And then I would go away quietly and get the kind of job where you don't have to make things up any more. In my case, I was convinced that there would be a knock on the door, and a man with a clipboard (I don't know why he carried a clipboard, in my head, but he did) would be there, to tell me it was all over, and they had caught up with me, and now I would have to go and get a real job, one that didn't consist of making things up and writing them down, and reading books I wanted to read. It's Impostor Syndrome, something my wife Amanda christened the Fraud Police.
The first problem of any kind of even limited success is the unshakable conviction that you are getting away with something, and that any moment now they will discover you. The problems of success can be harder, because nobody warns you about them. One more nugget from that commencement address: And you have to accept that you may put out a hundred things for every bottle that winds up coming back.
A freelance life, a life in the arts, is sometimes like putting messages in bottles, on a desert island, and hoping that someone will find one of your bottles and open it and read it, and put something in a bottle that will wash its way back to you: appreciation, or a commission, or money, or love. You need to be thickskinned, to learn that not every project will survive. When you start off, you have to deal with the problems of failure. Gaiman and His Wife Amanda Palmer / Getty Images 3.
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