This is scary, y'all...
Want to know a secret?
I’m scared shitless about this whole writing thing.
If I could insert the little poop emoji right now, I would.
When I first started all of this, I would have said that the writing was the hardest part. There’s the mechanical part of it…good sentence structure…not starting every sentence with “I”…the debate of two spaces after a period or just one. Then there’s the part about writing well. Showing not telling…writing what is necessary to push the story forward…avoiding the purple prose…and my nemesis: rhetorical questions.
Friends. All of that was the easier part.
I don’t want to downplay the writing as easy because for some people, that is the hard part. Sometimes authors are told they need to work on their voice. Or pacing. Or plot. Or tighten things up. Or cut stuff they love (believe me, that is hard).
Querying? Yes. That’s hard, too. And it’s hard to read an e-mail that says, “Sorry, but…” It’s all a part of the game that is building a business relationship. I’ve had rejection letters already and I’ve told myself I get a day to be bummed. Then it’s right back into the thick of it to see what I can do to make that manuscript better.
But the fear is what is looming for me after the call from an agent or editor or publisher saying, “We want to work with you.”
Because yes. I do believe that call will come.
For me, the fear I have looks like this:
Fear of not selling enough books.
Fear of stressing about edits.
Fear of dreaming so much that my real job suffers.
Fear of not dreaming big enough so this never takes off.
Fear of trying to market and you spend more money than you make.
Fear of having to explain myself over and over again that romance is not a sluff genre.
Fear of not coming up for air and sacrificing my self-care needs.
Fear of not being taken seriously by the authors at the adult table while I’m still at the kiddie table.
Fear of burn out.
Fear of writing the same story over and over but with different characters.
Fear of upsetting someone because something I wrote was a trigger—and I didn’t intend it that way.
Fear of being present to build my brand but it fails miserably.
Fear of missing a deadline.
Fear of being dropped by my agent/editor/publisher.
Fear of being a mass produced product.
Fear of not being able to vent because I’ll seem ungrateful.
I know I’m not alone, thankfully. But dang. Our minds can be scary places, can’t they?