No room for you inside my house


I’m going to let you in on a little secret: I have a terrible fear of failure.

When I was writing and trying to get an agent, sometimes the only way I could get over the fear was to tell myself that I wasn’t really trying to get an agent, that the only person who ever had to read my books was me. And that worked.

The problem is that now I can’t use that little trick. I’ve been booted into the realm of “hey, who cares if this sucks, no-one’s ever going to read it” to “O sweet lord if I fail, I fail publicly.”

It’s one of the things that’s made me most scared about tackling these revisions for BW – the idea that it’s not just about me any more, but about other people. People who are going to look at each other and wonder what the hell I was thinking when I believed I could write.

Today while I was working on the small stuff, I hit a chapter where even the small stuff was big stuff. A chapter that had to be rewritten – the point where the book left the story I had written originally and set off for new and interesting vistas. And I knew that I had to stop putting off the big revisons because of my fear of failure and just swoop that story down a new road and if it fell, it fell.

So we have wordage, we have a new plot thread snaking out. I can let a little of the fear go and close my eyes as I barrel down this unexplored path.

Wish me luck.


related post