In the Dragon’s Lair

There is a dark side to human nature - we all have it. This is a sad-but-true fact of life. Whether you want to call it the “id”, blame it on the devil, or see it as a symptom of a dysfunctional childhood, the fact remains that everyone has their dark side. Writers have it, too, and often in closer proximity than other folks. We depend on it to write from - it is what makes our writing interesting.

But the dark side has a particularly nasty habit of turning on the one who harbors it. When I was in therapy years ago, and wrestling with my own dark side, my therapist asked me to “personify” it (that was a popular mode of therapy then - it was a good therapeutic technique for writers to learn though). At first I called it the Cobweb Lady and envisioned this crabby old lady wrapped up in cobwebs.

Several weeks into our sessions my therapist said, “I think there is something deeper here. I think the Cobweb Lady is only one component of the problem.” She was right. That was when I met the Dragon.

The Dragon was merciless. The Dragon was brutal and without pity and let nothing get by. The Dragon criticized every aspect of my behavior and every thought that came into my head. And the Dragon knew for sure that I had no business trying to write. It took a long time, but with my therapists help, I learned to keep the Dragon at bay so I could write - and live - anyway.

Over the years since then I have had periodic jousts with the Dragon. I think most people who want to accomplish anything in their lives do. There are really only three ways that anyone copes with their own Dragon: they pretend it doesn’t exist (not in them!) and turn it on other people in endless criticism and negativity; they surrender to it and waste their lives in addictions and self-defeating behaviors; or they learn to control it and use it wisely. Writing is good for the latter.

Artists of all sorts talk about battles with the Inner Critic, that little voice in your head that says, “Who the hell do you think you are to try to do this? You have no talent. Who cares what you have to say? What an arrogant ass you are! Just give everybody a break and shut up.” That’s the Dragon talking. It’s taken me awhile but I’ve learned to differentiate between the Inner Critic and the Dragon.

My Inner Critic can actually be pretty smart. Sometimes, when I have spent hours and hours laboring over a particular passage and am finally finished, or think I am, my Inner Critic will say, “I don’t know, that isn’t really working for me.” I don’t want to hear that! I’ve slaved over that piece. I’ve poured everything I’ve got into it. Shut up, you ugly beast, don’t tell me I’m no good!

But therein lies the difference. It is the Dragon who tells me that I am no good. The Inner Critic is the one who keeps the focus on my work and I need to stay mindful of that. Days later, when I read that work again, an annoying little part of me whispers, “That kind of stinks.” And usually it is right. The Inner Critic knew that. Now I have to do something about it.

The world can be a tough place. There are a lot of people who spend full time in the grip of their own Dragon and are always siccing it on others. No one has time for that kind of abuse. No one deserves it. And the Dragon that keeps us down is a beast that we need to conquer. But in the midst of all that we can’t lose touch with that little voice that says, “You can do better than that, you know.” The Dragon is nasty and wants to rip into me but the Inner Critic just wants what I do to be the best it can be and I have to stay mindful of the difference. It’s a big difference.

Thanks for reading.