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As I sip my morning coffee, I pursue a list of “Essential Essays for Writers”. I’m searching for a quick 20-minute read that will inspire my morning writing. Then I see the title “Write Like a Motherfucker” by Cheryl Strayed. An image of Samuel Jackson floats around in my drowsy morning brain as I click the link.

It’s a “Dear Abby” sort of article. A depressed, tutored writer laments her inability to write and Strayed gives this aspiring author the type of tough love you would expect from a hard boiled spinster auntie. I can relate to the tortured soul who struggles with her own “insecurities, jealousies, and ineptitude.” I can even relate to her high-functioning neurodivergence. Her letter reminds me of the biblical wailing and gnashing of teeth, but it is an honest cry for help. Yet, it is Strayed’s response that is both stunning and refreshing.

To be clear, Strayed does not make light of the mental health issues expressed by the querent. She recommends the help of a professional in no uncertain terms, but she does not stop there. After sharing her own story as a writer, Strayed cuts to the core of self-torture:

The most fascinating thing to me about your letter is that buried beneath all the anxiety and sorrow and fear and self-loathing, there’s arrogance at its core. It presumes you should be successful at twenty-six, when really it takes most writers so much longer to get there.

This hit home. I, too, have struggled with perfectionism and overachievement. I never considered how it was rooted in arrogance. What a strong word, but as I read that line, I knew it was true. Those of us who struggle with perfection, do suffer from a sort of arrogance. We are often paralyzed by the idea that we cannot start until we know we can achieve flawless results. There is the arrogance: to assume we can or should produce something that is flawless. We are paralyzed by our fear of producing anything less.

Strayed argues for our acceptance of mediocrity. This is a revelation that I have also come to accept. Mediocrity gets a bad rap. It does not mean subpar. Mediocrity is defined as “the quality of being intermediate between two extremes.” Understanding the true definition can free a writer from guilt. Perfection is an extreme. We all know extremes are not healthy. In life or in our own expectations for our writing. We must allow ourselves to write mediocre novels, essays, or even blog posts. We must learn to simply string words together and relinquish the idea of high art or critical acclaim and just write.

In class, I teach my students that writing is a processes. I struggle to get them to focus on process rather than product. Some get stuck, unable to write at all because they are so desperate to get it “right.” The first draft should never be our darling. The first draft is like throwing clay on a potter’s wheel. Then comes the hard work of molding it into something. First, you must throw the words on the page.  Then you must revise. Revise. Revise. Revise.  In fact, the revising never seems to end. You just reach a point when you decide you have done enough. Is it the great American novel? Probably not. Has it achieved its purpose? Probably. Remember, we are not settling for substandard here. We are simply letting go of the extremes. We are letting go of perfection.

You can’t expect to win a marathon if you spend your life on the couch, but if you refuse to run until you know you will win, you’ll never get anywhere. You have to start. You need to accept that first slow jog around the block. Writing works the same way. You have to start. Let go of the grandiose ideas and just show up at the keyboard and write anything. Don’t stress over writing like an gifted wordsmith. As Strayed says, “Write like a motherfucker.”