I must say that I've been doing much better with my inner critic since my inner muse manifested itself in the shape of a small green dragon. Whenever the inner critic starts getting snide, the muse and I gang up on her. We've developed a carrot and stick approach. If the inner critic keeps quiet during the first draft, we promise her that she'll eventually have a lovely messy draft to pick over. Also the muse and I won't beat her up. *g*
But what I'm really having trouble with at the moment is my inner defeatist aka The Voice of Reason, ie the little voice that keeps saying, "Well, this novel you're submitting. It's very good. Probably the best thing you've written. But it's still not good enough, is it? There are all these thousands and thousands of people writing novels and the standards go up each year -- especially for first novels. You never reckoned to be a best seller. Your ambition was just to write a few novels and sell a decent amount of copies, but no one wants midlist books any more, so how can you expect to get a break? I mean, good though your last novel is, it's not going to be a best seller, now is it? Why not give it all up and take up a less demanding hobby?"
The inner muse and I are trying to ignore the inner defeatist by sticking our fingers in our ears and chanting, "If a thing is worth doing, it's worth doing badly," over and over again.
What I really need is to get the new novel underway. I will try to type up the hand written page this evening while waiting for the evening class to start.
To be honest, I suspect half my qualms are just firstdraftophobia. Did I ever say that I hatesss firssst draftsessss?