Your inner critic, of course, is actually YOU, not the person you choose to blame. But there's always someone you're afraid you're going to disappoint, or someone whose criticisms you've internalized. Sometimes it's all in your head, sometimes it's not.

Whose disapproving voice do you hear?

-- Anonymous, July 19, 2001

Answers

Instead of having an inner critic, I hear the voices of past people who praise me, then I develop reasons not to believe them.

-- Anonymous, July 19, 2001

Everyone whom I know I will disappoint when I fail. Also, everyone who will snicker behind my back when I fail. (These two categories comprise everyone who is anyone.) My mother about anything personal; my sister about my appearance and wardrobe; exfriends about anything scholastic or intellectual. Not that my paternal grandmother ever climbed the stairs to my room, but I heard her voice whenever it got messy. I've been my own worst enemy since I was a child.

-- Anonymous, July 19, 2001

My inner critic is a conservative fundamentalist Christian with certain knowledge that everything I say, do or think is a huge sin leading directly to hell. She is also quite aware that I am not as clever, smart or funny as I believe I am and that, really, I only amuse myself. Also, she wears a lot of polyester pants suits and has helmet hair.

-- Anonymous, July 19, 2001

Julia Childs.

Kind of like one of those "WWJD" things... I kind of picture Julia Childs as God's personal voice to me. Julia is old, not too smallish, funny, and clever... but her real asset is her "above-it-all" advice.

"You know, Morpheus, just because that person parked their $70,000 Beamer over two parking spots, causing you to park a 1/4 mile further away, you should not leave your boot impression on their door. It's not right. They -could- just be learning how to drive." All, of course, said in her characteristic voice.

-- Anonymous, July 19, 2001

My 'inner critic' is this sort of blended combination of both my parents that doesn't so much voice disapproval as gives me The Look. You know the one - where they just LOOK at you with an obvious "You know good and well why we're disappointed" - except I am not always sure if I'm supposed to be doing MORE of or LESS of whatever it is I am, so I pretty much am just sure that whatever it is, it isn't what it should be.

-- Anonymous, July 19, 2001

Another question: do you think the real life version of your inner critic REALLY feels that way, or is mostly in your head? Like, is Julia Child truly disappointed in Morpheus?

-- Anonymous, July 19, 2001

I am intensely afraid of the people whose response to artistic endeavor--hell, even just deviation from the norm is -- you're so CREATIVE.

The word creative is usually howled, and each syllable gets equal enunciation. It's said with admiration.

I hear such a person every time I sit down to do something. When I dress a little differently. When I start to write, or paint, or draw, and I cringe.

I end up feeling sort of Wal-mart creative, instead of Nita-ingenius.

-- Anonymous, July 19, 2001

I have little mental tape-recordings - canned nags. Many of them are in my mother's voice. Some are in my maternal grandmother's. Since I've been in a long term relationship (7 years last May!), I've acquired a whole suite of new ones in HIS voice. Mom tends to nag me about conservation issues (wasting water, leaving fridge doors open), household tidiness, and acting weird (honestly, if you can't hold your temper until we get home, at least keep your voice down. You're causing a scene, for heaven's sake). Grandma's definitely Personal Grooming. John is kind of a mixed bag, including disorganization (I'm so glad I ate lunch at 4, since we're not having dinner till *after 10* ...) and household tidiness.

-- Anonymous, July 19, 2001

My inner critic is every other Protestant woman out there, with a drink in one hand, and a smoke in the other, and a nearly perfect golf game, who looks at me through the bangs of her modified Princess Diana haircut and says, "That really isn't the sort of thing we do, now is it?"

-- Anonymous, July 19, 2001

My parents. And yes, they do feel that way, and they don't hesitate to give The Look, or The Speech, even though I'm almost 40 and married. My husband is trying, ever so patiently, to drown out the voices.

-- Anonymous, July 19, 2001

I end up feeling sort of Wal-mart creative, instead of Nita-ingenius.

Your inner critic and my inner critic are best friends. Except mine doesn't even get to be Wal-Mart creative, because she works at Dollar General. Restocking shelves. She's not even a checker.

-- Anonymous, July 19, 2001

Beth... of course Julia doesn't support random acts of violence. She wants me to be the best (chef) person I can be! =P

Since I'm not a believer in free will, I can comfortably interpret, for myself, that any "feeling of conscience" -could- be God's actual voice... every thought/feeling being previously ordained... so, yes, Julia representing God, I can assume that if my conscience (my best guide) says something is bad or wrong or non-contributing to my higher goals, I can assume that that is, if not necessarily the direct voice of God, at least hopefully, in allignment with God's direction for me.

Way more about Morph than your topic intended... sorry.

-- Anonymous, July 19, 2001

I do a great Julia Child imitation, Morpheus. You should hire me. I need a new sideline.

My inner critic is ME. I have never imparted another identity or personality to it. It's definitely MY voice and it is part of me. It's a part I'd dearly like to get rid of, but also admit I can't do without.

But then, I'm fairly at ease with my own schizophrenia, after years of gendermadness, so maybe I don't have as much of a need to put other faces on these voices.

I do sometimes refer to my inner critic as the "editor hand," after the only useful thing Nathalie Goldberg ever wrote in her life. Goldberg's a flaky writer who wrote two horrid and fairly sticky books about writing (The Wild Mind and Writing Down the Bones), but she does point out that everyone has one hand that creates and another that edits. (Metaphorically; one hand giveth and one taketh away.)

She says you MUST suppress the editor hand while you create - tie it behind your back - or you will never get anything created; the editor hand will heckle constantly or pull out sentences as fast as you type them.

I have found this to be excellent advice, and on the occasions when I do get stories finished, it is because I have applied it.

-- Anonymous, July 19, 2001

By the by, Beth, writing porn can be very liberating. Trust me on this. I'd love to see what you came up with if you tried it.

-- Anonymous, July 19, 2001

My inner critic most definitely has my grandmother's voice. Any time I did something she disapproved of, she'd ask me why. When I'd tell her my reasons, her answer was invariably "That's just an excuse!" Any time I try to rationalize something I've done or am going to do that I'm not sure I'm comfortable with, I hear her voice saying that. For this reason I question my motives constantly, and if I dig deeply enough I can come up with a selfish motive for just about anything I do, even good things. Other criticisms I still replay in my grandma's voice are "if only you would do something with your hair!" and "how can you live with this mess in your house?"

Yes, she really thinks all those things. But she thinks I hung the moon when it comes to other areas of my life, so I guess it all balances out.

-- Anonymous, July 19, 2001

Yep on both points, Columbine.

My inner critic is me at some variable point in the future, usually going- "Curtis, you *knew* that was a stupid thing to do."

Unfortunately, Future Curtis is sometimes as lazy as Present Curtis, and sometimes forgets to remind Present Curtis to not do stupid things.

-- Anonymous, July 19, 2001

I agree with Columbine about the porn writing.

It'll revolutionize your life. Totally pulverizes the inner critic, too.

-- Anonymous, July 19, 2001

Oh that conservative lady in my head is definitely my Mom. Or rather a warped version of her. Because my Mom adores me and will say things like, "Well, that's not the choice I would have made but then you always did things your own way and I support you 100%. But can't you stop using the f-word just to make me happy?" The Inner Critic Mom says, "That is not the right/good/moral thing to do. You should be ashamed. I don't think I can even look at you anymore. Also, stop cussing so much, it's a disgrace."

-- Anonymous, July 19, 2001

Have to say that writing a romance novel is also incredibly liberating (though I'm sure writing porn is incredibly liberating in an entirely different way). Since romance novels are universally considered to be Definitely Not Literature, there's much less pressure; there's the feeling that fuck yeah, I can write this! I'm talented, this is drivel, talented people can write extra-good - and indeed, superb! - drivel, by gum. It almost feels like cheating, that sense of accomplishment you get when you write ten million words of fluff in a single night.

Going to have to try the porn thing for a whole new level of of a whole different kind of liberation.

As for the inner critic, I used to be arrogantly sure that I did not have any sort of thing whatsoever, and that I am my own person. But I realized that I expected to hear the voice of Julia Child or Vladamir Putin or something; For some reason I didn't think my own self- criticism counted as an official inner critic. And I'm a vicious self- critic. Sometimes, it's hard to write anything at all. Even a damn forum post.

-- Anonymous, July 19, 2001

I think Jeremy thought I needed to write some porn and post it right on my website for God and everyone to see it. So you'll all be the first to know.

-- Anonymous, July 19, 2001

It's my 12 grade English teacher, my college comp teacher, and Professor Sandra McPherson.

My 12th grade English teacher tells me to tighten it up. My college comp teacher tells me to write from my heart. Sandra McPherson has me looking long and hard at each word.

Poetry is the art of writing concisely.

-- Anonymous, July 19, 2001

My inner critic is me at my most unforgiving, being the good little self-imposed perfectionist that I am. Luckily or not, my parents were not the type to be overtly critical (although the lack of a comment/ response can sometimes be even worse than hearing what they are actually thinking).

A good friend of mine asked if I would ever be so critical of anyone else as I am of myself, and I definitely never would be. I can be so nasty to myself in my own head. After a bout of depression, where every single little failing caused me to tell myself how awful I was (including things like missing a shot while playing pool - more evidence that I can't even hit a stupid ball right!), I learned how to shut that voice off. At first, sometimes I would actually start singing to myself, covering my ears, to stop "hearing" that inner critical voice. Yes, kind of crazy, but it made me laugh and it worked. Then I just started distracting myself with tasks or reading or whatever. Now in my more rational moments I'll try to figure out what I would like to do better without listening to the critic so much that I feel like a failure if I don't live up to my idea of perfection.

-- Anonymous, July 19, 2001

The reason I asked if it was all in your heads is that my mother is NOT a nag and she's not particularly critical. My dad is the nag (hi, Dad), but since he's just as flaky as I am I never listen to him anyway. (Lying, Dad. It's all gospel.)

-- Anonymous, July 19, 2001

Jen, you should read Florence King's When Sisterhood Was in Flower. Part of it is about a young woman who writes romance novels and eventually switches to writing hardcore porn novels. Great fun. Okay, you should all read it. Yes, I know it's the wrong thread for that but I had to say it anyway.

My biggest inner critic is me in a bad mood. I can ignore that. But my other, smaller inner critics are other writers. I get Harlan Ellison in my head a lot. Sometimes Florence King. Once in awhile Dorothy Parker telling me to just knock it off and go have a drink. This is probably one reason why I don't write as much as I should.

After rereading that paragraph, I realize that it's a wonder I don't get headaches more often instead of less. Heh.

-- Anonymous, July 19, 2001

Damn, Beth, I hate this question, because this voice just shouldn't be so strong. My inner tyrant is my mother, always saying something along the lines of "You can't do anything right." It's become especially strong since I just lost my job. Sucks.

-- Anonymous, July 20, 2001

I definitely have two selves: The Emotional Self and The Judgmental Self.

I have had hysterics at least once in my life and the most discordant thing about it was that while my emotional self had the power over my body, I was strongly aware of the Judgmental Self, watching me having the hysterics, with arms crossed over her chest and a puzzled frown on her face - not in control, not able to stop the disgrace I was, but definitely there all the time. Seeing myself from side with judgmental eyes can be rather dampening often enough.

-- Anonymous, July 20, 2001

Henry Rollins is my inner critic. He's got one song, "Fool," that goes:

"Keep learning the same lessons in pain, over and over again."

When I'm in line at McDonald's, leave the rest of the essay until tomorrow to complete or think she'd be interested in me, I think of this song.

-- Anonymous, July 20, 2001

My inner critic is simply me. Yet, not a bossy sergeant major-like me, but more a somewhat tired, easily disappointed me. "Why bother?" this critic will often say, "There's nothing unique in what you just wrote. The gap between what you had in mind and what appeared on paper is immense. And no, I have no easy solutions to make things better. i wouldn't know where to begin."

-- Anonymous, July 20, 2001

You know, while my Inner Critic is the voice of my parents, one unexpected side effect is my Inner Cheerleader---I'm my own cheerleader. I'll often argue with the critics, telling myself that yes, I can do it. So it's nice to know I'm on my side.

-- Anonymous, July 20, 2001

Ijsberg described my writing critic. Disappointment in not achieving my goals (instantly! what? I have to work more? damn!!!) leads fast to frustration and apathy and can take over before I know what happened. And then it can take days or even weeks to begin to believe I can do it again.

For all you creative types, the best, by far, book to read is Writing From the Inside Out, by Dennis Palumbo. While it's written for writers, it truly does fit anyone dealing with goals, trying to accomplish something creative, etc. I've read so many of these books (and wow, Columbine, are you on target on Goldberg's books), but this one is fundamentally different. It's practical in a way that I can't really explain, and I found it extraordinarily useful. It certainly turned my inner critic off. This isn't a new agey thing, it isn't crap -- it's written by a psychologist who has a practice in Hollywood dealing with writers, directors, actors, painters, etc., and it's a rather no-nonsense approach to geting back on track and not getting knocked off again. Highly recommended.

On the personal side, my inner critic was always me, always the hyper-sensitive, just-please-god-I-wanna-be-the-cool-girl-this-time me. And at some point, a few years ago, I realized, screw that and have fun. Life it just too fucking short. (I realized this about the time a dear friend, three years older than me, died of leukemia. And an older woman friend in my life died not long afterward.) I still have queasy moments where I'll do something and I'll find myself hyper analyzing what people thought of me, but you know what? It doesn't mattter in the long run. Fuck 'em and have a life.

(I'm also not big on anyone trying to guilt me into doing something, something which my mother is incredibly frustrated about because it just does not work. Although a few friends have managed it from time to time, I generally will do the thing for the -good- reasons for doing it, not because someone is whining about me doing it... or else, I won't do it at all.)

-- Anonymous, July 23, 2001