I need to take my fear to the end of the line or it will eat away at me for the rest of time. So a statement like the one above can feel so much scarier than it really is. Until I start to question what the hell I even mean by it.
Who measures what’s good enough? (The readers. But, even then, it’s about finding the right ones for me.)
Is there some committee out there who will fault me in any way if my story isn’t as good as it could be? (No.)
Will I never be able to write again if this story isn’t perfect? (No. In fact, the whole point is to get better with each story.)
What does perfect even look like? (Doing the best I can with what I have from where I am.)
Will a bad review ruin my life? (No. And I don’t have to listen to them.)
What happens if this book doesn’t launch my career and win me accolades? (I’ll write another.)
Am I placing too many expectations on this one story (and can I eliminate them somehow)? (If I’m not writing because of what might be, then, yes. Instead, I need to set goals and figure out how to hold myself accountable.)
Can I find a reason to still write this book even if it isn’t perfect? (Yes, plenty.)
Why spend my time doing something I’m so anxious about? (I shouldn’t. Writing doesn’t have to be so stressful. The only reason it is right now, is because I’m making it that way.)
What’s my motivation for writing this story? (To fictionalize what I’m processing in my mind. To explore what I can create. To have fun doing something I love.)
Answering these questions (like, actually writing down the answers or talking through them with someone else) proves to the part of me not totally paralyzed by the fear that nothing is as scary as it seems. It helps me still face the blank page (sometimes anyway).
And if that doesn’t work, I remind myself of the research on lizard brain, monkey mind, or cognitive behavioral therapy. Personifying my fear is sometimes the only way to get around it.
The alternative is to not write at all. At least then I wouldn’t have to measure the story against unrealistic expectations. But would I feel fulfilled?
(# Of words I wrote for my manuscript today: 302)