Fear is a natural part of writing. Some of us may even start writing because of fear. Fear that we'll lose an idea if we don't write it down. Fear of emotions and worlds bursting inside of us. Or as a way to wrangle the fear that hunts us in our daily lives.
When we're new, we fear people reading our work. We fear criticism. We fear rejection.
As we grow used to these things and accept them as part of the writing process, new fear emerges. Fear that compliments are over inflated. Fear that we'll never be good enough. Fear that no one actually understands us. Fear that we'll never finish our work in progress and even if we do --
Fear that we're wasting our time.
Acceptance breeds new fear as well. Suddenly, we fear people reading us again. Strangers. We fear living up to the hype. We fear we're an imposter. We fear the story wasn't as good as we could have made it. Then suddenly, we fear no one will read it. Or that an acquaintance will, and then, we'll have to talk about it. "What inspired you?" "Does this relate to your childhood?" Then we fear we've exposed too much.
We fear ever being impressive again. We fear keeping it up.
We fear admitting this to other writers, and we fear admitting it to readers because we're still grappling with whether we're writing too much, or more often not enough, to validate these fears.
Wherever we are in our writing circle, we are writing or not writing to evade fear.
Fear of failure.
Fear of ourselves.
Fear of success.
And sometimes, fear of the ideas themselves.
Writers Block is usually nothing but fear, disguised as a lack of ideas. Disguised as a busy schedule.
But Writers Block is also comfort.
A familiar fight. Something to commiserate with others over, as a writer, without having to judge the quality or quantity of our work. Just say "Damn Writer's Block!" and you've not only established yourself as a writer but simultaneously justified your low word count. You may have even ensured no one will ask you serious questions about your current project, while taking a few free "You can do it"s thrown your way. We've evaded our worst fears.
Subconsciously of course.
Not writing offers us a cocoon to hide away. It isn't that we're not writers any more. Even if we take years or decades of hiatus. Ideas pop up to us all the time. Odd observations. Poetic insights. A way to say that better. They're so naturally a part of us that we take them for granted or dismiss them as things that wouldn't have lead anywhere, anyway.
Even this blog post started as a random shower thought that "fear is a natural part of writing." A sentence and nothing more.
There are lots of reasons we don't write. Many of them quite valid. The most valid being that every author needs a break at some point. To recharge. To focus on life, oftentimes a life that has come too demanding. But also, to just soak things in.
As David Sedaris says in Theft by Finding, "In order to record your life, you sort of need to live it. Not at your desk, but beyond it. Out in the world where it's so beautiful and complex and painful that sometimes you just need to sit down and write about it."
There's no shame in not writing, even though we say there is. In many ways, not writing is as much a part of the process as brainstorming, revision, and actual writing.
If you're stuck, and feeling "blocked," it's time to clear your head. Reset.
Forget the pressure of living up to some version of yourself, and just let whatever self you are now out.
The writer who is always producing excellent on-page first drafts is a myth, cobbled together from only seeing the revised and edited sweat-beaten work of those we aspire to be like, and the loss of our ability to love every one of our words the way we did when we first started putting them to paper.
When we let our naive, creative spirit run amok all over our journals and 'first novel' drafts.
A writer that is always putting excellent words to page doesn't exist, but a writer who is always writing does. If you count all the stories that never make it to the page, that get lost in the tangles of our daydreams, washed down the shower drain, and dismissed by our fear, the truth is, we're always writing. Always producing. It isn't that you have no ideas and nothing to say. It is that we have to brave enough to let them out. To try them. To change them and allow them to evolve. To expose them.
In this sense, every word we get on the page is a triumph, even when they're so bad they deserve to be edited into oblivion. Because we've left our comfort zone. We've faced or evaded our fear, opening ourselves up to new challenges and risks.
Writing is always the riskier move, even if no one reads it.
But the pay off... the release... the escape... the success, however momentary... is always worth it.
Because, to be a writer is to be who you truly are.
And, at least for those few hours of fevered creation, to not be afraid of who that is or what it all means.
When we're new, we fear people reading our work. We fear criticism. We fear rejection.
As we grow used to these things and accept them as part of the writing process, new fear emerges. Fear that compliments are over inflated. Fear that we'll never be good enough. Fear that no one actually understands us. Fear that we'll never finish our work in progress and even if we do --
Fear that we're wasting our time.
Acceptance breeds new fear as well. Suddenly, we fear people reading us again. Strangers. We fear living up to the hype. We fear we're an imposter. We fear the story wasn't as good as we could have made it. Then suddenly, we fear no one will read it. Or that an acquaintance will, and then, we'll have to talk about it. "What inspired you?" "Does this relate to your childhood?" Then we fear we've exposed too much.
We fear ever being impressive again. We fear keeping it up.
We fear admitting this to other writers, and we fear admitting it to readers because we're still grappling with whether we're writing too much, or more often not enough, to validate these fears.
Wherever we are in our writing circle, we are writing or not writing to evade fear.
Fear of failure.
Fear of ourselves.
Fear of success.
And sometimes, fear of the ideas themselves.
Writers Block is usually nothing but fear, disguised as a lack of ideas. Disguised as a busy schedule.
But Writers Block is also comfort.
A familiar fight. Something to commiserate with others over, as a writer, without having to judge the quality or quantity of our work. Just say "Damn Writer's Block!" and you've not only established yourself as a writer but simultaneously justified your low word count. You may have even ensured no one will ask you serious questions about your current project, while taking a few free "You can do it"s thrown your way. We've evaded our worst fears.
Subconsciously of course.
Not writing offers us a cocoon to hide away. It isn't that we're not writers any more. Even if we take years or decades of hiatus. Ideas pop up to us all the time. Odd observations. Poetic insights. A way to say that better. They're so naturally a part of us that we take them for granted or dismiss them as things that wouldn't have lead anywhere, anyway.
Even this blog post started as a random shower thought that "fear is a natural part of writing." A sentence and nothing more.
There are lots of reasons we don't write. Many of them quite valid. The most valid being that every author needs a break at some point. To recharge. To focus on life, oftentimes a life that has come too demanding. But also, to just soak things in.
As David Sedaris says in Theft by Finding, "In order to record your life, you sort of need to live it. Not at your desk, but beyond it. Out in the world where it's so beautiful and complex and painful that sometimes you just need to sit down and write about it."
There's no shame in not writing, even though we say there is. In many ways, not writing is as much a part of the process as brainstorming, revision, and actual writing.
If you're stuck, and feeling "blocked," it's time to clear your head. Reset.
Forget the pressure of living up to some version of yourself, and just let whatever self you are now out.
The writer who is always producing excellent on-page first drafts is a myth, cobbled together from only seeing the revised and edited sweat-beaten work of those we aspire to be like, and the loss of our ability to love every one of our words the way we did when we first started putting them to paper.
When we let our naive, creative spirit run amok all over our journals and 'first novel' drafts.
A writer that is always putting excellent words to page doesn't exist, but a writer who is always writing does. If you count all the stories that never make it to the page, that get lost in the tangles of our daydreams, washed down the shower drain, and dismissed by our fear, the truth is, we're always writing. Always producing. It isn't that you have no ideas and nothing to say. It is that we have to brave enough to let them out. To try them. To change them and allow them to evolve. To expose them.
In this sense, every word we get on the page is a triumph, even when they're so bad they deserve to be edited into oblivion. Because we've left our comfort zone. We've faced or evaded our fear, opening ourselves up to new challenges and risks.
Writing is always the riskier move, even if no one reads it.
But the pay off... the release... the escape... the success, however momentary... is always worth it.
Because, to be a writer is to be who you truly are.
And, at least for those few hours of fevered creation, to not be afraid of who that is or what it all means.
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