Fear is a liar.
Fear will break your courage, steal your dreams, and tell you that neither you nor your art will ever amount to anything.
Of all the many hurdles that stand between writers (or any other person) and their dreams, fear is often the hardest to fight, and the easiest to surrender to.
For many years, I lived in fear of failure. I refused to write, despite the stories that burned inside me, because I feared that if I tried and failed I would lose the only identity—that of writer—that had defined me as long as I could remember. I went to law school instead of pursuing a career in writing, because I wanted stability I didn’t believe I could get from writing. I continued to practice law even after my first novel, Claws of the Cat, was published in 2013.
I told myself there would always be time to travel more extensively in Japan, to climb the Nihon Hyakumeizan (hundred famous mountains of Japan) and to break through the wall of fear that kept me chained to the security of a lawyer’s life.
Last September, as I faced the upcoming tenth anniversary of my father’s death, I decided to face my fears, take a sabbatical, and spend a year in Japan climbing mountains and writing at least two books (one mystery and one nonfiction book about my attempt to become the oldest American woman to climb the hyakumeizan in a single year). It was time to take a chance and pursue my dreams, despite my many fears.
And then, in November—just as my husband and I prepared to sell our house and move to Japan—I was diagnosed with a highly aggressive form of breast cancer. Fortunately, we caught it at Stage 1 (a side note: ladies, please get regular mammograms—the one I had last November literally saved my life), but instead of heading off to Japan, I found myself facing major surgery (double mastectomy) and four months of intensive, dose-dense chemotherapy.
In my former life, that diagnosis and the fight against cancer would have killed my dreams. I would have let my fears—of the cancer returning, or not having the strength to complete the mountain climbs—derail my plans. I would have retreated into a place of self-pity, excuses, and sorrow, and accepted that climbing mountains (much less writing books about it) was a job for people younger, stronger, and more capable than me.
But that cancer diagnosis taught me a very important lesson: none of us has a guaranteed tomorrow, no matter how safe and secure our lives may seem. Fear will always predict your failure—but if you never try, you can’t succeed.
The photo at the top of this post is me at the summit of Mount Daibosatsu—which I climbed on May 27, 2018, six weeks after finishing chemotherapy and two weeks to the day after I received the “all clear” CT scan that showed no cancer remaining in my body. Between then and now, I’ve climbed eleven more of the Hundred Famous Mountains—and started writing a book about my odyssey from cancer to Japan’s most famous peaks. Like writing, mountain climbing requires me to strengthen and hone my skills, to focus on the task at hand, and to overcome my weaknesses and fears—one word at a time, one step at a time—to achieve the goal.
For years, I did not write because I feared I could not do it well. I feared I would fail, and that failure would define me. For years, I did not even try to climb a mountain—for the very same reasons.
Today, I have climbed a dozen mountains (with 88 more scheduled between now and May 19, 2019). I’ve written half a dozen published books (technically, #6 does not release until July 3, but I’m giving myself credit for it anyway). I didn’t do these things because I’m any better, or smarter, or stronger than anyone else, but because I fought and struggled for my dreams. I trained myself to do the job and persevered until I got it done. Every step of the way, I had to fight my fears.
If I can do it, you can do it too.
Listen to the voice that burns inside you. Struggle to achieve your dream. It won’t be easy—nothing worth having ever is—but start from your goal and work backwards, breaking the process into manageable steps until you reach the place where you are today . . . and then move forward, fulfilling those steps, until your dream becomes reality.
If you’re like most people, fear will be your traveling companion all the way along that road. It will whisper words like “failure,” and “hopeless” and tell you that your dream is doomed to fail.
Do not listen. Keep writing. Or singing. Or dancing. Or doing whatever it is you need to do to reach that dream that burns inside you.
And through it all, remember: fear is a liar.
Do not let it keep you from your dreams.
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About Susan Spann
Susan Spann writes the Hiro Hattori Novels (Shinobi Mysteries) featuring ninja detective Hiro Hattori and his Portuguese Jesuit sidekick, Father Mateo, who solve mysteries set in medieval Japan. Her first novel, Claws of the Cat: A Shinobi Mystery (Minotaur, 2013) was a Library Journal mystery debut of the month and a finalist for the Silver Falchion Award for Best First Novel. Her fourth Hiro Hattori novel, The Ninja’s Daughter, releases August 2, 2016 from Seventh Street Books. Susan is the 2015 Rocky Mountain Fiction Writers’ Writer of the Year, and also a transactional attorney whose practice focuses on business and publishing law. She founded and curates the Twitter hashtag #PubLaw (for Writers), where she answers questions and provides information about publishing business and legal issues. When not writing or representing clients, Susan enjoys traditional archery, reading fiction and nonfiction, and raising seahorses and rare corals in her marine aquarium. She lives outside Sacramento, California, but you can find her online at http://www.SusanSpann.com, on Twitter (@SusanSpann), or on Facebook/SusanSpannBooks.
PCGE says
June 25, 2018 at 7:30 amWonderful post, and true for everyone — even the fictional characters we create.
Good luck with the 100 Mountains. I don’t think Koya-san is on the list, but if you get the chance, I recommend visiting it. It’s a deeply spiritual place, and the shōjin ryōri lunch I had at a temple there was one of the most delicious meals I’ve ever had.
Susan Spann says
June 25, 2018 at 10:52 amIt’s funny that you mention Kōyasan – my next mystery novel (which releases on July 3, 2018 from Seventh Street Books) is actually titled TRIAL ON MOUNT KŌYA – and it’s set on Kōyasan.
Kōya is one of my favorite places in all of Japan – I’ve spent quite a bit of time there and stayed in several of the temples (some while researching this newest novel and some just because I love it there so much). Like you, I adore shōjin ryōri too! And thank you for the good wishes for the mountains!
Kōya isn’t on the nihon hyakumeizan list – but I’m actually climbing it next week, in place of Mt. Adatara, which is unfortunately still too irradiated from the Fukushima power plant accident for climbing. They’re within a few meters of the same height, and Kōya definitely qualifies as an excellent substitute.
Therese Walsh says
June 25, 2018 at 9:33 amFantastic message, and such a wonderful way to start a writing day. I couldn’t be happier for you, Susan. You are inspirational. Write on, sister.
Susan Spann says
June 25, 2018 at 10:54 amThank you so much Therese!! If this journey has taught me anything, it’s that everyone needs to live their dreams today – or to start working toward them, without delay.
Libby M says
June 25, 2018 at 10:00 amFantastic post! Thank you so very much for writing it and revealing the strength and perseverance you had. I look forward to see how you the next 88 mountains go!
Susan Spann says
June 25, 2018 at 10:59 amThank you so much! (I’m looking forward to seeing how they go, myself!)
Cat Moleski says
June 25, 2018 at 10:13 amWonderful! Thank you!
Susan Spann says
June 25, 2018 at 11:01 amThank you so much!
Robin Martinez Rice says
June 25, 2018 at 10:15 amYes! I love following your adventures. You are an inspiration.
Susan Spann says
June 25, 2018 at 10:56 amThank you so much Robin!!
David Wilson says
June 25, 2018 at 10:20 amI have always like the litany against fear from the Dune series by Frank Herbert
“I must not fear.
Fear is the mind-killer.
Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.
I will face my fear.
I will permit it to pass over me and through me.
And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path.
Where the fear has gone there will be nothing.
Only I will remain.”
Susan Spann says
June 25, 2018 at 10:55 amI was reciting that very litany to myself last week, during a very scary rainy ascent of Mt. Ibuki. :) I’ve loved those words since the first time I read DUNE (in college, many years ago).
David Wilson says
June 25, 2018 at 11:26 amI generally like Frank Herbert’s work.
Deborah Makarios says
June 25, 2018 at 8:17 pmThat came to mind for me, too! And also this quote from James Stephens:
“I am the lion in his lair!
I am the fear that frightens me!
I am the desert of despair
And the night of agony.
Night or day, whate’er befall,
I must walk this desert land,
Until I dare my fear and call
The lion out to lick my hand.”
(That’s how it goes in my memory, anyway: the real thing may be slightly different.)
Kim says
June 25, 2018 at 10:36 amA wonderful reminder – thank you. Best wishes to you on all your journeys.
Anne O'Brien Carelli says
June 25, 2018 at 10:57 amSharing this with a lot of writers who may need to pull it out and read it now and then. Thank you!
Carol Dougherty says
June 25, 2018 at 11:16 amThanks, Susan, for this post. As I sit here, I am wearing a t-shirt from TeeRico (Lin Manuel Miranda’s shop of goodies for good causes), and on it is a line from his acceptance speech/sonnet for HAMILTON: Nothing is promised, not one day.
It’s so easy to get caught up in fear. My teacher, Teah, gave a dharma talk about fear years ago and pointed out that fear is always of the mind, and always in the future. Her example was of a big dog you see nearby – what you are afraid of is that the dog might bite you in the future. Right now it isn’t biting you.
When I first got involved with Zen, I remember reading a book by John Stevens, THE MARATHON MONKS OF MT. HIEI. Theirs was an extreme practice, and it required total commitment, and running through their fears.
Enjoy your time in Japan, and safe climbing.
Lorraine Norwood says
June 25, 2018 at 11:26 amWhat an incredible inspiration you are! Thank you so much for writing about your fears and how you’ve overcome them. You are truly a warrior woman. Wishing you good health and good climbing. — Lorraine
Mark Noce says
June 25, 2018 at 11:49 amHeartwarming and inspiring post. Thanks for sharing:)
Vijaya says
June 25, 2018 at 11:50 amSusan, what a great post! You speak truth. Fear is a liar.
All the things I regret come down to this. I believed the fear more than I did the dreams. Ex.
1. Didn’t go to medical school for fear of debt. I had no buffer after my mother died. Did the more stable thing–became a research scientist.
2. Didn’t have more children for fear of lack–lack of time, money, etc. But you know what? The two we have are our greatest treasure.
But I became a writer. And it brought me back my childhood faith and Wow! I no longer have those fears. Perfect love casts out fear. Fear comes from the father of lies.
Thank you for this wonderful post and I wish you good health and happiness.
Karen Stensgaard says
June 25, 2018 at 12:17 pmWow, Susan! If you need one adjective to describe yourself, it should be FEARLESS! Such a great blog, it sounds like fiction, but I believe every word.
I don’t have issues with fear as much as doubt – a close-knit cousin to fear who is slightly less obnoxious. This doubt, not just in writing but everything, has helped me though. When I got passed over for jobs and didn’t like the direction my stalled career was headed, I pushed myself to learn more and got a slew of business licenses. My way to fight back against continual frustration. That wasn’t always the best solution since it intimidated quite a few interviewers.
All education is a plus, particularly for storytelling. I’m not going after an MFA, but I’m learning as much as I can about writing. And writers like to write, so it’s a never-ending quest. That irritating doubt – whether my stories will ever be read or should be read – still motivates me. While I study the craft, doubt loses center stage and drops out of sight.
Keep on climbing but don’t forget to stop occasionally to enjoy the vista on the way up!
Linda Townsdin says
June 25, 2018 at 12:32 pmSusan, you’ve been inspiring as a writer, a speaker at workshops and conferences I’ve attended, and throughout this past year as a courageous role model for how to handle a health crisis. Thank you for this wonderful post and happy climbing!
Keith Cronin says
June 25, 2018 at 12:49 pmA great and heartfelt reminder, Susan – thank you. Your post is also well aligned to a sentiment I first heard in my 20’s, which still resonates with me:
“It’s better to regret what you have done than what you haven’t.”
Sounds like you’re driving full-steam-ahead into a life without regrets – good luck to you!
Judith Robl says
June 25, 2018 at 1:54 pmMy favorite definition of fear is:
False
Evidence
Appearing
Real
Thank you for this inspiring post. I will never climb the Japanese mountains, but sometimes the writing feels like mountain-climbing.
Pam Johnson says
June 25, 2018 at 2:15 pmI’m amazed that hundreds of writers didn’t comment (perhaps their fears held their words back!)
This piece couldn’t have come at a better time for me…
I’m nearly finished with a Middle Grade book that I’d pitched to an agent in February (she wanted to see it in completion!), but as I get close to the end, that ugly disease is invading my brain – telling me my writing isn’t good enough!
Your article inspired me to take that mighty pen and slay that monster!
Thank you.
Christine Venzon says
June 25, 2018 at 2:56 pmGod bless you, Susan! Your story reminds me of one of my do-to affirmations: “Fear knocked on the door; faith answered. No one was there.”
And this quote from Steve Jobs: “Remembering that you are going to die is the best way I know to avoid the trap of thinking you have something to lose.”
Alisha Rohde says
June 25, 2018 at 3:13 pmWhat a great way to start the week–thank you, Susan! Your story and your photo are together such a wonderful portrait of courage and persistence. I’m looking forward to the nonfiction piece that emerges from your journey.
As a lifelong/expert-level worrier (and admitted perfectionist), I nodded quite a bit as I read your opening paragraphs. This year I’m facing (embracing…) a momentous birthday year and it’s got me motivated to get the current WIP wrangled into a more coherent shape so I can start the next challenge. Thanks for the Monday shot in the arm! :-)
SK Figler says
June 25, 2018 at 3:42 pmExcellent message beautifully rendered. Keep on keepin’ on (as we used to say).
I have no fear of writing; it’s what defines me and my days and nights. My fear is publishing, putting it out there subject to evaluation. But I’m overcoming it. Working on getting three of my novel mss out this year and three next year, if The Great Spirit grants me that time.
And, of course, I keep on writing.
Blessings on you.
Barbara Samuel says
June 25, 2018 at 3:54 pmWhat a powerful and uplifting post! I’m a hiker, too, native of Colorado and my travel friends tease me that I have to hike everything.
I’m intrigued the quest you’ve undertaken. Is is a set of mountains to climb? I’m going to Japan in two years, and though I wouldn’t have time to climb so many, I might be able to work in one or two!
Christine Venzon says
June 25, 2018 at 4:22 pmAfter reading today’s post I went over to Literary Hub, another favorite site. I came across this story: The writer Denis Johnson would promise a gold coin to anyone who could spend the night in the deep dark woods near his home. He gave them a flashlight, a sleeping bag, and a walkie-talkie in case they wanted to be rescued. No one claimed the prize, because Denis would stomp and thrash through the woods and scare them witless.
Then his thirteen-year-old took him up on the offer. She tossed the flashlight and walkie-talkie and hunkered down in her sleeping bag until morning. She decided from the start that she would not give in to her fear and denied herself the means of turning back. What a wonderful metaphor for facing the monsters in life.
David A. says
June 25, 2018 at 4:59 pmWithout fear we’d do some really stupid and dangerous things, and harm others in the process.
Christine Venzon says
June 25, 2018 at 6:14 pmA point well taken, David. The challenge is knowing which fears are healthy and which are self-defeating.
Leanne Dyck says
June 25, 2018 at 6:46 pmThank you for sharing this–very inspirational. I too have had to learn not to let fear stop me from claiming my dreams.
Susan Spann says
June 26, 2018 at 9:28 pmThank you so much – and I’m glad you’re fighting the fight, just like me. I hope your fear does not return, or hold you back, any longer.
Jane Vasarhelyi says
June 26, 2018 at 3:55 pmHi Susan:
I’m down here in Panama preparing a workshop for the beginning writers in our expat community. Have been looking through some of my favorite sites for input and came across this beautiful analysis of what I have always believed is the writer’s single biggest stumbling block to success. I would love to print the post and include it in our handouts. Would that be all right? With complete attribution of course.
This is a terribly important post no matter the stage of one’s writing career. I know I will re-read it often. Thank you so much for sharing.
Jane
Susan Spann says
June 26, 2018 at 9:27 pmHello from Japan to Panama!
Of course you can print and use the post – I’m honored that you want to! I do appreciate the attribution (and mentioning that you saw it at Writer Unboxed is nice for the WU site too).
I hope the workshop goes well, and thank you for helping others in our community. We are all so much stronger when we work together.
Jane Vasarhelyi says
June 27, 2018 at 5:16 pmThank you, Susan. Actually, am printing a copy for tomorrow’s regular authors meeting. One of out members was UPI bureau chief in Tokyo and spent 30 years there as a journalist. You may have crossed paths. Glenn Davis is his name. At a minimum, I think he will be fascinated by your journey. As we all are.
Jane