Few things in life fill me with as much fear as writing (and I’ve gone skydiving, held an alligator, and entrusted my heart to another human being, so that’s saying a lot!). Ironically, or maybe not, there are even fewer things that bring me as much joy.
There are magical days when I sit down to write and the words just flow. (Ah, those days.) More common are the days when writing feels like a battle. When I lock horns with my story and must wrestle every word onto the page. Whether the writing flows or fights, I’ve come to realize, is determined by the presence or absence of fear.
The days that fear shows up for work, it sits beside me and points at every sentence, scoffing, “What is [insert name] going to think when s/he reads THAT?!” Before I know it, I’m deleting sentences and watering down my words until everything feels nice and safe (read: boring).
Having been at this writing thing for over 15 years now, I can look back and see the damage caused by these epic battles with fear—story ideas gagged and handcuffed to chairs, scorched earth where first drafts used to be. Today I’ve decided to push past my own fear and explore this destructive force, not because I’ve mastered it but because I believe that for any of us to “unbox” our true potential and access our best, most authentic writing, we must find a way to overcome it.
To help me take on this formidable opponent, I reached out to the Writer Unboxed Facebook community and asked our fellow writers to share their fears and doubts as well as their strategies for fighting back. With their insights and courage, I’ve assembled some battle-worthy advice to help us win the war against fear and get back to doing what we love.
- Put a face to your fear.
A natural part of being a writer is fearing the reactions of other people—be they anonymous readers, critics, friends, family members, or, in the case of fellow WUer Starry Neilclan, “the professionals” (who might be anyone from agents to editors to more-experienced writers).
Fear is scariest when it looms large and faceless in our dark fantasies of rejection and public humiliation. But just as the frightening Wizard of Oz turned out to be a little old man with a fancy microphone, your fear is likely not what it seems.
When I started writing The Indie Way column here at Writer Unboxed, I was paralyzed with fear that “the professionals” would leave critical messages in the comments section. When I peeked behind the curtain, I realized “the professionals” were my fellow contributors. My fear of their reaction was making it hard for me to show up for my column in an authentic way because it kept browbeating me, insisting I needed to be more. Better. Wiser. More accomplished. More widely read. “Hit a best sellers list or something!” it would implore.
Once I put a face to my fear, I could begin taking away its power. It turns out, the question “Why?” is like kryptonite to fear. I asked myself why I was afraid that my fellow contributors would publicly humiliate me. They aren’t bullies who go around trashing other writers (I’ve met many of them in person, and they’re lovely people who actively help other writers). The answer was rooted in admiration and insecurity—I realized that I admire their work and contributions here at Writer Unboxed, and, frankly, I felt out my league in their company. I was grappling with a self-doubt that fellow WUer Laura Jane Swanson also contends with—Am I qualified for this?
Once I understood the source of my fear, I gained the upper hand and reasoned it into submission. I acknowledged that no one here expects me to offer the same kind of advice as any of our other fine contributors because (spoiler alert!) I am not them. I’ve not walked in their shoes; I’ve not typed at their keyboards. I can’t be them any more than they could be me.
Once I realized that the only expectation is for me to show up as me, I freed myself from the grip of fear and got back to work.
Try it: Peek behind the curtain of your fear and put a face to the person or people you find there. Challenge your fear by asking “why?” until you uncover its source.
- Give yourself the final say.
When I asked the Writer Unboxed Facebook community to share their self-limiting beliefs and behaviors, the comments section filled with lists of fears, doubts, and negative affirmations. One comment that caught my eye was from Deb Peterson, who told us she used to get hung up on thoughts like, “This is dumb.” But now she counters with, “So? It’s no dumber than other things that have been published.”
Deb’s comment reminds us that fear doesn’t get the final say in matters of our creativity and self-worth—unless we allow it to have the final say. So, don’t allow it. Give yourself the final say. If fear fires an insult at you, fire back. If it ridicules your talent, jump to your own defense. If it makes a case against you, prove it wrong.
For example, fellow WUers Gail Trowbridge and Leslie Aline Stack admitted to feeling too old to pursue their writing dreams. As I see it, these writers have two options: allow fear to have the final say and never pick up a pen, or swat fear on the nose and remind it to respect its elders. They could school fear about the unique perspective and voice that age and experience can bring to storytelling. They could cite a long list of literary late bloomers who enjoyed successful writing careers. Rather than looking at age (or any other trait) as a liability, we must consider how our perceived shortcomings can add value to our writing. (I’m happy to report that Gail and Leslie chose the latter option and are still writing.)
Try it: Make a list of all your fears, doubts, and negative beliefs. Then read the list as if it were created by your best friend. Make a second list of all the reasons why the items on the first list aren’t true. Throw away the first list and keep the second nearby to ensure you have the final say next time fear returns.
- Write anyway.
Though I’m not sure fear can be eliminated, it’s possible to manage it so we can continue writing and creating. When I asked our Facebook community how they write through their fear, I was heartened to hear a variety of strategies.
Some writers keep fear in check with positive reinforcement. Fellow WUer Leslie Schulze Book regularly reviews positive comments she’s received from readers as well as signs she sees in her daily life that confirm her desire to write. This practice helps her stay focused on her goals and encouraged about the future. (This sounds far more productive than obsessively rereading negative comments from anonymous trolls!) Marta Pelrine-Bacon surrounds herself with supportive writer friends who encourage her efforts. Rebeca Schiller relies on self-motivating pep talks, reminding herself that the only way to become a successful writer is to sit down and write. And when that doesn’t work, she reaches for her favorite revenge fantasy. (Who among us hasn’t, at one point or another, been fueled by the glorious daydream of rubbing our international best seller in our biggest detractor’s face?)
For other writers, it’s as simple as acknowledging the presence of fear and ignoring it. When fear creeps up on Brian B. King and makes it difficult for him to relate to other writers, he “gives it a hug and keeps plodding forward.” For Laura Seeber it’s not a hug but a careful sidestep. When fear bullies her with comments like “no one will want to read this crap” or “I’m not good enough to write this,” she simply acknowledges it, accepts that she may never be good enough, and continues writing anyway. Once she does that, she feels fear loosen its grip and the writing gets easier.
Try it: When fear shows up, acknowledge it. Remind yourself that it is a natural part of the creative process and you are not alone in your feelings and doubts. Then turn your attention back to your work and forget about it.
Time and experience have taught this battle-weary writer that it’s not the writing I’m struggling against, it’s fear. It’s my desire to be authentic with you but in no way allow you to hurt me. The problem, of course, is that doing the work that matters most to our souls calls for us to lay our hearts on the page for the world to see and judge. It requires us to be vulnerable. That’s why it’s so easy to get lost down a social media rabbit hole or binge the latest limited series or fill our days with anything other than writing. Because it’s safer there. Writing is scary. But, like jumping out of a plane, holding an alligator, and falling in love, I want to do it anyway.
What fears do you battle when writing? How do you keep the beasts at bay?
About Erika Liodice
Erika Liodice is an indie author and founder of Dreamspire Press, where she is dedicated to following her writing dream and inspiring other writers to follow theirs. She is the author of Empty Arms: A Novel and the children’s chapter book series High Flyers. She is also a contributor to Author In Progress, the Writer Unboxed team’s first anthology. To learn more about Erika and her work, visit erikaliodice.com.
Hey Erika, great stuff! The power of community never fails to inspire.
How about utilizing an irrational mortality fear to combat one’s irrational writing fears? It’s a technique that’s “come of age” for an old-timer like me. I look at how many books I want to get done (I have a couple of specific stories I still want to “capture”), then factor how long each is taking, and then consider how many (and here’s the tricky and unknowable part) *lucid* years I might left to write them.
Hoo boy, that’ll put a fire under an old crank’s achin’ butt bones. It even works on weekends. Better hop to. Er, well, maybe just settle in (don’t want to wrench any achin’ bones, lol).
Are you coming to Salem? Hope so. Long time, no see, my admirable fellow contributor.
That’s some scary math to do at any age, Vaughn. Especially when you’re a slow writer (like me). The benefit of the “time is running out” fear is that it can help us prioritize how we spend our remaining “lucid years.” It’s freeing not to feel accountable to every “good” idea that wanders in off the street.
I’m sorry to say I won’t be in Salem this time, but I wish you (and everyone who’s attending) a productive, fear-free UnCon!
Your article spoke directly to me, except the part about skydiving and alligator holding (does it count that I took pictures while my 9 year old daughter held an alligator???) I loved your honesty and openness, and that you included “entrusting your heart” to someone else in your list of accomplishments in crushing fear. Thanks for sharing your wonderful voice and advice. Now I am off to slay my fear dragons–or should I say alligators?–by giving them huge hugs (Thanks, Brian King!).
You are Welcome!
Yes, taking pictures of your 9-year-old daughter holding an alligator counts. lol.
Sheree, we need to have a little talk with this Erika lady-person about why people shouldn’t jump out of a perfectly functional airplane. Was she upset it didn’t have first-class? *shrug*
Oh! Oh! Don’t get me started on the cozy-crocodile-carol thingy.
Oops! it was an alligator, right. Maybe, we can let that one slide.
Sheree – Just make sure the alligators’ mouths are taped shut before you hug them :) Happy fear slaying!
Hm, I’m rethinking this fear thingy. Life includes fear on a regular base. It took this guy a while to recognize that, even longer to accept it. My Logical theoretical self acknowledges the possibility of such a thing., but my intuitive reaction self keeps telling me that logical theories can kick-rocks.
Talk about internal conflict and tension, these two are gonna cause my ego to have an aneurysm. Oh, here we go, Logical-theoretical me disapproves of my aneurysm statement. On and on and…
Now after reading this article, I realize that it’s okay for me to converse with my fear on a regular bases. I mean, if a person can jump out of a perfectly good working airplane (while sober), hold an alligator (um why? Lol), fall in love (what’s that all about), bare her soul in written form for all the world to see (or step on), and still house fears when it comes to writing an article for crazy, unboxed people who adore her, there must be something to this fear interaction thingy. Hm, some fear interpersonal relationship restructuring and nurturing is needed.
Let the reprogramming begin.
That’s been a mindset shift for me too, Brian—realizing that fear is unlikely to ever go away completely. Hopefully by acknowledging it and getting to know it better, we can take away its power over us so we can bring our most authentic selves to the page.
Erika, I related to everything you and everyone here has said. I’m only ankle-deep in the querying process but every ‘no’ sets off my self-doubt. I’ve begun stockpiling tools to keep the monster at bay, and the one that keeps floating to the top is the one you mentioned first. Authenticity. The tendency to feel that I’m not good enough is so powerful. But if I remember why I’m writing, the monster backs off. If I remember that only I can tell this story in this particular way and that not everyone will love it, I can hang in there for the people who will. I love this post. Thank you and all the people who shared.
You are in good company, Susan. I’d bet most writers here (myself included) have experienced rejection and the domino effect of despair that follows. Staying focused on your mission and unique qualifications sounds like a healthy way to keep your doubts and fears at bay. Good luck!
“If I remember that only I can tell this story in this particular way and that not everyone will love it, I can hang in there for the people who will.”
Susan, this works for me. It’s been true of my story all along. Thanks. (Now all I have to do is ignore the whispers that say “the people who will [love it] have dwindled to two…”)
Thanks for this!
The main trouble can come when there are multiple beasts. I’m trying to ward off insecurity and self-doubt and jealousy and indecisiveness. Lately I’ve been feeling overwhelmed by all the things seemingly required to become a successful author–just one of them feels manageable. All of them together does not.
But community helps.
I’m curious, Marta, are you fight four separate beasts or is this, perhaps, one four-headed monster?
I’ve found that my “am I qualified for this?” fear manifests as many different beasts. One day it might look like jealousy, another day it might look like indecision, but when I dig deeper it’s the same underlying fear.
I don’t even know. My writing community keeps me from completely losing perspective, but I’m definitely dealing with underlying issues that have become more determined to raise their ugly heads.
Your article though gives some good ideas.
Erika, thank you for this heart-felt piece on battling our fears. I learned the hard way by not being my best self or doing my best because I was afraid. Nevermind that the fear was only in my head, not a reality. I wonder how many people have deferred their dreams due to fear. It is the stealer of fulfilling lives. Now my practice is to remember I’m a beloved child of God and that I can do all things through Him. It really is true: perfect love casts our fear. I wish I’d learned this when I was young, but it’s never too late. God bless, V.
Beautifully said, Vijaya. Thank you for sharing your hard-earned wisdom with us.
Hi Erika, always a relief to hear that apparently everyone is battling the same demons!
My fear is quite basic and simple. I look at my writing, and a small voice whispers in my head: “Why would anyone want to read this? The story is boring compared to everything that is already out there. Look at all these suspense-packed, action-driven, drastic novels that have already been published? The poor readers will fall asleep reading this, or worse, just throw the book away.”
What can I say? The voice might even be right. The only thing I truthfully can say in response is: “Yes. But this is the story I am writing. It came to me. If no-one will ever read it, I cannot change that. But I need to write it. So go away, fear, and let me do my thing.”
Glad to hear you’re giving yourself the final say, J. Onward!
Hi Erika. This is a great post. I love the it “flows or fights” metaphor. That’s certainly my experience. Neuroscience tells us that when our brains experience fear, problem-solving goes out the window. We simply can’t be at our best when plagued by fears. I like the idea of imagining how we’d respond to a fellow writer. Hearing how many writers, pros and newbies, all fall into the fear trap, should tell us something–it’s natural, understandable, and beatable.