Self-Doubt and the Submission Process

In the first installment of this three-part column, Eva Recinos explores how we can get out of our own heads and into a space where we can submit work

On a hot July day in 2019, I joined a group of writers—poetry, nonfiction, and fiction writers—in Idyllwild, California, for the first of five days. We gathered into small workshop groups, reading each other’s work and offering critique during the Idyllwild Writers Week. We listened to guest speakers’ craft lectures. All of the fellows, myself included, shared their own work alongside established authors. It culminated in an outdoor stage, where people read their work out loud as we traded bug spray and sipped on lukewarm lemonade. These intensive five days were unlike anything I’d experienced before.

Every morning, I woke up surprised at how idyllic and surreal it all felt. Not only that I was so far from my normal city life, but that someone believed in my work enough to give me the opportunity to participate in a retreat and focus on my writing and my craft without distraction.

I had decided to apply on a whim, sending in my writing sample and a statement of purpose pretty close to the deadline. It’s basically canon that creative people love a tight deadline, right?

I stood at my kitchen counter, typing frantically and thinking, This probably won’t work out for me, but let me try anyway. I’m so glad I applied despite all the chatter cluttering my head: Am I even good enough for this? Do I deserve it any more than the next person? Will they think my writing absolutely sucks?

Self-doubt is a constant companion in the writing process that many of us know well but don’t always like to talk about. Or, when we do, it’s often to downplay our achievements or make it seem like writing isn’t as hard as it is. We sit down to write and our minds harass us with questions like, Shouldn’t you be better at this by now? Why is it taking you so long to write this draft? So-and-so is super prolific; why aren’t you?

Writing is hard. In that fact, there is no doubt.

Thankfully, I started attending more writing workshops and panels, and I learned there are groups out there to help you feel less alone. In the spirit of coming together to submit work, Women Who Submit (WWS) is an organization created to empower women and nonbinary writers to get their work out there. The collective started back in 2011 and is still going strong.

Cofounder Ashaki M. Jackson created an activity for the group called the “Barrier Wall.” In this exercise, people write down the barriers they feel are in the way of them submitting.

“I feel like many of us BIPOC writers have a lot of anxiety around ‘being enough,’” Cofounding member Xochitl-Julisa Bermejo tells Catapult. “Men, especially white men, and sometimes white women, can do very little and get recognition, but that’s not true for BIPOC women. We are expected to go above and beyond for the smallest amount of validation. I think this fear of our work not being good enough or never being done comes from our very real experiences in education and the workforce.”

WWS also does something unique: It celebrates rejection. Bermejo says it’s a part of writing, after all. But it’s important to never let rejection stop you from writing.

Self-doubt ebbs and flows. Sometimes it comes from an interior monologue, other times from external factors like rejection or the “compare and despair” cycle of seeing everyone else celebrate their wins. And sometimes it’s quieter. We wonder if the piece is the best it can be. We wonder if we need to spend more time with it before we share it with anyone else.

“A piece of writing will almost never feel done and can’t ever be perfect,” Bermejo says.

And whether or not you submit that piece doesn’t have anything to do with its value. When the self-doubt mice come out from hiding and tell you that your writing success is predicated only on submissions, tell them to go back to sleep.

You’re allowed to take breaks, to focus on other projects, to watch Netflix and ignore all the chatter about who is submitting where. In a WWS panel on demystifying top-tier submissions, poet and professor of English at Fullerton College Cynthia Guardado talked about how she doesn’t submit all year long—she’s more strategic.

“It’s difficult for me to sustain the stamina or motivation to keep up with submissions all year round,” Guardado tells Catapult. “I usually prepare some batches for submission and do several submissions during the same time period. It’s easier for me to just be focused on a short-term goal, like ‘this is what I am doing right now,’ versus trying to spread myself thin with teaching, writing, revising, and submitting all at the same time.”

Bermejo says she’s currently working on a second poetry collection and prioritizing those deadlines versus focusing on submitting. Let your projects guide you—and don’t feel guilty about hitting pause on submitting.

Self-doubt is a constant companion in the writing process.

I like to keep track of my rejections, and I know there’s lots of literature out there about the benefits of racking them up, like this Literary Hub essay by Catapult instructor Kim Liao. One argument is that seeing “no” time after time means you are putting yourself out there. But I’d suggest it’s important to track the “maybe” answers too—no matter how few or how many submissions you make. If you’re rejected but encouraged to submit again, make a note. If an editor or publication says they’d like to see something else from you, don’t take their words for granted. If you can apply again next year for that grant or residency, set a reminder and give it another shot.

Whenever I hit submit, I like to walk away from that essay or project. I start working on something else, a tip that many writers recommend. Or I read a really good book or commit to a new show with a half dozen seasons on Netflix. I try not to think too hard about how much time has passed since I hit that submit button. Or, as this Women On Writing piece suggests, you can try a new hobby . . . maybe something completely separate from writing, like “underwater basket weaving.”

At the end of the day, writing and reading are both subjective practices. When you send in a submission, remember that you can’t totally know what the editors or magazine want at that given moment, though you should be familiar with the publication and know what kind of pieces they publish. And remember that other people go through it too. Even those people who you admire and love and stalk on Twitter. Rejection loves everyone. And so does self-doubt.

If I hadn’t taken the risk of applying to the Idyllwild program, if I’d listened to the doubts in my mind, I would’ve missed that opportunity. After I attended, I had the confidence to start thinking more seriously about my manuscript. Now I tell myself that it’s worth at least taking a chance on that application or submission. But, most importantly, it’s about doing it when the time feels right.

You don’t have to do everything all the time. Tell your self-doubt to sit down. You can submit when you really feel the drive and the focus to do so—and if you don’t manage to apply to every single opportunity that comes along, that doesn’t make you a failure.