Embracing Fear

     Facing the blank page, submitting work for publication, and getting dreaded rejections can trigger paralyzing fears.  We might freeze when starting a new project, fuss over our work and endlessly revise it chasing impossible “perfection,” or break into a sweat whenever we submit our writing to for others to read. 
     However, it is possible to turn fear into an ally.
     First, I find encouragement knowing I’m not alone with my fears: 

     In The Courage to Write: How Writers Transcend Fear, author Ralph Keyes quotes successful published authors and their experiences with fear.
​     He says, “Fear is felt by writers at every level.  Anxiety accompanies the first word they put on paper and the last. …their best ideas are personal, candid, and deeply felt.  Yet such ideas make them feel subnaked before the world.” 

     My most common recurring fears are:

• failure, humiliation and shame 
• not (ever) being good enough 
• running out of time 
• rejection 

     It’s helpful to know that rejections are a common experience in the publishing industry, yet every time an editor passes on my work, I go into a brief shame spiral.
     I try to remind myself that successful authors are persistent authors, and of the Japanese proverb: Fall down seven times, get up eight.

     William Kenower suggests the antidote to the fear and vulnerability writing is focusing on the story itself.  In Fearless Writing: How to Create Boldly and Write with Confidence he says,  “Why you want to share your stories will both teach you how to share them and keep you safe from the fear that sharing engenders. ... To write fearlessly and with complete confidence, you must rest in your unconditional love for the story you’re telling.” 

     I love spinning stories and creating interesting characters, many of whom become “friends.”  Publishing allows others to fall in love with these fictional characters and share in their adventures. I also try to imbue my work with meaningful themes, such as spiritual connection with the natural world and inclusiveness, where absolutely everyone has a place at the table, including my villains.

     Ralph Keyes notes that “Writers work under constant threat of public ridicule and rejection.” 
     But in Art & Fear: Observations on the Perils (and Rewards) of Artmaking, authors David Bayles and Ted Orland advise creatives to focus on the integrity of the story itself.  “Audience comes later. The only pure communication is between you and your work.” 

​     I must learn to balance writing in a way readers can enjoy, responding to critiques from editors and other writers, and staying true to my own vision—without getting paralyzed by fear. 
     Some days it’s especially challenging to quiet my inner critic. 
​     Ultimately, I must come back to my character “friends” and the story I want to tell, then pray for the courage to tell it.

“Everything you’ve ever wanted is on the other side of fear.”  —George Adair.

• I try to start every writing session with a brief ritual.  I light incense and pray to be inspired and guided in what I write.  Lately I’ve also been praying to “embrace and cherish” my fears.  A tall order, but it does (temporarily) shift my dread.
• Reading craft books and taking classes often inspire me to write, as does reading great fiction or fascinating nonfiction.  Once I’m inspired, it’s easier to dive into writing.
• When I’m stuck in a particular story and can’t seem to regain my momentum, I may go back to an earlier passage and move forward from there, or switch to a different project.  Writing blogs and book reviews for my website and taking stock for my monthly newsletter provide creative outlets when my stories or poems aren’t working.
• I’ve also started keeping a daily word-tally, which helps incentivize getting words “on paper.”  I count each major revision of a story, which helps me celebrate my progress.  
• Sending stories and poems out for submission is always scary, but it helps if I reread my work to regain that thrill of completion.

     In The Courage to Write, Ralph Keyes admits, “I feared…I would be revealed as an imposter: someone who said he could write a book but couldn’t.”  It’s easy to fall into imposter syndrome when my work doesn’t measure up to my expectations.
     Bayles & Orland address this issue in Art & Fear: 
​     “The irony here is that the piece you make is always one step removed from what you imagined, or what else you can imagine, or what you’re right on the edge of being able to imagine. …The poem in the head is always perfect.  Resistance begins when you try to convert it into language.” 

     My fear that I’m not “good enough” or will never “make it” as a “real author” triggers my perfectionism.  But what does “perfect” mean in terms of writing?  Every reader has unique tastes.  You may not finish a book I adore and reread with delight.  I'm learning that there's no one right way to tell a story.  Instead, I strive to craft the words that most closely convey the story I want to tell.

    Author Sarah Callender reveals that even success can be terrifying in her delightful essay “Writing (and Living) in the Midst of Fear.”  After ten years she finally sold her novel, and was confronted with new fears.  She uses her fear of being strafed by crows to explore how “like a contagion, fear infects our hearts and brains, our relationships and communities.  Even when there’s good reason to feel scared, fear tempts us to retreat, isolate, blame, hoard.”
     She recommends playing with crow finger puppets and “continue using words to expand the world, to amplify empathy, to fertilize the love-parts of our fellow human’s hearts.”

     In The Art of Mistakes Melanie Rothschild suggests “Mistakes give us ideas we could never deliberately think up otherwise. …And most of the time, the price we pay for avoiding mistakes is the loss of stretching our thinking in substantive, new ways.  There are serious consequences for not understanding the nature of how mistakes serve us.”  Rothschild encourages us to embrace “mistakes” as part of the creative process.
     The goal then is not to avoid “mistakes” or write “perfectly,” but to honor the integrity of each project.

In Fearless Writing, William Kenower advises us to “look upon writing as a practice—meaning something at which you gradually improve and are not expected to be perfect at every time you attempt it.” 

     Kenower also says, “The best writers exploit fear’s energy to billow the sails of their imaginations. They convert anxiety into enthusiasm and an unparalleled source of energy.”
     I have found it beneficial to give my characters my deepest fears: rejection, abandonment, failure.  By forcing my characters to face these fears and vicariously experiencing their courage, I become a smidge more comfortable. 
     And as much as possible, I let my imagination play.

I’ve come to accept that fear will always be a companion on my writing journey.  And as my author friend LaShaunda C. Hoffman says about writing with fear: “Do it scared.”

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