We’re all made of the same basic building blocks. We all eat, drink, work, sleep…lather, rinse, repeat every 24 hours. The Constitution even confirms that we’re all created equal.

But somehow, we just don’t get that “all” includes us, too.

She sings like an angel. I sound like a cat being attacked by a lawn mower.

He’s written five bestselling novels and he’s only twenty-six. I’m um…not twenty-six and have barely finished one book that approximately nine people know about.

The entire planet follows them on social media. My dog follows me to the kitchen.

So, why do we habitually catapult those we admire to godlike status, while relegating ourselves to watching silently from the cheap seats?

I think it’s because we forget (or at least I do) that those who have attained stratospheric success are there for inspiration…not imitation.

Big difference.

In the midst of flailing about writing my first novel (which is now thankfully in the hands of some amazing beta readers as I write this), one of my favorite – and futile – things to do was to look at famous authors and note all the ways that I wasn’t following in their esteemed footsteps.

I don’t write long tomes (my head explodes when I think of Ayn Rand spinning out 1000+ pages for Atlas Shrugged).

I’m big on dialogue and nearly non-existent when it comes to description (welcome to the side effect of 25+ years of screenwriting).

And I’m completely missing the “vampires and wizards obsession” chip (somehow I doubt that Anne Rice and J.K. Rowling are losing any sleep over this, since I am one of approximately 15 people worldwide who feel this way).

But the further along I get in my own work, the more I realize that even if I wanted to imitate the aforementioned greats…it’s just not gonna happen.

And it shouldn’t.

Mark Twain said, “Comparison is the death of joy.” And he’s right.

Because there is nothing that sucks the beauty and fun out of creation like wallowing in angst because you don’t paint like Cezanne, sing like Adele or write brilliant prose about blood-sucking creatures of the night or magical adolescents who fly around on broomsticks.

You weren’t put here to be a half-assed copy of someone else. Respect the talented masters that you admire, but don’t revere them. They are just like you, except they’re doing the one thing you might be avoiding:

Being 100% true to who they were created to be.

So, take them off the pedestal. Or better yet, climb up there with them.

There’s more room at the top than you think.

I’m not saying competition doesn’t serve a purpose. Try having a Super Bowl where no one wins. Or a marketplace where there is only one brand of anything available. Sometimes we need competition in the world to keep things exciting and in balance.

But what about in your own life?

There has to be at least one person on your path that you must strive to outdo on a regular basis, right?

The co-worker who has everyone mesmerized by his Ivy League education while you’re still plugging away at your undergraduate degree.

Your sibling who founded a Fortune 500 company and bought your parents a condo in Palm Beach.

The frenemy who  prances into the gym baring her six pack abs…while munching happily on a donut.

So, who exactly is your biggest competition? The one that you should be trying to best at every turn?

Look in the mirror.

But self-competition is not a license to turn your rivalrous tendencies inward and beat yourself to a pulp with them. It’s simply an opportunity to let go of caring so much about what everyone else is doing, and figure out what really matters to you (not Donut Abs or Mr. Harvard).

Author  Jeff Goins offers a brilliant piece of advice when it comes to self-evaluation:  “Listen to your ache.” This doesn’t mean to berate yourself because you aren’t as far along as someone else.  Rather, it involves noticing whether you feel an inner pang when you see that person succeeding at something that you know in your soul that you, too, can achieve.

The physical and/or emotional signals may be mild or monumental. But they shouldn’t be ignored.

Here’s why.

My good friend Jennifer Blanchard is a bestselling author of over eight books (fiction and non-fiction), and counting.  I am hugely proud of her, and have always been inspired by both her talent and her tenacity.

But I remember one day earlier this year when I opened my email to see the announcement for the release of her latest eBook. I felt the warm, familiar “good for her” feeling rise in my heart. But right along with my sincere kudos, I felt something else.

A sinking in my stomach, and a voice that whispered, “Ugh. Why aren’t you doing that, too?”

My “authorship ache” was calling to me loud and clear.

In the past I would’ve ignored it. Trotted out my litany of excuses ranging from lack of time to a plethora of paranoia over the oh-so-scary world of self-publishing.

All of my rationale was complete bullsh*t. And because I knew that deep down, the cost of ignoring my ache was very high.

Anxiety. Panic. Stress. Sadness.

But this time, I’d had enough.

I started writing down every single idea I could think of for eBook topics. Some were horrible, others pretty damn good. I had no idea where I was going with any of them, but the point was – for once – I was going to go somewhere.

Not long after that, my aforementioned crazy-prolific friend invited me to attend her online “Write and Publish Your eBook in 10 Days” workshop.

And before I could talk myself out of it, I thanked her profusely and said, “Count me in!”

I’d love to tell you I was completely Zen from that moment on. Never once wondering how I was going to complete the book, or if it would suck beyond all measure.

That was absolutely not the case.  Self-doubt was my constant companion until the day I hit the “publish” button.

But so was an odd sense of peace.

Because even if I never sold one copy, it would’ve been worth it to finally go through the process I’d been dreading for years. To be rid of that that nagging feeling that I was dodging a piece of my destiny.

So, now it’s your turn.

If you have an ache, here’s the bad news.

It will never, ever, ever (did I say ever?) go away.

Unless…

You listen to it, and give it the attention you’d lavish on a child (or cherished pet) that was desperate for your love.

The pain will not merely dissolve. It will morph into something that every one of us craves, whether we admit it or not:

A feeling of accomplishment.

That moment of “I f—ing did it”  that can never be taken from you.

So, stop telling yourself, “The world doesn’t need my (book/film/poem/banana pancake recipe).” It’s not about whether the entire planet needs it. It’s the fact that SOMEONE on this spinning blue orb does.

How dare you hold it back from them?

Heeding the call of your ache is one instance where it’s not a numbers game.  Impact is what matters.

All it takes is one person (or a handful of people) to connect with what you do, and the repercussions can be beautifully staggering.  Your fingerprints will be forever on this generation, and on those beyond it.

But only if you keep your focus solely on your biggest competition.

Run your own race. It’s the only one you were ever meant to win.

But the fact is, it’s hard to improve your writing when you aren’t actually doing it.

So, the other thing I’m always looking for are surefire tips on how to get my ass moving when everything but the keyboard is calling for my attention.

And thanks to blogger Ali Luke’s wise words, I have found a method that works for me every time I use it.

It’s hugely scientific. You may want to take notes.

Ready?  Here goes…

Open the Damn Document (ODD).

It’s so deceptively simple that it’s tempting to just blow it off. Oh, right. Opening the document is going to magically make the piece write itself.

Unfortunately, that isn’t the case. But the tiny step of putting yourself – literally – within arm’s length of the page makes it infinitely more likely that you’ll get down to business.

And yes, this works when your project is overwhelming. Especially when it’s overwhelming. Because it’s much easier to stomach the thought of merely opening a file than it is to obligate yourself to War and Peace-level output.

I recently had to put this technique into major practice when I wrote and published my first eBook: Gratitude Adjustment: 5 Simple Shifts To Refresh Your Perspective and Ignite Your Life. Even though it was planned to be a very short book, I was still freaked out by the possibility of…well, everything.

You know nothing about this kind of format. What makes you think you can put out a book on Kindle all by yourself? You are such a techno-idiot, you will probably single-handedly blow up Amazon when you hit the ‘publish’ button. And why do you think anyone cares about your take on gratitude? I’m pretty sure the Dalai Oprah has that one covered.

So – being the wildly enlightened person that I am –  I listened slavishly to the aforementioned bullsh*t and proceeded to procrastinate like a demon.

Oh my God…there’s a science project growing in the toilet. I’d better clean it up immediately or else the dogs might drink the water and die.

Uh, oh. We’re out of vanilla extract. And chocolate chips. I haven’t baked since MTV actually played music videos, but suddenly I’m feeling a Tollhouse cookie deficiency. Hey, it’s a blood sugar issue. It’ll just take me ten minutes to run to the store.

But one sparkling toilet and three trays of baked goods later, I was still firmly rooted in my authorship avoidance.

So, it was time to engage in some ODD behavior.

I went to my laptop and opened the page of notes I’d started for the book. The urge to get up and clean something or have a Betty Crocker relapse was still there. But it wasn’t nearly as strong as before.

Come on, you’ve got your butt in the chair and the page in front of you. Just write a few words. Then you’re free to keep your hot date with the vacuum cleaner.

So, I jotted a few words. Which turned into a few paragraphs. And one hour later, the Hoover was still sitting forlornly in the corner while my book took on a life of its own.

Even if you’re not a writer, the ODD principle is still one you can apply to your own pursuits.

Want to become a great chef? Don’t freak yourself out by trying to figure out how you’re going to afford living in Paris while you train at Le Cordon Bleu.  Buy a cookbook and play with a recipe or two.

Tired of living like a human beanbag chair? Skip buying $1500 worth of clothing racks…um, I mean exercise equipment…and start with a walk around the block.

Goethe was on to this concept well over 150 years ago when he wrote, “Whatever you can do, or dream you can, begin it. Boldness has genius, power and magic in it.”

Just choose one step. Keep it simple. Then keep it up.

You’ll be amazed where you’ll go from there.

Normally, that phrase is said with irony after some outlandish statement.  (“This cake contains anti-oxidant laden dark chocolate, plus protein rich milk and eggs.  Therefore, it makes perfect sense for me to be shoveling it in my mouth at six-thirty in the morning.  Pretty sure Jillian Michaels eats a slice right before she bench presses a truck.”)

I have definitely used sticking to my story in defense of breakfast cake (and will continue to do so).  But I’ve also employed it in some less frivolous scenarios.  Like sticking to a story I really wanted to write when it just wasn’t working.

I have a good friend who once had a severe gambling addiction.  At one point, her habit put her so far in debt that she stopped opening her mail because she couldn’t do anything about the bills that kept piling up.  She took out multiple payday loans until she finally got turned down for one.

The day that happened, she had a nearly zero balance in her bank account.

After slamming into the proverbial rock bottom, she joined Gamblers Anonymous.  She turned her life around, and went on to help many other women do the same.  I was – and still am – so incredibly proud of her.

I remember thinking, “Wow, this would make a great novel if I just fictionalized it!”  It was dramatic, raw and an extremely personal tale.  I couldn’t imagine there wasn’t an audience for it.

Without much additional thought beyond that, I forged blindly ahead.

Never mind that if I won $50 in a slot machine, I would freak out like a game show contestant, squirrel away my bounty and call it a night.

That I gave up blackjack upon realizing that having to repeatedly count to 21 was too much for my math phobic brain.

And I didn’t even know how to play poker.

But, yes, I was going to write an entire book about the horrors of gambling addiction.

So, I spent months outlining the novel.  Created a full cast of characters.  Hung out in casinos.  Even interviewed a gambling addiction therapist.

But when it came time to write the story…I just couldn’t do it.

And I berated myself endlessly for it.

What’s wrong with you?  What about all the time you’ve spent?  You’ve got the outline complete! Just suck it up and write the damned thing!

It seemed to have all the seeds of success.  But the more I stared at my piles of research, synopses, etc., the more I became mired in my misgivings.

The bottom line was, I was clinging to something that came from my head, not my heart.

So I let it go.

Sticking too long with a fictional tale that stalled out wasn’t the end of the world.  I learned a lot about who I am as a writer.  And I can always pull it out of mothballs if I feel the calling.

But I have also stuck to stories that didn’t work for me in real life.

I know the importance of a good narrative.  And I like to think that when I’m writing a book or a screenplay, I’m spinning a pretty good tale.

Engaging.  Interesting.  Uplifting.

But  when it comes to my own life, sometimes the tales I spin are not the best.

Critical. Doubtful.  Fearful.

I don’t know how to be a business person.

I’m so far from where I should be in my writing life.

I am a technological idiot.

That last one almost derailed my efforts to start this blog.

I knew deep down for years that I needed to put my writing out there online.  And I received countless feedback from others that confirmed what my gut kept telling me:

Stop being terrified of everything you don’t understand.  Your fears are keeping you frozen.

But, because my perfectionistic streak is a mile wide, I decided that anything less than being a programmer equaled complete and utter incompetence.

God forbid I should put out anything less than the greatest website ever known to mankind. 

I am going to look so stupid next to all these pro bloggers with 50 billion followers.

I’d better wait until I have a full understanding of all aspects of social media before I unveil myself.

As I write this, I am hugely embarrassed that I ever thought this way.  Don’t get me wrong, I am still scared to death of half the things I do…especially when it comes to technology.

But at least now I’ve gotten over myself and accepted the fact that not being able to wax poetic on the virtues of SEO or thinking that a “plug-in” is an air freshener doesn’t make me a moron.  (Okay, maybe that second one does.)

But I am who I am.

I live with techie butterflies in my stomach almost daily.

I still pray every time I open WordPress that I don’t click on anything that will send my site into cyber oblivion.

But  I’m doing the best I can.  And I’m having a really good time along the way.

And that’s a story I can stick with.

Like a lot of writers, I compulsively collect books – especially ones that promise to jumpstart my imagination, kill writers block and make me a genius storyteller. But given that I was about three paperbacks away from securing a starring role on Hoarders, I reluctantly decided to  whittle down my literary stash.  But the upside of this purging of the pages was that I rediscovered several gems that I (and maybe you) can’t live without.  Not only did they shape my outlook on writing, story craft and creativity from the first reading,  they have drawn me back time and again whenever I need  a shot of inspiration or education.

May I present to you (in no particular order) my Fab Five:

Wired for Story by Lisa Cron – It’s no secret that everyone loves a great tale.  But it turns out that there is far more to it that just seeking entertainment and escape.  Our  brains are literally hardwired to become immersed in story, and have been since our Stone Age ancestors first sat around bragging about hunting wooly mammoths.  Cron does a masterful job of explaining the neuroscience behind this theory, but more importantly she reveals what the brain craves from every tale it encounters and how you can use these secrets to hook your reader from page one.

The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron – Being that TAW has been a bestseller for over 20 years, I’m obviously not the only one who feels this is the ultimate guide to living the creative life.  Cameron offers plenty of great insights and exercises, but her two main tenets are Morning Pages  (three pages of handwritten free writing done first thing every morning) and Artist Dates (a weekly date with yourself to do something fun and inspirational to recharge your creative batteries).  When I keep up with those two simple practices, new story ideas, characters and serendipitous opportunities seem to pop out of nowhere.  When I fall off the map with them?  Ouch.

Story Engineering by Larry Brooks – Whether you’ve been struggling with your novel  or haven’t even started because you have no earthly clue where to begin, this book is for you.  A former screenwriter and current bestselling author, Brooks teaches what he calls “The 6 Core Competencies of Writing”, and that structure and planning are just as important as artistry when it comes to telling a compelling story.  Following any sort of formula may seem like a recipe for sucking the spontaneity right out of your writing process, but it actually has the opposite effect.  When you develop a roadmap for your story, you still have the freedom to take detours along the way since you know exactly where you’re going to end up.  Try it.  You’ll like it.

The Writing Warrior by Laraine Herring – This book came into my life when I was introduced to the author by a mutual friend.  And it was a timely meeting,  because I had been feeling like anything but a “warrior” when it came to my writing.  I was sidetracked by fear, distractions and constantly comparing myself to anyone that I viewed as more successful than me (read: everyone on the planet).  But as I dove into the book with a doubtful chip on my shoulder, I soon realized that Herring knew a thing or two about shattering illusions and self judgment and gently rebuilding the spirit that made you want to write in the first place.  She also teaches a simple 3 part practice that uses breath and physical movement coupled with free writing to help dissolve blocks and open the creative floodgates.  And much like the Morning Pages, the rewards far exceed the short amount of time you spend on the practice (about 15 minutes total). Screenplay: The Foundations of Screenwriting by Syd Field – If you’ve ever wanted to write a screenplay – honestly – this  is the only book you’ll ever need. Until his death last year, Field spent over  50 years writing about and teaching screenwriting, and has been credited with virtually inventing the three act paradigm that is the standard for feature films.  Aside from walking you step by step through the process of constructing your script, Field offers advice on everything from collaboration and adapting a novel for the screen to marketing the final product.  He also includes excerpts from classic films such as Chinatown to illustrate elements like scene development and setup.  No surprise, Screenplay has been translated into 16 languages and used as a textbook in more than 250 colleges across the country (which is where I first discovered it).

So, if you’ve got space on your shelves, I invite you to make one or more of these amazing reads part of your collection. Or better yet, get them all on your Kindle.  It’ll make it a lot harder for people to accuse you of being a hoarder.