It’s funny how some journeys sound idyllic on paper. You set forth with clear blue skies and total assurance of your own capabilities, and then the wind kicks up. Within seconds, you’re lost among the sodden wreckage, you struggle to stay afloat, but all the pieces drift apart and slowly … you sink.
The Write On Sisters blog started out this way, with my craved for, urgently demanded, and eagerly awaited opportunity to be out there as a fiction writer. As we labored over all the details, I looked forward to every moment I would share with my dearest writer gal pals, and to some future date when we would look back at each other and ourselves with the sweetness of nostalgia.
I can’t say just when the tides changed. It happened without warning and long before I’d typed a single word. While endless white space awaited my command, not a glimmer of an idea yielded my call, and that’s when the blog became something to dread. A job hanging over me, with a ticking timer already in to the danger zone. That’s when doubt set in.
What if I send out something with a typo? What if people say cruel things in the comments area? What if I lose the respect of my friends and family by revealing something ugly about myself? Or them? Fear is a terrible thing for anyone, but worse for a writer. Fear can stop us from taking the big step, the one where we reveal our words to the world.
Today I defeat fear. I will achieve this by accepting some universal truths.
I can’t please everyone, I’d like to … But … I can’t.
I will make mistakes, and some may even cost me dearly … But … I hope not.
I must surrender control over all the random variables of the web, the blog, the whims of my muse and fling myself face first into an ocean of fear.
To all the Sisters sitting in the darkness of fear, I say … leap! For I have faith that somewhere out there, you will find a fellow writer, a new sister, just waiting to pick you up should you crash during the landing.
Up Next from Robin … What Doth it Profit Thee? Building Historical Vocabulary.
Great post, Robin. Sheesh, you know, fear and I are close–I used to try and escape, and it always chased after me. Rather than continuing to play tag (both exhausting and sleep depriving), I stopped and had a heart to heart with it. Seems it had some good input and turned out to be a friend. So I have this thing now–I listen, reason, soothe and if it persists, pay attention (like if it tells me there’s someone lurking in a dark alley, I’ll probably keep to well lit areas). But most of the time I’ll do as you suggest, go ahead and leap.