obviously), but my pessimistic inner critic is so ingrained that it’s sometimes hard to distinguish its voice from my own. Wait, oh look… that’s it. Myra, you bitch! Shut up!

I’d be interested to know how others deal with their negative voices or inner critics. Do they influence your behaviour? Do you ignore them; or have you managed to silence them completely?