Threatening
First . . . a Buddhist quote.
A further sign of health is that we don't become undone by fear and trembling, but we take it as a message that it's time to stop struggling and look directly at what's threatening us.
~Pema Chodron
I freely admit, I have trembled at facing a book. Facing a deadline. I have. I have trembled at sending proposals to editors--pouring my heart into an idea and then knowing an editor has the power to reject it out of the gate. I recently talked with a writer friend about how rejections don't stop because you're published. It's just the tenor changes. Now it's your numbers are weak, your readers expect x, this isn't hot anymore, this is too deep for commercial fiction, I didn't like this character because she's too b*tchy, women won't buy this, men won't buy this, teens won't buy this. Take your pick. I can tremble over things like that.
Sometimes I fear I am not "writer enough" for the idea I have. It all seems so perfect in my head, but when it gets there up on my computer screen, I cringe.
But really, it's not the work, the editor, the agent, the rejection, the deadline. It's the fear behind it that threatens us.
The fear of pain (of rejection), of facing the idea that we have to work harder, that maybe we're not as talented as we thought we were and then what does THAT mean, the fear that we've poured so much TIME into something that perhaps will not come to be no matter how much we want it, the fear that our habits of procrastination and disorganization will be our undoing and we simply won't make the deadline. All those external things that we tremble in the face of . . . we must stop struggling against. What is REALLY there?
I often think of Buddhism, of philosophy, of faith, of listening for the still small voice that is God, as going into a damp forest and turning over a rock and shining a flashlight at all the creepy millipedes under there. We have to face the ugly stuff, but if we leave the rock turned over for long enough, something wonderful will happen. Because eventually, the sun will arc over the forest and a little of its light will filter down through the leaves and touch the formerly hidden earth. The millipedes will squirm away, and we will be left with some rich soil in which to dig our fingers.
So . . . what threatens you? What makes you tremble? What are you facing today?
A further sign of health is that we don't become undone by fear and trembling, but we take it as a message that it's time to stop struggling and look directly at what's threatening us.
~Pema Chodron
I freely admit, I have trembled at facing a book. Facing a deadline. I have. I have trembled at sending proposals to editors--pouring my heart into an idea and then knowing an editor has the power to reject it out of the gate. I recently talked with a writer friend about how rejections don't stop because you're published. It's just the tenor changes. Now it's your numbers are weak, your readers expect x, this isn't hot anymore, this is too deep for commercial fiction, I didn't like this character because she's too b*tchy, women won't buy this, men won't buy this, teens won't buy this. Take your pick. I can tremble over things like that.
Sometimes I fear I am not "writer enough" for the idea I have. It all seems so perfect in my head, but when it gets there up on my computer screen, I cringe.
But really, it's not the work, the editor, the agent, the rejection, the deadline. It's the fear behind it that threatens us.
The fear of pain (of rejection), of facing the idea that we have to work harder, that maybe we're not as talented as we thought we were and then what does THAT mean, the fear that we've poured so much TIME into something that perhaps will not come to be no matter how much we want it, the fear that our habits of procrastination and disorganization will be our undoing and we simply won't make the deadline. All those external things that we tremble in the face of . . . we must stop struggling against. What is REALLY there?
I often think of Buddhism, of philosophy, of faith, of listening for the still small voice that is God, as going into a damp forest and turning over a rock and shining a flashlight at all the creepy millipedes under there. We have to face the ugly stuff, but if we leave the rock turned over for long enough, something wonderful will happen. Because eventually, the sun will arc over the forest and a little of its light will filter down through the leaves and touch the formerly hidden earth. The millipedes will squirm away, and we will be left with some rich soil in which to dig our fingers.
So . . . what threatens you? What makes you tremble? What are you facing today?
Labels: writing fears
posted by Erica Orloff at 6:20 AM
27 Comments:
Erica, my published writer friends have these fears, but somehow I thought you were immune. You seem so sure of yourself and your talent.
I guess my real fear is that my writing isn't good enough, but I use the fear. It compels me to write better.
Hi Edie:
I don't think anyone is immune. I think . . . for me, it's that little doubt. I was always the "outsider girl" in high school, in college . . . and so I don't know that you ever lose that. Not 100%. But then you . . . find the voice inside that says you can do anything. And you listen to it more. The big difference, I guess, is my fearful days aren't days. They are moments. And I refuse to feed them.
:-)
E
Hmmm, I really love that quote.
I suppose, given my current circumstances, there are two things: One is, I'm afraid my novel-writing "career", such as it is, might be over and done, I had my shot and that's it.
In terms of my nonfiction career, I suppose I'm afraid that with my current large projects I may have finally overextended my grasp and I'm going to screw up.
Gee, Erica, this was fun. Can we talk about our worst fears again, because, you know, you just can't have enough depression and misery in your life. (I think I'll go listen to Johnny Cash singing "Hurt" now, thanks.) :)
"But really, it's not the work, the editor, the agent, the rejection, the deadline. It's the fear behind it that threatens us."
I guess, in a nutshell 'the fear behind it' is thinking we'll never be good enough. Ultimately it's really only ourselves and failing the expectations we have for ourselves that we fear.
Okay, I'm all done trying to be deep. I'm going over to Mark's to catch some Johnny Cash. =)
What am I facing today? A keyboard and a snow shovel, culminating in the fear that I will either become buried alive in white drifts or the WIPS will come after me! although...if I got snowed in, I'd HAVE to write, wouldn't I? Ha! I shall fearlessly avoid that shovel. ;-)
Erica, I love the discussions here. Insightful doesn't begin to cover it. And, I need to check out more Buddist quotes. I love them!
When I acknowledge fear, it's usually in the form of, "What if your chacters don't talk to you today?" I'm all about characters, and losing a piece of that would haunt me. Like you, it's moments only. No feeding here either. Why should I give that little pizzer a piece of my soul? LOL. Not going to happen.
What makes you tremble?
Depositions. Actually, the entire American/legal/judicial system makes me pee my pants. It's scary as shit being in a courtroom. Doesn't matter what role you play -- plaintiff, defendant, jury, witness. It's all scary.
It's not the fear of the work that keeps me from writing. I'm pretty good at laying things out so an entire book looks feasible as long as I don't examine it all too closely. What scares me is the thought of doing it all in vain. The first two books were practice books, and I knew that. The work was worth it because I knew I wouldn't ever try to have them published; I was just learning how to write a whole book and learning that I *could* write a whole book. Now, though, the though of going to all that work only to have it rejected is painful and downright terrifying.
I don't fear rejection or criticism, but it is quite the humbling experience when you get an eight-page critique spelling out exactly why something you've worked on for a long time is absolute (and probably unsalvageable) rubbish.
It isn't fear, really, but the self-doubt comes crashing down like a piano dropped from a skyscraper.
Today I'm up against the wall. Do I know enough information to make this scene believable? Can I mine into the character and put into words the feelings she has?
Darn it, I hit enter before I finished my comment.
But once I spelled out those fears they don't seem so scary now. The trick is not to feed them so they get big and scaly and bloated with red eyes and smoke coming out of their ears.
With that, I go to the gym!
Mary
I also have that "am I writer enough to make this idea happen" fear. I fear that the words won't be there. I fear editing because I'm afraid I can't fix it.
One thing that irks me though is the "this is too deep for commercial fiction" concept. How is that even possible? To me thats like saying "could you dumb this down a little for us, we don't think readers are smart enough to get it."
Mmm, today's not a fear day. DH called yesterday and sounds healthy. I woke up this morning with four cats all cuddled around me. I'm writing again, thanks to the challenge. It's the next novella, though, so that's fun enough.
Life feels better now that I'm writing again. Ask me again in a week, though. :-)
After my workout and writing at my local coffee shop I realized what I'm REALLY afraid of. It's giving up. I'm terrified that one day I'll roll out of bed having given up on this whole writing thing. Not necessarily giving up on publishing but giving up the writing.
My first mentor had a very successful screenwriting career in early 50's but when he gave up alcohol, he never sold or published another thing. He wrote columns for his local paper but for twenty years, he went to his typewriter in the garage every day to write. Even when he was dying of prostate cancer, he taught writing classes at USC where I met him. He never gave up. I strive to be like him.
Mary
Mary,
I'm afraid of that too. I've before had long spans of time where I didn't write or didn't think about writing and while I always come back to it, sometimes I worry, "what if I don't next time." I guess that if I didn't it would reflect on the fact that something in me had changed and it was no longer what I wanted, but it's still something that I worry about sometimes, that I'll just stop.
Oh Gosh, Mark . . . I didn't mean to depress anyone! I just felt like . . . be afraid of what you are REALLY afraid of. Take it out into the light of day.
E
P.S. And your "shot" isn't over. Your shot isn't over until you are dead.
lainey:
LOL! You cleared a path to your door yet?
E
ladonna:
You gave me my laugh for the day. Absolutely. Screw that pizzer.
E
karm:
Cops, too.
Terrify me.
E
booklady . . .
I hear you. I write comedy. Chick lit is dead. Now what?
Can't go there. Business is cyclical. Comedy will be back!
E
Jude;
This biz is full of many humbling experiences.
Sigh.
E
Mary . . .
Wow . . . You know, I have wondered sometimes if I will run out of steam. When people say, "Oh, you're prolific . . . AND with four kids" . . . I start to think, what if I just get burned out one day? But so far, so good.
E
Spy:
YAY! Sounds like a great day!
E
Hi Zoe:
I've been a writer so long . . . it's part of my identity. I don't know what I would do/think if I stopped.
E
Know what I'm really afraid of?
Zombies.
I'm sure you love zombies, Erica, 'cause they eat cops sometimes. ;)
Nope, not depressed. Hence, the emoticon:
:)
I'm tougher than that, anyway. And I agree with you. My shot's not over unless I quit, which I won't do, so...
Jude:
Love zombie movies.
E
Mark:
I thought you were tough. Good . . . no quitting. :-)
E
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