Fear
"The important thing is to work every day. I work from about seven until about noon. Then I go fishing or swimming, or whatever I want. The best way is always to stop when you are going good. If you do that you'll never be stuck. And don't think or worry about it until you start to write again the next day. That way your subconscious will be working on it all the time, but if you worry about it, your brain will get tired before you start again. But work every day. No matter what has happened the day or night before, get up and bite on the nail."
- Ernest Hemingway in a 1961 interview with Edward Stafford for Writer's Digest
Wow. Words of wisdom from one of the greatest. So, why do I feel like I'm going to burst into tears or throw up every time I think about writing more than a magazine article or a blog post? Why? Just thinking about sitting down and writing gives me such anxiety that I am almost frozen to the spot where the idea hits me.
I want so badly to say I'm an author. Right now, I feel disappointment in myself when I tell someone I'm a writer. I want to be an author. I want to feel that pride in myself. I want to be proud of me the way I'm proud of my son, the artist. The pride I have in my son, the straight-A awesome athlete. The pride I have in my beautiful, clever and charming daughter. The pride I have in my husband, the wonderful coach and work manager. I want that pride for me. Right now? If you asked me and I was honest, I feel like a failure. I know, logically, I am not. I'm living my dream. I know that. I recognize that. But, deep down, I feel like a failure. Voted most likely to succeed among my senior class. I haven't lived up to that. I look all around at the people I graduated with - one has been a state representative and is a government lobbyist; another is the assistant to one of the big wigs at Hillwood Development; some are teachers; some are artists; some are living in quarter-million dollar homes. Me? I'm a mom. I'm good at it. I'm a writer. I've achieved what most writers haven't - the ability to work from home while sitting in a baseball jersey and my panties while conducting business calls with multi-millionaire real estate moguls.
Should I be proud? Yeah, I probably should. But, I know there is more for me. I just have to overcome the fear. The terror that grips me from my gut. I just don't know how to do it. I'm taking tiny baby steps toward beating it down, but so far, I haven't found a big enough stick to kill it.
- Ernest Hemingway in a 1961 interview with Edward Stafford for Writer's Digest
Wow. Words of wisdom from one of the greatest. So, why do I feel like I'm going to burst into tears or throw up every time I think about writing more than a magazine article or a blog post? Why? Just thinking about sitting down and writing gives me such anxiety that I am almost frozen to the spot where the idea hits me.
I want so badly to say I'm an author. Right now, I feel disappointment in myself when I tell someone I'm a writer. I want to be an author. I want to feel that pride in myself. I want to be proud of me the way I'm proud of my son, the artist. The pride I have in my son, the straight-A awesome athlete. The pride I have in my beautiful, clever and charming daughter. The pride I have in my husband, the wonderful coach and work manager. I want that pride for me. Right now? If you asked me and I was honest, I feel like a failure. I know, logically, I am not. I'm living my dream. I know that. I recognize that. But, deep down, I feel like a failure. Voted most likely to succeed among my senior class. I haven't lived up to that. I look all around at the people I graduated with - one has been a state representative and is a government lobbyist; another is the assistant to one of the big wigs at Hillwood Development; some are teachers; some are artists; some are living in quarter-million dollar homes. Me? I'm a mom. I'm good at it. I'm a writer. I've achieved what most writers haven't - the ability to work from home while sitting in a baseball jersey and my panties while conducting business calls with multi-millionaire real estate moguls.
Should I be proud? Yeah, I probably should. But, I know there is more for me. I just have to overcome the fear. The terror that grips me from my gut. I just don't know how to do it. I'm taking tiny baby steps toward beating it down, but so far, I haven't found a big enough stick to kill it.
3 Comments:
At 2:15 PM, October 17, 2007,
Anonymous said…
I know you are aiming to write non-fiction. I'm a fiction writer (not author yet but working on it). I finally found the gumption to write (and finish) something by using Chris Baty's "No Plot, No Problem" method. There is even a National Novel Writing Month. You might want to undertake the experience of it just to train you into writing every day. I know it worked for me, and while I'm still not traditionally published, I am writing, and finishing things, and that's a HUGE step toward success.
The book is No Plot, No Problem. THe website is www.nanowrimo.org
At 3:42 PM, October 17, 2007,
Anonymous said…
You may not feel that you have accomplished much in your life, but ask those that know.
Ask your kids what they think.
Ask AOD what he thinks.
You have the most improtant job of all staring you in the face when it's bedtime.
Children are the most crucial thing in the world.
They are our future.
When you raise them, you are forming our future.
Never forget that.
Rob
At 2:03 PM, October 19, 2007,
Anonymous said…
Not to digress, but I'll bet that if real estate moguls KNEW you were calling them while wearing a baseball shirt and panties . . . they'd return your phone calls a LOT quicker.
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