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Everything seemed fine when we first walked into the dog trainer’s office. It was actually his garage in his house, but I also operate a business out of my home, so that’s certainly not something I’ll ding someone else for. This man came well recommended, a number of positive reviews on Yelp and his website that led my husband and me to believe he could help with our somewhat unpredictable new rescue dog, Gavin.
Longtime readers of the blog may be familiar with dear Gavin, who, as I like to say, is the doggiest dog I’ve ever had, which means he had some instinctual animal behaviors that aren’t conducive to peaceful cohabitation in a domestic situation.
Gavin is one of the sweetest souls I’ve ever known, full of personality and spunk and love, but he has, shall we say, impulse-control issues. By the time we interviewed this trainer we had tried a couple of others whose methods weren’t really working well for our dog and situation.
Read more: “Training Your Writing to Behave”
The trainer encouraged us to drop Gavin’s leash and let him walk around the space while we talked…and I proceeded to watch my confident, eager, goofy dog drop into a slink and tuck his tail, hiding under the table beneath our legs.
His baffling behavior became clearer as soon as the trainer explained his protocol to us, which started with our getting a shock collar.
Everyone has their own ideas on dog training, but my husband and I subscribe to the school of thought that, while humans are the leaders, pet ownership is a respectful partnership, built on affection and trust. Create structure and parameters for your dog and help them want to abide by it by making it appealing: If you sit calmly with your butt on the floor when I go to the front door, I will leash you and take you for the walk you’re dying for. If you come back to me every time I call you, no matter what, you will get delicious treats. Focus on me instead of the lunging barking dog walking by and you’re going to get the petting and praise you crave.
I know shock collars don’t necessarily cause severe pain, but imagine if every time you reached for a cookie your partner smacked your hand away. Sure, you may think twice before having that cookie, but how are you going to feel about your loved one after that happens a time or two? And has this punishment really changed your behavior or just your actions whenever your enforcer is around?
I’m guessing our dog could smell the residual fear of dozens of dogs before him in the space who’d been punished with a shock collar. We walked out of that trainer’s garage as quickly as we politely could, and eventually found another trainer who specialized in challenging behaviors using the kinds of methods we preferred. And from the moment our stranger-wary dog met her he sidled up beside her and leaned into her for pets. In our sessions he was adorably eager to please her—and us—as we gradually conditioned the behaviors we wanted using these positive techniques.
Now, when Gavin boards at her facility when we are traveling, she actually uses him in some of her sessions to help train other dogs with behavior challenges.
Beating Ourselves with the Stick
I have an oft-repeated saying that authors who have worked with me or taken my classes are no doubt familiar with: Creativity doesn’t respond to the stick, only the carrot.
This idea—that you motivate by enticement, not punishment—governs my approach to editing as well as my own creative efforts. Time and again I see and hear how destructive, negative messaging can undermine an author’s confidence and capability—and time after time I see writers flourish and thrive in their creative efforts and career when they believe in themselves and their abilities.
And yet so often I hear authors denigrate their own writing, or their skill, or talent, or the state of their career, or even themselves as a creative force. That may push them in front of a keyboard to grit out their word counts for the day, but it’s not likely to yield their best, freest, most creative work.
When you punish yourself with your own metaphorical shock collar—denigrating yourself or your writing, comparing yourself unfavorably to others, beating yourself up for your lacks instead of celebrating your wins—you’re not operating out of your desire to create, but by a desire to avoid: avoid the harsh judgments and mean inner voice that’s running that negative loop of abuse in your mind.
Motivating yourself with the stick takes the joy out of your writing and creativity, and undermines your trust in the one person who should always be your greatest support and champion: yourself.
It takes the joy out of your writing and creativity, and undermines your trust in the one person who should always be your greatest support and champion: yourself. Just as if my way of yielding behavior I want from my dog is to hurt him if I don’t get it (or my spouse decides to whack me anytime I eat something unhealthy) that isn’t likely to strengthen the bond between us.
The Stealth Stick
One problem is that often we think we’re motivating ourselves with a carrot when really it’s just a stealth stick in disguise.
That’s when you think you are striving toward something positive, like acclaim or validation or a desired outcome, but unconsciously flogging yourself with a stick to get there: “If I can just drop ten pounds I’ll be able to get into in my favorite jeans.” “I’ll be a better friend/spouse/daughter if I can just pay more attention to my loved ones instead of being so self-focused.” “I’ll finish this story/get an agent or publisher/get good reviews and sales as soon as I’m a ‘real writer.’ ”
But what those ostensible carrots are really saying is that you aren’t currently worthy and you have to change yourself before you can be. It’s an insidious way of flogging ourselves—insidious because we may not even realize what we’re doing, thinking we’re simply striving to be our best or the best, like society inculcates in us from such a young age.
That’s just a carrot-shaped stick.
Read more: “ ’Seeing Myself *Like* Myself Is Pretty Damn Good’ “
Besides the overtly damaging effects of this stealthy negative messaging, here’s the problem with this approach: We make the carrot external and flog ourselves with our own internal sticks, when it should be the other way around.
Let the rewards we pursue be those things that are within our ability to control and direct, and the negative motivators be those that we unavoidably encounter in the course of any life. Accentuate the positive, and while you’ll never eliminate the negative, we can at least avoid defining our lives, careers, and selves by that paradigm and bringing it upon ourselves.
What does that look like in practice?
Let’s say you’ve been invited onto a podcast or panel to talk about your work and your career. The stick approach means you might immediately start worrying about how you will be perceived, who is in the audience, who else is on the panel and whether you belong on it with them or can hold your own. It means you might wonder if you deserve the spotlight or have earned it, or whether you are a fraud and this might be the event that unmasks you. (As may or may not have happened to me in the past…but it has. Of course.)
Read more: “Attack of the Inner Demons”
It might mean you compare yourself to the other panelists, whether they’ve published or sold more books than you, or been in the business longer, or gotten more and better or higher-profile reviews, or write in a more respected genre or with a more prestigious publisher. It might mean you worry about whether you’ll have anything valuable to say, or will get enough airtime, or if anyone will even find what you have to say interesting. Whether it will help you sell books or impress the right people—or you will fall flat on your face, a boring, self-absorbed, sad little phony.
All of that swirling around in your head is not only very likely to freeze you up and undermine you in the very areas you’re worrying about, but it’s almost guaranteed to keep you from actually enjoying what could and should be a gratifying and enjoyable thing: being invited to share and talk about your work with people who are likely to be interested in it.
The Magic of Positive Reinforcement
What does it look like if you instead allow yourself to be motivated by your own internal carrots, rather than those destructive internal sticks?
You might focus on the pleasure of being around and in conversation with people with whom you share interests, or who you respect or admire, or who offer intriguing insights or thoughts. You might be able to enjoy the fun of talking about a story you have worked on and loved for such a long time, share what excites you about it. You might learn something from others who may have knowledge and experiences different from or even more comprehensive than yours.
You might simply enjoy conversation and connection with another person.
Most of the things you worry about when flogging yourself with the stick are entirely out of your control—but all of the things related to an internal carrot are within it.
Moreover, the carrot lets you be fully present in the moment, open and receptive to the experiences you’re actually having, whereas the stick keeps you focused on the past you may berate yourself with and the future that makes you anxious or fearful.
You can extrapolate the same ideas to any of the pursuits you undertake as an author: writing your first draft, receiving critique, editing and revision, and yes, even marketing and querying.
In fact it’s actually a pretty good guideline for creating a happy, rewarding life.
I’ve spent a lot of time and effort over years of self-examination and study (and cognitive behavioral therapy) to learn how to quiet and disarm those negative thoughts—and yet every now and then the internal stick sneaks up on me without my even realizing, like a disturbing electrical hum in the background you may not even be consciously aware of but that jars your every nerve ending.
When that happens, as it did just recently, it undermines my confidence, my self-image, and my joie de vivre…all without my realizing why I might find myself feeling low, or creatively blocked, or worry I’ve lost my mojo.
When I finally realized what I was doing I changed my messaging and my approach, speaking to myself with compassion and kindness, and almost instantly the clouds lifted.
Creativity—like all good things—responds much more dynamically and constructively and enjoyably to the carrot, not the stick.
Over to you, authors: Take a moment to honestly examine the internal messaging you may not even be consciously aware you’re sending yourself. What’s the tenor of that inner voice? How do you motivate yourself or gauge your progress—is it by noting what you’ve achieved and what’s working well, as well as where you could continue to improve it? Or do you latch right onto the negative—the shortcomings and the lacks, where you fall short instead of where you’re succeeding and could continue to grow?
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24 Comments. Leave new
Hi Tiffany – Love your posts. I’m an author, book coach and editor too. Could you leave a comment on Yelp about this guy and his methods? Negative feedback will hurt his business and hopefully shut him down.
Hi, Chrystie. Thanks for the comment and the kind word! I don’t want to attack anyone’s livelihood, though–I don’t agree with his techniques, but there are plenty of dog training schools of thought that incorporate shock collars, and owners who choose to use them, especially for more troubling behaviors. I think sometimes it can be the lesser of evils if it keeps a dog/humans safe.
Your posts are so helpful, Tiffany! This couldn’t have come at a better time. I’m working on a major revision of a memoir I’ve worked on for eight or so years. Just this morning I found myself thinking…This project is unlikely to find a publisher…And if it does, it won’t receive the critical acclaim I once thought it might…Why would anyone even care about this?…The events are all (in one timeline, anyway) so far away…A scene about gender roles that would have been sharp cultural comment some years ago is now passe…I should have written it then…I’m too old to be culturally relevant…I should let young people lead this conversation……I am passe…I won’t ever have the success I once thought I would as a writer, and I need to come to terms with that.
That last comment may be true…But the others are my version of the stick. It’s not a stick that motivates but one that shuts me down. The internal carrots? I love writing! The act of writing fills me with joy. Taking the raw material of my life and making something beautiful is what I strive to do. I do think there’s beauty and power in what I’ve written. I need to move past my fears of “not enough” … Sometimes that is hard.
Thank you for your encaouragement.
Whew, you spiraled down the dark rabbit hole! Been there, friend–and I’m glad you pulled yourself out of it. It helps me to remind myself that these thoughts aren’t the truth–they are distorted thoughts, conclusions, generalizations. And to remember to take a kinder approach toward myself–one I’d take with anyone else struggling with whatever it is I’m beating myself up over.
Glad you’re back to nibbling on your internal carrot. 🙂 Thanks for sharing this.
I needed this today, Tiffany. Thank you! I’ve been using the ‘shock-collar’ so much I’ve completely imobilized my thinking – I’m deep into analysis paralysis. This helped me realize what I’m doing so I can turn it around. My biggest and best carrot? I’ve written a book!!! I’ve wanted to for years and now I have. Go me!
That is indeed a big accomplishment–think how many people talk about doing it and never finish–or even start. Go, you! 🙂 Thanks for the comment.
I’d never use a shock collar on my dog, but boy do I use one on myself- thank you for this great analogy
PS- Highly recommend Susan Garrett’s online trainings- she’s very kind and effective https://dogsthat.com/podcast-all-episodes/
Whew, me too–sometimes I turn it up to 11. 😉 Off to check out the Susan Garrett videos–you correctly intuit that this sort of thing fascinates me. Thanks, Randall.
This post is why I always save your newsletter and make sure I find time to read it. It’s heartening to know you’re also an animal person in the same way I am—which translates to every relationship, including the one we have with ourselves, doesn’t it?
I hadn’t thought of it that way–but maybe you’re right. Although I wish I were as unfailingly gentle and accepting with myself as I am with my dog. I tell him all the time he’s perfect just as he is, a perfect Gavin (despite his craziness and quirks). It would be nice if I could feel that about being a perfect Tiffany more often. 🙂
Makes my day to hear that you regularly enjoy the blog, Shannon–thanks!
I love all of your posts, but this might be my favorite one. When I adjusted my mindset to what experience I wanted to offer my readers, the stick aspect of my writing diminished greatly.
I worry less now whether my writing is a vague quality, “good” or “dynamic”, and focus more on how to provide a reader with a feeling of collaboration, connection, or community. It’s a subtle shift, but it’s helped me write more fluidly. You’ve helped me see why it works now!
I love that shift, Maggie–I can see why you find it useful. That’s what always helps me in those shock-collar moments: moving my focus off myself and outward, onto whatever is enjoyable or exciting for me about what I’m doing. (Speaking of exciting, I’ve also heard that thinking of nervousness as excitement can help when we’re feeling anxious–and so far in my experience, it does.) Thanks for sharing this, and for the kind word about the blog–means a lot!
Great post today, Tiffany, as usual. Several things come to mind; I once read a story called “Pablo Casals, Dissatisfied Genius.” It is about how he was never satisfied with his cello playing and used that motivation to become one of the best cellists in the world, continually seeking to improve. Another is about complacency. It seldom results in excellence. That said, your point about not beating yourself up is a terrific one. As Mark Twain once said, “Keep away from people who try to belittle your ambitions. Small people always do that, but the really great make you feel that you, too, can become great.” So, if you surround yourself with a great “you,” you can become great too, at least in your own mind. This is sort of the stick-shaped carrot! Sorry, I couldn’t resist.
Ha! I see your point (and I like the Twain quote very much). But yeah, I personally try to stay on guard against striving for “great” or “the best.” My personal demons (perfectionism, impostor syndrome) mean that those become major shock collars for me and strip away my zest for what I’m doing. In fact I have a mantra that might sound underwhelming, but man, it’s been my lifesaver and really improved my enjoyment of pursuits: “Good enough is good enough.” And most of the time it really is. If I strive beyond that, I try to make sure it’s for me, not to prove or earn anything. That way lies a bad headspace for me.
Most of life is just figuring our own shit out, though, isn’t it? What works best for us, how to overcome our personal cocktail of anxieties and neuroses…? (Or perhaps I’ve said too much…) 😀 Thanks for the comment, as always.
Uncannily perfect timing as always, Tiffany! So needed this. Thank you!
Glad to hear it hit the right chord, Tara!
Great stuff, Tiffany. Thanks.
There’s about a shelf of material supporting what you advocate; I haven’t read the whole shelf, but two of the most helpful ideas I found in it follow:
First, positive feedback is more helpful than negative, in part because it’s more specific. It helps us focus on what’s wanted rather than what’s not wanted. As Gavin might say, “OK. I know that I’ll get in trouble if I chew on this shoe, bark at the neighbor, nap on the sofa, etc., but I really, really want to, and I don’t know what to do instead that’ll satisfy me, and you’ll also approve of. That’s why I look so confused.”
Second, “Stand in the corner for ten minutes and don’t think of a red hippopotamus.” Right! Probably impossible now that that red hippo has been introduced. From what I read, it’s as if our psyche, at least in matters like these, either does not hear or does not respond to the ‘not.’ So, it’s probably better to keep the negatives out of it; they’re a distraction at best.
Both are helpful when formulating goals: not only can you not prove a negative, you can’t do one either.
BTW, that funny dog, Gavin, is very fortunate, and he probably never has a bad day.
Yeah, a lot of my own thinking on these topics probably comes from many of those books you mention. I have a shelf-full myself. 🙂
The specific thing–yes! In fact that’s very much a part of our trainer’s approach, as you suggested: that Gavin needs to know exactly what is expected from him, so he knows how to offer that and get what he wants in return. A very transactional relationship, ours… 😉 And he has to have better options–so it’s not just “look away from the crazy lunging dog”–the negative feedback–but “look at me,” the positive replacement behavior.
I’ve heard what you mention, too, about the brain not hearing “not”–just focusing on the concept, and I try to keep that in mind–in conjunction with the dog training approach of focusing more on what I do want rather than what I don’t. For the same reason.
Gavin is a very lucky dog, as are all of ours, who live the lives of royalty. 🙂 But I always think they give back at least as much as they get…usually more. <3 Thanks for the comment, Bob--nice to see you here.
Good advice for writing and life. People need to treat themselves more kindly. I’m no exception. A teacher once told me to strive for excellence, not perfection.
That’s good advice, James. It’s funny how much many of us have to remind ourselves–repeatedly!–to treat ourselves with kindness, especially when it often feels so instinctive to do it with others. Thanks for the comment.
As ever AMAZING! Really loved this line: ‘And has this punishment really changed your behavior or just your actions whenever your enforcer is around?’ So very true!
It also made me reflect on a recent episode. In December I sent a sample to my agent, she loved it, as Xmas was in three days we agreed we’d catch up in New Year.
Well, I think I thought she was doing something and didn’t bother her, short story: last Friday night she emailed me asking how I was getting on. Boy did I panic!!
I checked the email she’d sent and I was quite convinced it was her I was waiting for rather than me.
But you know what I did?
Rather than getting into the he said/ she said saga I dug out the proposal info she’d sent me earlier in the year and I sat my butt down and I put it together. I said to myself: YOU CAN DO IT!
Tiffany, I have never written a proposal so fast!
She has since come back to me telling me I have CRACKED IT! Yes, CRACKED IT! And that my energy comes off the page.
We’re doing a Zoom shortly and I can’t believe I’m going to be ready for her going to London Book Fair. Yes, I dare to dream because you know what – the carrot tastes way better than the stick (and it’s better for your eyesight!!)
Syl, congratulations! What a great feeling. It’s funny how pressure like that can spur you into good work, isn’t it? I think it can force you into a less rigid mindset (“it has to be done, not perfect”) that can be freeing. Fingers crossed for you as your agent pitches the manuscript. Thanks for sharing such great news.
Hi Tiffany, love this. I am returning to the craft after two decades of writer’s block and learning that carrots do indeed work better than sticks and the stick was what silenced my voice in the first place. I am now taking time to truly enjoy the process. What could be better than spending time writing a novel? For me, it is the best thing. Also as a lifelong dog lover (we have lived with two Scotties who are super loyal and stubborn!) who trained one of my dogs with help, I can share that consistency is key. I want to recommend a wonderful book by monks(!) in upstate NY whose German Shepherd pups are among the most highly sought by law enforcement. They use (limited) crate training and positive reinforcement to build a loving respectful bond between humans and canine which is what we all want :). They have a few books but the main one is The Art of Raising a Puppy With Love by the Monks of New Skete. Game changer for anyone who wants a calm, happy dog who is fearless and fun.
Margaret, here’s how I know we’re simpatico–that you paired story and dogs as two of your favorite things. 🙂 I haven’t read the book you recommend, but I’ve long been a massive fan of the monks of New Skete. How to Be Your Dog’s Best Friend is my bible on pet parenting (and shepherds are my favorite breed, so I especially love seeing theirs…and am grateful they understand the shepherd mindset; Gavin is mostly German shepherd and shares many of their traits…both the wonderful ones and the more challenging ones 🙂 ). If we ever get a puppy (we seem to adopt adults, mostly what we find at the shelter) I’ll definitely read the one you suggest–thanks.
Love that you’re allowing yourself to enjoy the process of your writing now. It’s most of the time we dedicate to it, so to me it’s so important that it satisfy and fulfill us.