I’ve been meaning to write this post for a while now, but I haven’t had the courage. This post is honest, frank, and uncomfortable. I’m going to reveal something about myself that I’m not proud of. In doing so, I hope I can inspire someone else who might be struggling with similar issues.
What am I talking about?
I’m talking about fear.
A year or so ago, I finished the first draft of my manuscript. I put it away. I let it breathe. I wanted to put some distance between the novel and me so I could view it objectively the next time we saw each other.
I had planned to start revisions this past May, but you know what?
My fear and apprehension had other plans.
As of writing this post, the only step I’ve taken in the revision process is the read-through. I’ve made some notes, but I haven’t gone through with any changes. Why?
Because I’m terrified.
I’m afraid once I start cutting, there will be nothing left. I’m afraid I’ll never make this novel concept work. I’m afraid it won’t be good—no, more than that, I’m afraid it will suck.
When it comes right down to it, I’m afraid of failure.
Let me tell you something—it’s okay to be afraid. In fact, it’s normal. The issue with fear is that it can keep you from achieving your goals if you don’t rise up to challenge it. I realized recently that I’ll never accomplish the very thing I’ve been dreaming of (publication) if I don’t, for lack of a better phrase, suck it up and move on. If I want to finish this novel, I have to face my fears.
And you know what? Moving forward scares me more than I can say, but I’m doing it anyway. I’m pushing ahead.
In writing this blog post, I’m hoping you all will hold me accountable. That means more to me than you can know.
I’m facing my fear. Why don’t you face yours?
Go on. Write something.