Therese here to introduce our newest regular contributor, Kim Bullock. If you’re a part of WU’s Facebook community, you’ll certainly be no stranger to Kim, who has long been a part of the Mod Squad there. Kim has also become a valued right hand for me here at Writer Unboxed, and as one of WU’s two Assistant Editors (along with Julia Munroe Martin) is a big part of the reason my sanity is mostly intact. When Kim’s longtime blog, What Women Write, was shuttered, it seemed the right time to see if she might like to bring some of her writerly wisdom to WU. Luckily for all of us, she accepted. Welcome, Kim!
Let me start with a confession.
It’s something I’ve told no one. Not my former blogging partners at What Women Write. Not my friends here at Writer Unboxed. Not my parents, my children, and certainly not my spouse.
Those who attended the WU UnConference with me last November would never have known I carried a secret shame, that there was a reason why the laptop I’d dutifully dragged with me from Dallas remained closed.
With the exception of blog posts, I had written nothing for half a year.
I started each day with the best of intentions. I’d open my manuscript to that same damn spot in the middle of page 242. After staring at my blinking cursor until I wanted to throw the laptop across the room, I’d scroll back to the beginning of the chapter and read it over. Every day I wondered why the person who had written that polished prose could no longer compose a sentence she’d let live.
The words flowed in my head while grocery shopping or stuck in traffic. I woke from dreams so vivid it took half the day to feel grounded in this century. I imagined my protagonist’s face superimposed over my own in the mirror. I saw my story as my hero saw his paintings; each brushstroke clear before ever setting brush to canvas.
The image vanished the moment my fingers touched the keyboard.
I might still be stuck on page 242 had I not attended Donald Maass’ 21st Century Fiction Workshop on the last day of the UnCon. One of the many questions he posed to us that day was this: What is your greatest fear?
I fear a lot of things. A tragedy involving my children, losing a parent or my spouse, tornadoes, doctors, having blood drawn, wasps, knives, night driving, large social situations, flying, pain, feeling shunned, failure and, of course, death. I nearly wrote down the latter because, let’s face it, that’s a biggie that will happen to everyone eventually.
Fear of death was not what made me set aside a story that literally pulses through my veins in favor of dust bunny eradication, though. There was another, more immediate, fear wreaking havoc on my psyche. One I happen to share with my protagonist. Go figure.
I fear success as much as I want it.
Seeing that sentence written in my own handwriting still shocks me. Of course I want to break my long trend of being “thisclose” to The Call. I want the publishing contract, the book tour, and the validation that would come with at last being invited to join the author table.
And yet each time I’ve received an agent reply in my inbox my anticipation has been laced with panic. My disappointment is tinged with…relief.
I wonder if fear of success is behind a lot of writerly self-sabotage habits.
I’d covered this proverbial elephant in my living room with a soft blanket and used her as a chaise lounge for years, but the time had come to admit I needed a chair that didn’t smell ripe and cause cricks in my back.
If you, too, have an elephant you’d like to banish, here are some things to consider.
Remove all decorations
Once you strip her bare and see how much she’s blocking your view, you won’t want her to remain.
Write a list of reasons why you have let her stay
What exactly do you fear? Here were a few of mine: Will the life my kids have come to expect be disrupted? Could I handle deadlines and the stress of marketing one book and writing another at the same time? Could I avoid the pitfalls of the publishing world? What would happen if my future editor and I had a vision clash?
Do these reasons justify keeping her?
Most worries on my list were silly. My kids are fourteen and ten, not toddlers, and there are three perfectly capable and willing adults to get them to where they need to go. Deadlines, while stressful, make me prolific. I have a fantastic support system of writer friends, many of whom have run the publishing gauntlet and survived.
How many of your reasons are easily dismissed?
What if there are real concerns?
Do you have small children or other dependents? This may be a valid reason to delay leaping into the publishing world, but there’s nothing wrong with writing a novel or two while you wait. Do you lack connections? Start cultivating some. Follow your favorite authors. Join writing groups. WU’s Facebook group is a great place to start.
This exercise taught me that I was paralyzed by fear of not getting the story right. I had too many outside expectations, many conflicting, of what should be included. Earlier drafts had not worked because I had shared my work too early and taken too much advice. In trying to placate everyone, I had silenced my own voice.
I wish I could say that I came home from Salem and found my elephant gone. She was a bit portly and didn’t fit through the door right away. Each day I opened my manuscript and told myself, “Just write the story. No one has to see this.” The elephant lost a pound or two during each writing session, and one morning in late May I realized she was gone.
I had just typed “The End.”
What fear most sabotages your writing? Have you been able to overcome it? If so, how?
Wish you could buy this author a cup of joe?
Now, thanks to tinyCoffee and PayPal, you can!
About Kim Bullock
Kim (she/her) has an M.A. in English from Iowa State University. She writes mainly historical fiction, though has also contributed non-fiction articles to historical and Arts and Crafts publications in both the United States and Canada. She has just finished The Unfinished Work of M.A., a novel based on the rather colorful life of her great-grandfather, landscape painter Carl Ahrens.
Kim, this is so wonderful and speaks to me so much!! It is so much me. “I had shared my work too early and taken in too much advice. In trying to placate everyone, I had silenced my own voice.” Thank you so much for writing this! Going back to my present work, I am having to ask “But what IS my voice? What is the story that I want to tell? ” I wanted to please others more than reach inside me. We live in a world where agents and editors sometimes want to shape the book to reach the largest readership and in doing so, lose the very essence of the book which is wonderful. Anyway this is JUST what I needed to hear today and will keep the article close. Thank you so much!
Thank you so much, Stephanie! I had a feeling you might relate to this. What has helped this time around is that my first feedback came in right before an almost three week trip to Canada and NYC. (Still in process – I’m writing this from Buffalo.) I have no time to make reactionary revisions, but instead must let the feedback percolate until I get home.
It is way too easy to lose touch with what’s important when there are too many voices competing with one’s own.
Brilliant first post here, Kim! I think you touched on something that a lot of us face or have faced in the past. I remember becoming a sculptor because I could, because it was easy for me. In doing so, I set aside something else I longed to do: Craft stories. Become a full-time writer.
On the edge of that choice lingered the fear of not being good enough. Of having someone I admired say, sorry, that doesn’t quite cut it for me. It has taken years for me to let that go. To put myself out there and risk rejection, which, I’m sorry to say, awaits even after the publishing contract is in hand and our books are on the shelves.
I’m so glad your elephant has fled the living room. Bar the doors and windows and don’t let him return. The truth is that not everyone will love everything we write. (And I say that with a huge sigh.) But if we don’t try, if we don’t put ourselves out there, the folk who may need to read our work won’t ever get to.
Thank you for that, Normandie!
I had a few years in my 20s when I gave up writing entirely in order to focus on something ‘practical.’ I thought that the chances of success were so slim that it wasn’t worth trying because I was bound to fail. It hadn’t helped that I had grown up watching my mother face decades worth of rejection.
I lost myself entirely during that time and can’t ever let myself sink into that sort of depression, for lack of a better word, again. My own children are watching now.
It has been a long process to relinquish “the truth” when it comes to this story, but I do have a ready answer handy now when the inevitable questions from family come about why I didn’t include certain things or enhanced ambitions and tension for the sake of the story. I didn’t let anyone see any part of my rewrite until it was done this time, and I think that made all the difference.
Wow, Kim, did this ever hit home with me. Sharing drafts too soon, taking too many people’s advice, or even more debilitating, advice from the wrong people. And fear of finishing. Of finding both success and failure at the end of the road. What a mind-twist. Overcome it? Nah. I get a daily reprieve when I can wrench myself into the moment. And when I can re-align my loyalties with the story rather than my stampeding inner monologue about being bad or wrong or a disappointment to others. This community of writers has helped me with the ‘terminal uniqueness’ thing that cripples me sometimes (no one else feels this way…wah.) Hearing that other people struggle helps. Hearing about their successes helps, too.
So I guess what I’ve learned to do is paint the word ‘ELEPHANT’ on the elephant and stop trying to disguise it as a love-seat. One day I’ll even stop feeding it peanuts. Then maybe it’ll disappear in the night to look for greener pastures. Thanks so much for talking about this!
“So I guess what I’ve learned to do is paint the word ‘ELEPHANT’ on the elephant and stop trying to disguise it as a love-seat. One day I’ll even stop feeding it peanuts.”
Oh, that’s great, Susan!
I’m glad this post is resonating with people. I had to take about a weekend-full worth of deep breaths before making my confession to the world. This is such a wonderful and supportive community.
Taking advice from the wrong people has been a problem in the past for me as well. It’s not that those people had the wrong intentions, but before my rewrite I could literally open to any random page and find at least one sentence that did not sound like me – or my protagonist – in the slightest. Lesson learned.
I’ve been lucky enough this time around to have some “new eyes” look at the manuscript. That has made all the difference because they aren’t influenced by old drafts.
Am I still scared? You bet. At least it isn’t crippling me now, though.
Congratulations on The End!!! Love that feeling so much. This post hits home for me, too…. my kids are out of the nest now, but when they were home, I definitely wrote in fits and starts. I came very close to publication once and that slowed me down for several years. These days it feels like a really crazy mad dash to get everything out that I’ve held inside for a long time, and I’m writing like a motherf***er, haha. My fears these days are more about what if… what if it never happens? (And btw, so very happy to share the Assistant Editorships with you!!!)
Right back at you, my A.E. partner-in-crime!
I definitely have the “what if it never happens?” fear as well, having seen that exact thing happen to my mother, who is a talented writer herself. (She has turned more to photography these days, where she is having success.) My own kids are watching now!
I love those crazy-mad dash moments. I probably won’t have more until school is back in session!
Glad the post hit home for you!
Great first post, and congrats on your new gig, Kim! I’m so relieved I’m not alone. After UnCon, I was overwhelmed and didn’t write until the new year on a brand new project. The words flowed until I received the news that I might have cervical cancer. That’s when I froze. I tried to write, but nada. The muse had abandoned me. I suppose she wanted to be with someone who might have a longer life span. All is good now and I found my old muse who just happens to be my MC’s guardian angel and her muse. So I’ve been reworking the old WIP, making it stronger and tighter, getting it critiqued and just enjoying the process of creation.
But apart from the health scare there was also another factor that scared me, and like you, it was fear of success with ridicule as the cherry on top. The WIP still needs a lot of work, but now I’m not rushing through it as I did. Now I’m savoring every word, every plot twist, and every new revelation that comes with it.
“Fear of success with ridicule as the cherry on top.” Love that. For me the cherry on top would be disappointed family members, but that is a risk I have to take.
I’m so glad that your health scare has been resolved, and that you are once again on speaking terms with your muse. I look forward to reading your novel someday!
As so many folks here have written, I too put my first book out for readers loooong before it was ready. I thought reaching “The End” was all it took. I was to naive to understand that for me real writing begins on the 8th or 10th draft. Until then, no one should read my scribbles.
That said, I settled down and learned my craft, lessons I remember every day. I worked with some great mentors who were willing to tell my I was full of s**t. I put that first attempt away and vowed I would never look at it again.
I broke my vow. A decade later, I took it out. It still sucks, but if I strip away all the nasty pudge and get back to the core of the story, it might have merit. Fall challenge is to put this thing right to see if I want to finish it. I like the main character so I’ll listen to her voice. She was my elephant.
Thank you so much for your comment. Yes, you are absolutely right. The work never ends! I knew “The End” didn’t really mean just that, but rather than the draft was done. Looks like the last half may actually be done, but the first half needs some tweaking. I had a FANTASTIC first reader who recognized what the problem was and how it might be fixed. (Here’s looking at you, Therese!)
Good for you for dusting off the old manuscript to see if anything is there. Even if that story doesn’t work, there may be nuggets that would work for a new story. Recycling can be a good thing!
Thanks for sharing this. It’s a fearful thing to admit fear! You touched on several of my own problems, especially sharing drafts too soon and trying to please everyone in the revision process.
With my current WIP, I did two (maybe two and a half) drafts before sharing it with anyone. I’ve gotten feedback from two readers who always just want to read what I’ve written (they’re plain readers, not other writers) and I’m being careful about what I change based on their comments. Both sped through the draft incredibly fast and both had questions on what are a couple things that are pretty obviously explained (I thought) in the MS. So unless a bunch of other early readers miss them too, I’m leaving them as is. Half the fun of this type of book is putting together the pieces, and not every reader is going to be as astute as the others. I don’t want to “dumb it down” for one type of reader and have what I consider my ideal reader get frustrated by having things spelled out for them too much (because that is something I particularly dislike as a reader).
But these two have also pointed out some problems that probably do need fixing. I still haven’t passed it on to my most important early readers because I wanted to get through some of those earlier edits first and send them my very best work.
My own fears seem to have focused in on two things: First, fear that my work will never be published because there will always be a gatekeeper hung up on this or that or the other aspect of it (agents have had such varied reasons for rejecting my last effort, which at the same time they praised, that I’m kind of confused as to what I should do with it). Second, that if I do break through and become a published novelist that it will not perform well and no one will want to offer me a second deal. I know there is always self-publishing, but with a full time job and a small child, I know I don’t have the time necessary to make it work at this point in my life.
Despite those fears, I keep writing and keep sending my work out there, persistently waiting for The Call and trying not to get my hopes up too high. Rejection is tough no matter which way you slice it.
Thanks again for this post, Kim.
Thanks for your comment, Erin!
I hear you about waiting for The Call, though in the last few years I’ve tried to take a more proactive approach than simply waiting. As an introvert, it was hard for me to put myself out there at first. Not just my writing, but ME. The best thing I’ve done for both my writing and my sanity is to connect with other writers, to develop relationships, not with the mindset of “what’s in it for me” or “how can this person help me reach my goals” but to honestly connect with likeminded people, to help them when I can without asking for anything in return. (This community is great for that, by the way.) I’ve been fortunate to meet several mentors this way, and more than a few friends who are more like family. If I am ever in a position to help pay-it-forward in return, I certainly will.
These connections are great for getting me past the disappointment when I am “thisclose” to a yes, but get a no instead.
It sounds like you have a “tribe” as well.
I’m glad the post resonated with you. Hang in there and keep writing!
Yes, yes, yes, yes! I often found myself not writing for the exact same reasons! That’s why it’s taken about five years (gulp) to write my book.
Since this is my first book, I’ve been learning to write while writing. And I want to make sure I “get it right”, that it’s as good as it can be. The upside to this is that I’ve had many revelations and ideas that wouldn’t have made it in the book if I had gotten it out there quickly. I feel like I’m enjoying watching a child grow before I send it off to school. Does that make sense?
But now I’m ready to finish it and move on the other projects. It helps that my son is almost grown now and doesn’t need me as much. I also have a clearer vision of what my book will be.
I tell myself, “Just five minutes. Just a few pages. Just one scene.” If I can do that each day, I consider that a success. And, I know this sounds silly, but I keep a small calendar and reward myself with a cute sticker if I work on the story. It feels good to put that sticker on there. 😊 But more importantly, I’m often shocked to see that maybe three days have gone by with no writing when I thought it was maybe one. It’s a good reality check.
I’m also pleased to say that I’m nearing the end and hope to have a completed first draft by the end of the week! I will open a bottle of champagne that’s been sitting in my fridge for a few years.
Congratulations on your first WU post! Looking forward to more!
Congratulations on getting to the end, Valerie. No judgment from me about the length of time it has taken. It takes what it takes and it will be done when it is the right time for it to be done.
I like the sticker idea. Maybe I should try that as a visual way to keep myself accountable!
I’m glad you could relate to the post. I never knew I had so many kindred spirits!
I thought that zoo in my head was my dirty little secret. I sure would like to put The End to that creativity buster. Glad you did.
You crack me up, Thea!
You had me at “I fear a lot of things.” Isn’t it amazing how, when someone reveals not their talents, but their vulnerabilities, you feel you’ve met a kindred spirit?
I fear success, but I can usually knock that elephant right out of the room by laughing at myself as I look into the future and think I’ll be lucky to sell a copy a month. (Though admittedly, I won’t have the pressure of a publisher’s expectations since I plan to quietly self-publish.)
I love Normandie’s response about putting ourselves out there for the people who need to hear what we have to say. That’s what keeps me from worrying about my own biggest fear — the reviews. I hope I’ll have the courage not to read them. :o)
Judging from the comments here, it looks like we have a lot of kindred spirits!
The reviews: GULP. One elephant at a time!
Seems like this has hit home for a lot of us!! I went to a Writer’s Meet-up yesterday and came home all enthused with my latest project–can’t wait to get on with it! We talked about a lot of the same things you have mentioned in your post. One of the big things that resonates with me is all the “kindred spirits” that are out there. Together we will get through his! Thanks for the kick in the elephant!
Those elephants are stubborn, Debi! I’m giving yours another virtual kick right now.
Great pice, Kim! I’m glad the elephant is evicted — I also appreciate how you describe it happening. I’m sure you wanted the big revelation at the UnCon and then Presto! the elephant pops out of the room immediately and you speed on your merry writing way. I know that’s how I usually want things to work. But work is always required; the regular work. But that’s what wore the elephant down and got you to The End. Me, too. But that elephant is clearly in the room for a lot of us in writing communities — “So how much are you writing these days” would probably be the most terrifying (and unifying) question, ever.
I came home from Salem so energized I was practically manic and, yes, I did think all that energy would help me pound through my writers’ block and finish my manuscript. No go. The conference did, however, help me to acknowledge the problem, and that was the first step toward eradicating it.
The ‘end’ is really only the end of this draft, but at least I have some very clear direction now about how to fix the things that still need tweaking. The house is built. It just needs a final coat of paint.
Great post, Kim.
I dealt with many of the same fears when it came to writing and spent ten years trying to completely ignore my need to write. But eventually the need overran the fear because one night at 4am, after an entire month of having the same story wake me up at the same time, I threw back the covers and just said, “Fine! If the words are going to torture me anyway, fine!” I jotted them down and went to sleep. In the morning, I put the story together. That day I decided, if I’m going to be a tortured writer anyway, then it can at least be during waking hours.
I, too, tried to deny my writing need for a number of years. That was a miserable time, and it took the birth of my first child to realize that I had to get back to what I loved. I couldn’t stand the thought of her growing up with a mother who went off to a job she hated every day, all while denying her true self.
Those words will keep haunting you, Celeste. I’m glad that you are listening and writing them down. You’ll be happier in the long run.
If I have not yet responded to your comment, please know I’m not ignoring you. I’ll be spending the day at the Buffalo airport waiting for my flight to NYC this evening. Hopefully I can get on-line from there. If not, please check back late tonight or even tomorrow because I will respond to everyone.
Thanks for all the love this morning. I may be stuck at the airport, but at least I’ll be smiling!
You’re my hero, Kim. And you have been for a long time (even while you were keeping this from me, even though we talk almost every day ;-). But this cements it.
You know, I think it all might have been necessary. I think The Oak Lovers was a really, really good book before all of this. But what you’ve done to it since is utterly amazing. It took courage to pull it apart and put it back together like you have. And this storm you sailed through is taking it to a whole other level. I’m so proud of you. (Hence your pre-confession hero status.)
Okay, in the interest of fairness, here’s my confession: I’ve barely gotten started on my rewrite of the manuscript you finished, like, what? – a month ago. I’ve gathered all of the feedback. I’ve made some decisions, taken lots of notes about what needs to happen to it; I’ve opened the doc and fiddled with it. But I need to just get in there, get my hands dirty, and get on with the actual rewrite. Fussing will get me nowhere, and I know that – so why have I spent weeks just fussing? I know it’s fear. Fear of not being able to make it better. But that’s ridiculous. Every rewrite I’ve ever undertaken has resulted in progress. I need to let go of my mindset that this rewrite needs to be *the one*. It’s all about steady progress.
You, my dear friend, have done and are continuing to do what needs to be done. Thanks for everything, but particularly for your example. Whether you fear it or not, I see success on your horizon. Oh, and congrats on your well-deserved slot as a contributor!
Damn it, Vaughn, you just made me cry while sitting in the food court at the Buffalo airport. I hope my internet connection will last long enough to respond to your wonderful comment. You and Therese have been my rocks through this process, and I may never have finished if it weren’t for your encouragement and reassurance that I would be able to pull it off. That I did have the talent. That I was not deluding myself that this novel, which is so close to my heart, is a story that needs to be told.
Yeah, I know, I was keeping my struggle from you even though we talk every day. I even kept it from my kids and my husband. It was such a source of frustration, and I hoped that if I kept pretending the problem didn’t exist, that it would just go away. I should have known better. I’ve never been THAT stuck before.
So far, every one of my beta readers has said ‘WOW’ when they got to the scene was stuck on all that time, though. In the end, it may have been worth it because I think my desperation bled through the surface of my words and added another layer of tension that may not have been there had it been an easy-breezy thing to write.
You’ll find your way on your re-write as well. You have come so far and improved at an astounding pace. I said it before and say it again now: I am so stinking proud of you, I could burst.
Can’t wait to hang out with you in NYC in a few days! :-)
Beautifully said. Yeah – that fear of success is almost as brutal as the fear of failure. And congratulations on getting to ‘the end’. I think the hardest thing in living this life is learning to be gentle to oneself and give oneself the same grace and support we give others.
I couldn’t agree more. Thanks, LJ!
Lovely post Kim.
Congratulations on reaching “the end!”
Your post resonated with me on so many levels. When I read your list of fears, I laughed. How can two people from such varied backgrounds have the exact same fears? Ha! It was as if I am having these thoughts and you are reading my mind and writing it (Siri version 201????).
Then I read about your fear of success and laughed even louder. Especially the part about leaving your kids to do what it needs to be a successful author. My book has been 7 years in the making. (It’s made now, just one last edit). But I am afraid to send it out To agents for the fear of what it will result in (either success or failure, I am afraid of either result). Having a 5 year old who has never had to spend a night without mommy is one of the biggest sources of my fear of success. And the fear that I will not measure up, that the book is not good enough, that the prose is not “flowery” enough and so on of course egg my fear of failure. Beta reader and editor responses have furthered both these fears as more than half loved it but one couldn’t even finish it (too long, too verbose and so on). So here I am as I find myself in this almost no-win situation and that is my elephant. Your post has inspired me to at least look at it. So thank you so much for that. Thank you so much for putting yourself out there which has inspired so many of us (judging by the comments) to think about our fears and what is holding us back.
Priya,
Worrying about my kids and how they would get on without me if I had “work obligations” was a biggie for me, and probably part of why it has taken me so long to finish this manuscript. They are older now – 14 and 10 – and this week is a big test. I just sent them (and my parents) home to Dallas from Buffalo – we were in Canada on vacation – today. I am in Buffalo waiting for a flight to NYC, where I will spend a week with my author friends.
I think they will be just fine, especially after seeing me give a big speech last week. They’ve never before witnessed me in work mode and seen me surrounded by a crowd of people all waiting to meet or talk to me. It was eye-opening for them, especially since the speech was in relation to the main characters in my novel. They suddenly realized that these people I’ve talked about for years are actually a big deal to someone other than me!
I’m glad my fear list resonated with you. Some of them seem so silly, but there you have it…
This hits home on a number of levels, Kim. I started out in LA as a screenwriter (writing comedy) which was wrong for me on a number of levels. Couldn’t finish my own script to save my life. Partly because not finishing kept everything in the future and froze time for me. Partly because my priorities were elsewhere. But then, moving back to New England, I started a novel. Seven years later, it was finished and out in the world. For some reason, the elephant hadn”t shown up during that period, or maybe I just ignored him. But then, deadlines looming, public life taking over, the elephant showed up in a different form. What if I couldn’t do it again? I just finished my third, and the elephant’s still there, though it has once again changed form. I think I’m learning to walk around him.
Thanks so much for your comment, Bru! Good to know I’d better keep an eye out for the return of the elephant! Who knew there were so many of them around…
This post spoke to me so clearly I am nearly in tears. I’m terrified of succeeding. I don’t want my life to change. I don’t know if I could deal with deadlines and pressure and expectations, of readers, of an agent, of a publisher. I don’t want people to know who I am. I don’t want people to see me through my work, to judge me, or ridicule me. I’m afraid my health will suffer. I’m already ill, and it isn’t something that will go away. Would the stress of success make it worse?
I work daily at improving and making my writing the best I can, studying and striving. I have no problems taking critiques from writing partners although I struggle in person. I’m not afraid of silences and ‘no’s endless. I’ve been told I should be querying. I don’t even look at agents. I’ve drafted a lovely pitch, logline, synopsis. No query letter.
I don’t want to succeed at the thing I’m best at. I write for others and refuse to share.
My husband has flat out stated that he’s not going to let me sit on a stack of novels until the day I die, but I can’t seem to break free of my paralysis.
Thank you for writing this!
I meant to respond to this yesterday, but my internet at the airport cut out part way through! Wow, Addy, I can tell my post truly did hit a nerve. It sounds as though your elephant is so large it barely allows you space to breathe. I’m sending you a virtual hug.
Being able to show your work to beta readers and take critique is more than a lot of people can do, so don’t bet yourself up. Querying IS scary; I won’t lie. Before I hit ‘send’ I always remind myself that the worst they can do is say no, or not respond. In your case, since your fear is so strong, it may be helpful to remind yourself that even if an agent says yes, that is only step one toward any life changes.
Everything in this industry moves slowly. When I queried a novel while my children were small, I reminded myself that even if a publisher snatched it up right away, I’d still have a year or two to prepare for change before launch day.
Have you considered writing under a pen name? That might solve the issue of not wanting people to know who you are. I doubt many authors are recognized on the street, at least.
Hang in there and take baby steps. You can beat this.
Thank you! It was such a relief to see that I’m not the only one afraid of a ‘yes’ from an agent. ‘No’ doesn’t bother me and neither does silence, but the mere thought of a ‘yes’ twists my stomach.
Focusing on the fact that the industry moves so slowly is a great idea. Hopefully there would be time to adjust, take smaller steps, and get used to changes as they came. It has always felt like the changes would be sudden and drastic, but that probably isn’t the case.
It was a huge step for me to get critique partners, and I was very nervous at the time that I wouldn’t be able to take critiques. It turns out critiques invigorate me and encourage me to sit down at once and start hacking away at my novel. It’s a big puzzle, and a critique reveals more pieces to play with. :)
Maybe querying would turn out the same way. I guess I really don’t know unless I try.
Addy Rae Heldt is my pen name, stolen from various, old, family names. I picked it because my real name is incredibly common and rather boring. I wanted something that would be easy to differentiate from other writers. Having a pen name is one of the reasons I’m able to comment on blogs like yours at all. :)
My husband suggests setting a ‘query by’ date, a solid point in time when I would send out that first query letter and hide under the bed. It would give me time to work up to the idea but keep me from endlessly backing out. Perhaps it isn’t a half bad idea.
I mean, I’m on novel number eight. It’s getting ridiculous. :P
Thank you, so much.
I’ve never had Beta readers (though I would like to try finding some for this book), but I can imagine that asking the wrong people or having them read the manuscript at the wrong time would only increase the fears. And the elephant and I are very old friends! My response to a flareup tends to be that I stop writing and start compulsively outlining and planning. Sometimes this is a way to avoid confronting the writing itself. Other times this planning lifts my confidence because I figure out that I have an error in the concept that was making the act of writing feel like trudging through the sludge.
The imagined (and real) voices from outside as well as the relentless inner critic can be debilitating. I agree with those who have said that we have to find our own way somehow. I think it’s harder for writers to tune out these voices nowadays.
This was a wonderful post to start my day! I really like this community and the daily articles in my inbox.
The wrong beta reader can completely destroy your book if you are too quick to take advice that does not fit with your vision. If your writing is infused with deep emotion and poetic turns of phrase, a reader who doesn’t care for those things may rob you of your voice if you let him/her. Style is so subjective.
My beta readers have always had good intentions; I’ve been blessed that way. My problem has been in showing the work too early, when I was still fumbling to find a consistent voice. Before my rewrite, I could literally turn to any page and something would jump out at me as not being entirely mine. I did not show my latest draft to anyone before it was done and thankfully I found a new reader who I knew would leave my voice alone and concentrate on structure, pacing, and the story as a whole.
Have you networked with other writers on social media? This has been a real life-line for me. A wonderful place to start is the Writer Unboxed group on Facebook. If you admire particular authors, follow them on Twitter or interact with them on Facebook. I met some of my dearest friends (no joke) that way.
How amazing to hear I’m not alone in my paralyzing fear of success. It’s always been family first, writing second for me, especially as a caregiver to my M-in-law and my Dad until they both passed away. There always seems to be someone who needs some extra care and I won’t sacrifice their well-being for a book that might never get published.
Once I have the time and opportunity I write again, and revise and query and get oh so close. I’m at the point where the subjective nature of the business has me running around in circles not knowing if I should hire an editor (a good editor) to work with me before querying my latest wip. Sadly their opinion is as subjective as anyone I’d query, plus expensive, so what’s the point?
I won’t stop writing and have you, and other ‘encouragers’ in the writing world willing to share their stories on how to make it past the close calls. I do believe it’s possible I’ll never get published though.
Thanks for letting us see behind the scenes of your struggle. Keep writing, and posting as your advice is valued. And, from one of the many sticky notes pasted all around the edges of my laptop screen: if you’re not at least a little bit afraid, you’re not doing it right.
Hi Hanna,
Oh, do I ever understand putting others before your writing. My kids are 10 and 14, and I still probably do that too much. Lately I have been making more time for myself, doing more things on my own, etc., so they can see that life really will go on if Mama isn’t around for a week.
I also understand the feeling of being “thisclose” to The Call, yet always hearing a “but”. I’ve been there for quite a while, but I keep plugging away. A professor of mine once said, “If you throw enough mud at a post, some of it is bound to stick.” I take that to heart.
Kim-
Great to see your byline here. It’s good to hear that a single question at my workshop unlocked so much for you. The rights questions are powerful, I believe.
The part of your post that most resonates with me is this: “There was another, more immediate, fear wreaking havoc on my psyche. One I happen to share with my protagonist.”
Everything you feel can be given straight to your protagonist. Fear can be paralyzing but it can also be liberating to identify and face it, as you found. It’s part of a story, after all.
Hi Don,
First off, thanks for the coffee! I’ll be sure to have that here in your city. Yep, I’m in NYC right now, and for the first time. I’m sure I’ll be seeing you in a couple of days.
That workshop in Salem was tremendously helpful, and not just because of my epiphany. I’m not one of those “this manuscript is perfect as is” sort of writers. There is always room for growth and improvement, and I find this fine-tuning part of editing fun.
My elephant even improved the manuscript in her own way. That scene I was stuck on? Every beta reader so far has raved about it. I think my frustration bled through the prose and added another layer of tension that would not have been there otherwise.
Thank you for all you do!
Kim, At this point, I think I’m just afraid of failure–not success–afraid that all my work, all my reading and dreaming, all my attempts to GET THERE will fail. That no one will read my work and respond to it–my God love it. Writing for me is like a good drug–I get to the keyboard and I don’t want to leave. But after years of this, I need something to show for it–something that I can hold in my hand, that I can offer to others, that has my name on it! My published book.
Beth,
Oh, I definitely fear failure as well, especially since I have two children who look up to and believe in me. I would love to be able to hand them a printed book with my name on it and tell them that I could join the author table now.
I mentioned this in another comment, but it holds true here as well. A former professor of mine said something that has stuck with me since college: “If you throw enough mud at a post, some of it is bound to stick.”
Keep writing and keep putting yourself out there. Don’t give up!
Hi, Kim:
I’m beginning to think of Don as a kind of prose paramedic, whose care can revive books, even if they’re coding. (I invoked his name continuously this weekend at the Book Passage Mystery Conference, as well as the name of another fellow WU contributor, James Scott Bell.)
In particular, I’m reminded of Don’s comments at Craftfest earlier this month linking fear and hope. I think this is why success creates such a dual-headed beast for so many writers. Our hopes expose us to our terrors.
A Buddhist dedication to “this moment, perfect teacher” can lead to something like Pema Chodron’s mind-blowing statement, “To conquer fear, we must also abandon hope.” And some of your solutions to your fear were similarly slanted: “Just write, no one has to see it.” We need to let go of ou hope, sometimes, give ourselves permission to fail, so we have a chance to succeed. The two are inseparable. Which is why so many of us we live on that knife’s edge of promise and dread throughout our lives.
But that’s okay. As your lovely post reveals. Thanks for it.
Hi David,
Prose paramedic? I literally just spewed coffee all over my computer screen! That’s an apt name for Don. Someone really needs to create a meme for that. He could sell it on T-shirts at his workshops.
I’m overwhelmed with the response that this post has generated. Who knew there were so many elephants in living rooms, that so many of us are terrified of the thing we most strive for. I don’t feel so alone in that now.
Thank you so much for your comment! It was great to wake up to the image of Don in a lab coat using a defibrillator on a manuscript.
Thanks for the great and honest post, Kim. I don’t think I fear success; I fear not being successful. (Too many rejections will do that to a person!) And your comment about listening to too much advice from others really resonates with me right now. Sometimes I get so close to the story that I lose my objectivity. Then when someone else reads and critiques my writing, I am sometimes too quick to “fix” things. Now I’m having trouble sifting through the fixes and shaping my plot flow.
Appreciate your post!
Hi K.L.
I highly recommend timing it so you are likely to receive feedback right before a vacation. I am generally very reactionary with the revisions, but on this go-round I got a lot of it right before leaving home for three weeks. My mind is humming with ideas that I don’t have time to tinker with. By the time I get home, I will have had time to process everything and decide what is in the best interest of my manuscript.
It is way too easy to lose your voice at this stage of the game. Guard it well.
Thanks so much Kim for taking the time to respond to everyone’s comments!
Greetings Kim. Lovely to see you here. Your post is a keeper with marvelous quotable gems, i.e.
“In trying to placate everyone, I had silenced my own voice.”
Trust—the unshakable belief in ourselves and our story—may be the single hardest lesson to learn as a writer. I know it was mine. In part because, early on, “What did I know?” All I wanted to do was write and so I did. So, when others, with longer track records, provided input I figured I better listen to them first and “my instincts” second. This is such a grey area. Some advice we desperately need to heed, even early on, other advice we need to set aside in order to be true to the story we need to write, and to respect the writer we are.
When we get locked in the “untrusting” place doubt and fear keep the pages blank or what we do write tangles into an unsightly horror.
Fortunately, we all have the power to find our way home. Your own journey is proof, and a wonderful inspiration to all of us in the elephant trenches.
Keep Up and you will be Kept UP. Write On!
Hi Jocosa,
Thank you so much for your comment and the coffee!
Trust in voice and story is such a fragile thing, and I’ve had to learn to guard it closely. I’m much more selective in early readers now and also much more careful to really think through which advice serves the story. I was reactionary for years and when I read off a scene at a retreat a while ago, one of my critique partners actually asked “Where are YOU in that? The scene has been edited to death.”
That was eye-opening to say the least.
Kim, I realize I’m late in commenting, but wanted to say “Hello, and thank you for this post.”
Since I couldn’t do better than the comments already made, I’d like to share a saying I have taped to my writing laptop, which keeps me moving forward:
FEAR IS JUST EXCITEMENT IN NEED OF AN ATTITUDE ADJUSTMENT
That, my friend, it is. :)
Dee Willson
Author of A Keeper’s Truth and GOT
FEAR IS JUST EXCITEMENT IN NEED OF AN ATTITUDE ADJUSTMENT
I need that tattooed on my forehead! :-)
Thanks for an inspiring post, Kim. It’s great to see you here. Congratulations! Everything you said resonated, particularly the idea of sharing too early and placing too much weight on the feedback of others. I shall follow your advice, ‘Just write the story. No one has to see this.’ This, I hope, will kick my own elephants out the door.
Kim,
Wonderful article, and one that resonates so strongly, it’s deafening — except the humongous animal in the middle of my office (sitting squarely on my desk) is the offspring of a rhinoceros and an elephant. I get stymied, scratch my head, and ask, “Mike, whatTF is keeping you from writing?” The answer trumpets from across the room: “Elephino!”
But revelations do gradually occur. I understand the note you wrote to yourself all-too-well, as I fear success as badly as I want it, too. I want to tell the story in my head perfectly. I want to get it right. I want to write the perfect sentence on the first try, the perfect story on the first draft. It’s crippling.
Anne LaMott writes about “perfection being the oppressor.” Boy, is she write. Oops…right. See? I could have fixed that just now, but I didn’t. I’m helping my elephino lose weight by just writing, warts and all. Getting it down. Fixing it later.
With the release of Go Set a Watchman, I see how a story can be written and then totally be rewritten until it has reached the level of perfection I seek. Gives me the audacity to just write the damn thing. And with each written word, the elephino loses another pound.
Great to see your byline. Can’t wait to see you with the NY skyline.
Oh, Mike, we are kindred spirits:
“I want to tell the story in my head perfectly. I want to get it right. I want to write the perfect sentence on the first try, the perfect story on the first draft. It’s crippling.”
Yes, yes and yes. Add to this that I want all my family members and historian contacts to love it, too, and the pressure just strangles me.
I’m already in New York, staying with my friend, author Stephanie Cowell. This is quite a place. Can’t wait to see you! I owe you a hug and your drink of choice for that “cluster of stars” comment you wrote on Facebook right before I packed up all my art to send off for the exhibition.
And I’ll buy you a cuppawhatever when I see you. It’ll be a real treat to see a few of you again and meet a few others! :D