I’m declaring 2010 my year of living bravely. (Credit goes to Philippa Ballantine and Mur Lafferty for the inspiration.) Why would I make such a declaration? For most of my life, I’ve let fear hold me back from things I wanted to do. Granted, I beat the fear on a number of occasions. Driving a horse at nearly 30 miles an hour while perched on a flimsy sulky would be a good example.
But about this year. My biggest fears – that are technically within my control – all relate to my writing. I’m afraid that I won’t complete a second book. I’m afraid that my writing is crap beyond redemption. I’m afraid that I won’t be able to learn enough about the craft to fix my first book, which I dearly love. As I do learn more, I become afraid that my writing is worse than crap beyond redemption, that it might be the antimatter that will destroy the universe. Okay, that’s a bit much, but it’s illustrative.
Over time, I’ve discovered that I deal best with fear through action. To that end, I’m dedicating the little free time I have to learning more about the craft. And it’s funny how things fall into place. I’m taking a self-editing workshop now, and I just received an online workshop notification from Pennwriters for a dialog workshop. Only last night I realized that my characters talk too much and do too little. Their talk is all relevant to the plot – how do you stop an author and an actor from talking a lot? – but I need to set more of it against action.
There are other areas in my life that will require courage of the ordinary sort. I’ll be finishing my medical transcription course this year. Then I’ll have to write a resume – eep! – and find a job. I’ve been a stay-at-home-mom for the last nine years. There isn’t much to put on that resume. References will be a problem. I’ve lost touch with my mentor/former boss. My other potential reference was elderly 10 years ago when I left. Oh, I don’t want to think about this.
So, I just took a deep breath and reminded myself that I need to take one thing at a time. I don’t think the fear will go away, but I will find ways to deal with it. Heck, even heroes are afraid. I reminded my daughter yesterday that heroes are people who do the right thing even when they are afraid. I don’t need to be a hero, but the concept applies.
I know I’m not alone with my fears, so I’d like to hear how everyone else copes.
6 comments
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January 21, 2010 at 10:00 am
Helen
Sometimes I get so scared I can’t even pray for help.
Then I remember others are praying for me, and I just sit and remind God that others are praying for me, and I hope He is listening to them…
January 21, 2010 at 1:11 pm
abouttothunder
Thank you, Helen. That’s something I need to remember too.
January 21, 2010 at 11:22 am
uninvoked
You’ve driven a racing harness horse? What was it like?? Details!
January 21, 2010 at 1:16 pm
abouttothunder
I used to own several harness horses back before I had a kid. When my mentor invited me to drive for the first time, he asked me if I liked roller coasters. Yes, it could be like that. It could also be muddy, cold, buggy, and on the stone track, gritty. The training miles felt like flying. I could feel the strength of the horse and it was awe inspiring. It could also be very scary if the horse broke stride or stumble. It’s easy to get pitched off a sulky or a jog cart. Been there, done that too.
Someday, I’ll write a story that draws on my various horse backgrounds.
January 22, 2010 at 5:14 pm
vvdenman
Oh my. I just typed a grandiose reply about my fears, concerns, etc. It was quite good. I revised it several times. Then I suddenly realized that you don’t need to hear it. You need to hear this:
YOU CAN DO IT! WE CAN BOTH DO IT! WE JUST HAVE TO KEEP PLUGGING AWAY AT IT, BUT WE ARE GOOD WRITERS!
Wow. That felt good. If I didn’t live in a suburban neighborhood I think I might go outside on the backporch and scream it a few times. (I might anyway.) Listen and see if you can hear me . . .
January 22, 2010 at 5:49 pm
abouttothunder
You’re absolutely right. We can both do this. It doesn’t have to be overwhelming. Baby steps. I’m learning when it comes to writing problems, that I need to just let them simmer in my brain for a while. I already think I found a solution for my big chapter 2 problem. It was one I didn’t even know I had until my crit partner pointed it out. This is progress. I celebrate progress. To live bravely, I must also live positively.