The Fear

Fear is a huge thing in this writing game.

I'm afraid that I'll never make it as far as I want to.

I'm afraid that the words will stop coming.

I'm afraid that the ideas will dry up.

I'm afraid that each novel won't live up to what I have in my head.

I'm afraid that my readers, when they give me praise, are just trying to be nice--and that I'll think I'm better than I really am.

I'm afraid that my learning rate will plateau, that I'll reach a point where I can't improve anymore.

I'm afraid that my genre will go south, that agents won't be interested and editors won't be acquiring it when I finally manage to write the right book.

I'm afraid--and yes, this is ridiculous--that I'll stop loving the writing. I'm afraid it'll become a chore to me, that it'll be tainted with the bitterness of rejection.

I'm just plain afraid.

Fear is like a disease. It spreads from one thought to the next, infecting each with anxiety and doubt. If not treated soon enough, it can disable and destroy you.

I don't know how you treat it. Everyone has their own methods. Mine is fairly simple, and can be condensed into one word:

Write.*

When I'm writing, it's so much easier to push the fears back. Yes, they're still there, lurking in the dark corners of my mind. But the writing quiets them, calms them, makes it easier to concentrate on what's important. Maybe it's just because the writing distracts me, but I think it's something else: the love of writing is strong enough to beat back fear.

So when those dark corners grow larger and larger, when the voice of doubt shouts louder than the others, I sit down and I write. Or I think about my next project, and let the excitement for it do its job. Or I just remember all the good times, those thrilling moments when the characters become real, when the right words are close at hand, when the plot takes an unexpected turn.

Before I know it, I'm smiling. And that right there is the first step of recovery.


*Please consult your health professional before seeking treatment. Side effects may include euphoria, voices in your head, grammar nazi-ism, and obsession with fictional characters of your own creation. If you find yourself sitting in a cafe, wearing a beret and talking about "your art" or "the craft", please contact your doctor immediately.

NaNooooooo...

So, yeah. As I'm sure I mentioned previously, I'm doing NaNoWriMo again this year. Last year I died off right around day two. Hey, on days three and four, I was moving from one state back to another...I was a little busy, okay?

This year, however, my motto is "No Excuses."* Nothing is gonna stop me from winning this year. I have a great, fun little novel all lined up. I have multiple friends in the area who are joining me for the 30 Days of Crazy. I'm only working part time. And I'm not moving. From the keyboard. Until 12:01 on December 1.

I'm nervous as hell, though. Excited, yes. Itching to write, yes. Thrilled to have friends participating, yes. Nervous? BIG FAT YES. I mean, 50k in 30 days? Really? Are they kidding? I can't do that! It took me eight months (give or take a few, what with the indecision and other books I was working on) to write my last novel! And that clocked in at about 60k!

But then the little voice kicks in--the one I rarely listen to, because it's so quiet and tinny, sounds like it's coming from the other end of a long tunnel--and it says, "You can do this. The pressure will be good for you. The deadline will be good for you. And it'll be fun as hell."

You think I should listen? Yeah. I think I should listen.

FIVE DAYS, PEOPLE!


*I think that was also the motto of a jeans company at some point in time. Really, what kind of tagline is that for denim wear? "There is no excuse for why your butt looks big in these jeans." "There is no excuse for our refusal to size jeans like men's pants, so that you don't spend three hours just trying to find a pair that fits." No excuses, indeed.