The monster within

I went on a training course recently for my day job and one of the aspects of the course was ‘representational systems’. This is how we process information or data and comes under neuro linguistic programming, which I won’t delve too deeply into here. (There’s lots and lots of solid work out there done by experts if you would like to learn more.)

Simply, there are four main representational systems we have as humans, according to my notes from that course: Visual, Auditory, Kinesthetic and Auditory Digital. (There are variations on these, different names etc. – I’m just talking from my experience of this course.)

Visual – what you see
Auditory – what you hear
Kinesthetic – what you touch or feel
Auditory Digital – what your inner voice is saying, i.e. what you think

We use a combination of all four on an every day basis and they are all linked to learning styles. Most people use a combination of all four, although there is usually a preferred one. There are online tests that can determine which one is yours, if you’re interested.

I had two that stood out above the others. I take a lot of information in via my ears, I’m constantly tuned into what’s going on around me. I’m very much an Auditory person.

However, I also scored highly in Auditory Digital as well. I’m in my head a lot, and there’s an inner dialogue, if you like, going on a lot of the time. I have often said I’d much rather go blind than deaf hence I don’t attribute a lot to Visual and I’m just not really into holding or touching things.

This is where the title of this post links in. The monster within. That voice that you have that questions you as a writer. You’ve had a bad review. An author friend suddenly gets a book deal out of the blue (and you think their work is atrocious). You can’t get that chapter to read right at all. You might be struggling to finish writing the final paragraph of your manuscript.

Whichever it is, there’s that nagging voice that keeps whispering from the dark. It questions you. It brings you down. It makes you feel worthless. It’s the monster within…

If you receive information and are an Auditory Digital person, then you attribute quite a lot to this voice. But did you know you have the power to change how this voice sounds? Go on. Try it. Get it to say “Hello. Good morning. Your work is shocking. Why did you just write that?” Make it sound like Gollum. Now change it. Make it Scottish. Make it Irish. Make it American. Russian. Japanese. If your inner voice is nagging you, make it squeak like Mickey Mouse. Suddenly not so scary.

Read that bit in speechmarks again but in the voice of the said mouse. I just chuckled to myself. But you can also change how it looks if you have an image attributed to it as well. Is it like Sully from Monsters Inc.? Or is it more akin to a Furby? Scale it down. Make it tiny. Small things don’t ever seem that intimidating to me. It’s not quite so intimidating now, is it? (It can work conversely as well – if you need to persuade yourself to do something, make it intimidating.)

I reached a point with my first book (Smile) where I really didn’t see the point in continuing. I’d reached eight chapters in the first twelve months and I was tired of it all. The end seemed so far off and I was ready to throw in the towel. I was busy with being a dad, playing cricket and working in a job, that at the time, I loathed. Writing wasn’t on my agenda at all. The monster within was winning. It made me question my motives, whether I had the tenacity to succeed in holding my book in my hands.

Slowly, I turned it around. The monster morphed into a pet monster, all cute and snuggly.

Writing is a fairly lonely business. You can be on your own a lot of the time. Sure, people can be around, but you’ll be the one putting pen to paper, fingers to keyboard or voice to microphone. That inner voice can be your best friend or your worst enemy. You have the power to change how it sounds and how it looks.

Take control. Tame it. Make it pink and fluffy and squeaky. It’s in your head after all.