Why We Should Write What Scares Us
By Heather Webb | October 31, 2015 |
https://sixtypayments.com/
As writers, we consider ourselves sensitive, inquisitive, and observant. All great skills for writing complex characters and meaningful narrative, right? The problem is, with these sensibilities we’re easily exposed, we tap into our emotional hot zones and we’re vulnerable. We walk the long mile to understanding another’s plight, and this is painful. Not only is it painful, but we must put our faith in something we’ve made that is ultimately subjective in its value. The creative process demands it. Wrestling with demons is part of what we do. Daily. But there’s one particular demon that is uglier, more terrible, more devastating than the others. It overwhelms us. It cripples us. It steals our self-confidence, our faith, and spreads like a disease within us. This demon is FEAR. I say “we”, because it’s all of us, isn’t it? I was surprised to learn how many writers felt alone in that fear so I went on a research mission. I asked a pack of authors at different places in their careers if they’re fearful during the writing process. Did it stay with them? If so, what scared them most, or what was most difficult? This is what they had to say:
“There’s a point around halfway through every book at which I fear I have lost whatever magic and skills I’ve ever possessed, and I worry that I will never finish the book, and that if I do, it will suck. I’ve come to recognize it as the Soggy Middle Syndrome, and much like the Swamps of Sadness, just giving it a name and fighting through it helps.”—Delilah Dawson, author of WAKE OF VULTURES
“Someone said the longest journey is from the brain to the page. I struggle with getting my thoughts onto the page. Somehow, they’re always better unformed than formed. I fear never being as good as I want to be.”—Martin Fletcher, bestselling author of THE WAR REPORTER & award-winning journalist for NBC
“The hardest thing about writing is the self doubt. Every time I sit down to write I have to shut it off. It tells me that my ideas are bad, my writing is clumsy, my plot lines broken and boring. It whispers that nobody will ever want to read what I write, or that if they do it will be to mock it behind my back. I’m always fighting the secret belief that maybe I used to be able to write, but I’ve lost the knack of it and will never produce anything good again. —Kerry Schafer, author of THE BETWEEN series
“What I fear most: that I won’t be able to arrange the words in a way that lives up to the hopes I have for the story.”—Jan Ellison, author of A SMALL INDISCRETION
“As I strip bare my life to transcribe my worst pains, my greatest joys, my fears and loves, and write my heart onto blank pages, will it amount to a story even remotely moving? Will all I have even be enough?”—Marci Jefferson, author of ENCHANTRESS OF PARIS
“That what I am writing is BORING!”—M.J. Rose, NYT bestselling author of THE WITCH OF PAINTED SORROWS
“I hate the blank page. It mocks me, and unless I go in with a map (an outline) and a flashlight (an irrational belief in the magic of it all), I will get thrown against the rocks of the blank page and torn to pieces. Revision by comparison is easier–you already have a garden roughed out, it’s just a matter of tidying up and planting things.”—Alexandra Hughes, author of THE MIND INVESTIGATIONS series
“That the idea in my head will never get down on the page properly.”—Catherine McKenzie, bestselling author of SMOKE
“I fear the off days, those days when my mind’s blank and I can’t seem to settle down to the writing, and even when I do open the document on my laptop, it’s like pulling teeth. When this happens, I fear that I’ve lost my writing mojo, that I’ll never complete the manuscript, and that, basically, I suck. For me, the key is to let the writing go for that day. Truly let it go, like, don’t think about it at all. The writing always comes back to me; I just need to trust that.”–Lisa Alber, author of THE COUNTY CLARE MYSTERIES
“Inauthentic emotions on the page–not getting the emotional tenor of a scene or an encounter right.”—Bruce Holsinger, author of THE INVENTION OF FIRE
“The dread of what a long haul is ahead of me, sometimes years!, and the fact that all that effort may not add up to brilliance, or anything at all.”—Karen Essex, international bestselling author of DRACULA IN LOVE
“What do I fear most? ‘THE FEAR’. That awful moment (around 60,000 words) when I begin to really struggle with plot, pace, characters – everything! – and convince myself this is the worst thing ever written. It happens every time. Writing through this phase is like walking through a thorny forest, but write through it you must because waiting somewhere up ahead is a wonderful ‘ta-dah!’ moment where everything makes sense again.”—Hazel Gaynor, NYT bestselling author of A MEMORY OF VIOLETS
Regardless of your place in the writing journey, we are ALL AFRAID. Afraid of not being good enough, of never being successful (or being successful ever again). Or the worst of all, of never being able to write again.
But like most things, fear can be turned on its head. Yes, it can have a positive spin. FEAR CAN MOTIVATE YOU.
Without fear, we become complacent and stagnant. With stagnation comes a plateau in our storytelling, in our growth. We write the same manuscript over and over again, and we become a cliché. So BE AFRAID, than funnel that fear into your gas tank. Let it be the fuel that drives you forward, helps you focus your efforts, and pushes you to greater heights.
Fear can be crippling, but it can also make you the best writer you can be.
What scares you and how will you work to vanquish it? Happy Halloween!
Heather Webb is the USA Today bestselling and award-winning author of historical fiction. As a freelance editor and an adjunct in a MFA in Creative Writing program, Heather has helped many writers sign with agents and go on to sell at market. When not writing, she feeds her cookbook addiction, geeks out on history and pop culture, and looks for excuses to head to the other side of the world. To date, her books have been translated to seventeen languages.
Ohhh, what a handy post today, Heather. Lisa Alber’s idea to stop for the moment and that you “just need to trust the writing,” strikes me as important. Actually it’s good to hear that so many others have the same anxieties. I often feel better when I know such fears are fairly normal. But sometimes these fears can really get you down and blockade. Funny, you bring this up now, I’ve just read an amazing book on feeling blue about these things in your life. “The Van Gogh Blues” by Eric Maisel. It’s actually about anxieties and discovery of the creative self … bringing meaning into the process. This book opened up new thoughts for me about the self-doubt that comes along with creative endeavors. Sometimes I wonder if the self-doubt isn’t a critical part of the talent and the drive.
Hi Paula — it took me awhile to figure this out. I used to browbeat myself on the off days — which only made it worse. Just yesterday (Friday), I had a fantastic writing day, and that was after a bad Thursday. I think that letting it go for Thursday allowed story thoughts to marinate, then yesterday: yowza! I love that feeling.
I wonder about self-doubt too. I think it keeps us on our toes.
Paula, thanks for the book rec! I’ll pick that up for sure. I agree with you–there’s something about the doubt and fear that’s important to keep us in a place where we consistently strive to do better.
Yes, it’s almost like “I fear, therefore I … write!” My feedback group—we are only four, but it’s all you need—help me deal with this emotion and with the “I suck” days. Having people you trust tell you, over and over again, that your writing doesn’t suck, is a great boon. So make sure you have a company of writers around you for support.
Anne, I couldn’t agree more. I have my critique partners for this as well, and also an author co-op I belong to where we kvetch about the rigors and the roller coaster- nature of the industry. It really helps me not take it all so seriously and to stay positive.
“Feel the fear and do it anyway.”
And to make it even better, write the fear into the story.
The biggest fear? Publication.
I did it anyway. I survived.
The bigger fear (I know I said biggest before): being ignored after you take that huge risk, after the family and friends have bought their ‘love you’ copy.
So you shrug, get back to work, and prepare to do it again.
Because you REALLY fear dying with the story left untold.
“You REALLY fear dying with the story left untold.” Such a poignant statement and utterly true. We creatives are intense, n’est-ce pas? Thank you for your comment today!
Heather,
The direction this post took surprised me. From the title, I thought you would be talking about the psychological states we writers dread about existence, our personal vulnerabilities, states that demand more than we are prepared to feel. I expected we would be encouraged to explore with our tongues and fingers and hearts those aspects we (and our characters) are terrified of tasting, feeling, knowing. EG: What does it feel like to be washed up on a beach, literally wet and without prospects, like the refugees from Syria? To me that’s really scary.
What the quotes of these successful authors are referring to, though, seems uniformly to be self-doubt, in this case the fear of failure. Here’s my question back to you. Particularly given how self-doubt–and its evil twin, self-sabotage–stops so much of the writing process, can one write well without it?
I’m interested to hear how writers, published and not, use self-doubt to make great work, because it seems like wasted time to me. If some of the authors in the post care to respond, so much the better. How does it work for them?
My intent is to see drafting, the empty page and the ocean of as yet unwritten pages every narrative presents as a process of continual clarification and sharpening. I get excited to see what will show up out of the unknowable cloud of creativity. It’s like carving from a block of stone; you can’t see it until it’s finished and buffed. The cosponsoring attitude is to see days of poor writing as a necessary part of the process. A passage can’t get better if it doesn’t start out clumsy or inaccurate. I have rarely written a sentence, let alone a paragraph, that makes the final draft. The best I can, I shrug those days off, knowing they are a start and that new words will flow tomorrow. Hemingway said that the first draft is always s%$t. Well, the second and third ones, and right on through, still have some aroma of merde, no? To be expected. At last it starts smelling pretty good. (Sometimes my editor sets me straight, ouch. And back I go to it.)
Obviously your quoted authors are wired to great work. I aspire to become like them, just without the self-flagellation. Am I on the wrong track? If so, where do you buy your whips?
Aw just admit it, Tom. You’re an admirably odd duck among us puny humans. Who needs self-flagellation when we have you around to remind us how foolish we are for harboring doubt?
Anyway, thanks for giving me something to aspire to. Orange whips all around, on me. Cheers!
Vaughn, I’ll buy odd, I’ll buy duck – nothing admirable in either. I just try to be efficient with the limited time and psychic energy I have. I’ve learned the hard way that self-criticism leads mostly to more of the same. But, let’s be honest. I sit on the sidelines while a ton of those you call puny humans soar in literature. So how long a whip works best?
Hello Tom, great discussion question! How to use self-doubt to make great work? Accept that it’s going to rear up at times, and let it go. Metaphorically speaking, put it in your pocket and go on about the business of writing. You don’t even have to try to banish it (which would probably just make worse). Self-doubting thoughts don’t mean anything. Although they feel real, they’re not. They’re not directives or commands, and they don’t indicate anything about our worthiness as writers or the quality of our writing. The way I get on with the writing (“great work” is so subjective) is to remind myself of exactly this.
This might not be what you wanted to hear. Truth is, self-doubt is a secondary emotion, like shame; in and of itself it has no purpose, but it does mask something deeper and more primary — as Heather said: a fear. Fear of failure, of success, of feeling vulnerable or exposed, whatever it is. We all deal with fear — it’s part of the human psyche. The real question is: How to manage our big emotions like fear so that they don’t get in the way of our writing, our lives?
A question thousands of people deal with in therapy every week!
Lisa, Thanks so much for picking up the threads. And I’ll look into your work with pleasure.
Your excerpt: “Self-doubting thoughts don’t mean anything. Although they feel real, they’re not. They’re not directives or commands, and they don’t indicate anything about our worthiness as writers or the quality of our writing.”
Well said. Self doubt does not comment on or enhance the quality of one’s writing. As you point out it is a secondary emotion, another layer that can inhibit one’s process. Heather replies below the struggle yields another something that comes onto the page that is great. I think the greatness of writers that succeed is in spite of that fear, not because of it. And she confesses to wanting to dump it. I think that’s why I’m raising the issue, rather than just supporting surrender without investigation.
You separate self-doubt from fear of failure and success etc. where I see them as close as fuel and fire. Feeling exposed and vulnerable is the writer’s gig, but why invest in a (self-doubt) fire that doesn’t need to be lit? There are tons of fears that enrich the muse, in us and all around us, and that is the territory readers want to access and want writers to offer . . .
(Of course readers also experience and want help with fear of failure, so a writer’s knowledge of that can be good.)
Subject for another post anyone? How far does a writer need to go in order to write about something? I don’t need to be beaten to a pulp to be able to write about being beaten to a pulp or to fear it.
Tom, thanks for your thoughtful comment! Undoubtedly, there are many aspects of fear in the writers’ life we can explore under that title. That may have been my hook. ;)
As for the quotes these authors provided, you see self-doubt and there is some for sure–which indicates a deeper set of lurking emotions (those we must learn to access as writers)–but I see a group of highly professional, accomplished authors who dare to bare themselves, who dare to be the subject of scrutiny, possibly soaring to great literary heights, possibly sinking to the pit of Amazonian ridicule. I see their bravery, and most of all, I see their similarity to each of us as we struggle to tell the best story we can. I wanted to share that with you all today to help you feel less alone.
I applaud you for your ability to bypass self-flagellation! All of that “wasted time”, as you mentioned, however, doesn’t keep successful writers from achieving, it pushes them to create BETTER. Still, if there’s a way to eliminate it completely, I would buy tickets on that train every time. Write on!
Thanks Heather for taking the time to respond.
My comment was in no way meant to disparage the work or bravery required of the great writers you invited in (or of any other writers, published and not.) Writing IS a brave art. And the market/industry conditions make it more so with each technological advance. I was trying to address their expressions that went to self-doubt and then to pose a (rhetorical) question about the necessity of this.
The skill and bravery to expose and be vulnerable is required of good writing in any case. But are the self-doubt and the fear that fuels it helpful? If not, what should we do? You confess to wanting to dump it or set it aside. What would that require of us? As an experiment, let’s explore that, try that and see how it goes.
Anyway, idle thoughts on a post Halloween morning.
Not at all, Tom. :) Thank you for comments as always! You raise some great questions.
Great post, Heather! In one of my critique groups that had a revolving door, with people coming and going over time, my observation has been that those with the least self-doubt are the least talented writers. So, I guess if that’s the standard by which to measure talent, I’m the next Margaret Atwood! :-)
Thanks Densie for your insight. I’ll be weighing it for a long time.
One Margaret Atwood is quite enough, IMO.
Denise, I’ve found that to be mostly true as well, though not entirely. Of course, the more success one has had, theoretically, the more confident we become. That is true, in a sense; we’ve had some sort of validation. But ultimately, gret success also increases the pressure ten-fold. Thanks for your comment.
Heather, I’ve been reminded by a mentor that my fear will steer me to “the good stuff.” With that in mind, love this Steven Pressfield quote:
“Fear is good. Like self-doubt, fear is an indicator. Fear tells us what we have to do.
Remember our rule of thumb: The more scared we are of a work or calling, the more sure we can be that we have to do it.
Resistance is experienced as fear; the degree of fear equates to the strength of Resistance. Therefore the more fear we feel about a specific enterprise, the more certain we can be that that enterprise is important to us and to the growth of our soul. That’s why we feel so much Resistance. If it meant nothing to us, there’d be no Resistance.”
Thanks for letting me know I’m not alone on a gloomy Saturday. Hope you have a delightfully scary Halloween, my friend. Boo!
Vaughn, thank you for sharing that beautiful quote. I’m copying it and pinning it above my desk! It will remind me, daily, to keep working toward the good stuff! :)
Fear can certainly be motivating. It can also stimulate the very content of your work. My novels always start with some personal life-fear that I then transfer to my characters. They live it, work it out, so I don’t have to.
It’s like free therapy sometimes, right? Thank you for your comment, Beth!
This is so timely, Heather, what with Halloween and having all those beasties out there wandering the streets. I wonder if our ancestors came up with ideas like dressing up in costume to personify all the demons that live inside us? Maybe the trick is to treat our personal beasties to a Hershey Bar and accept that live side by side with us for a reason. Vaughn mentioned resistance and reminded me that I experience the most pain when I fight the fear, and that the Resistance, like pain, is really an indicator that something is up. I tend to forget this when I’m in the clutches of my own terror, though. Your post is a welcome reminder that I’m not alone. Happy Halloween!
Yes! I love this idea– we feed our beasties chocolate to keep them at bay, but we need them the way we need our better qualities. Thank you for your lovely comment.
Fear can be a good thing in that it keeps our emotions in check and compels us to proceed with caution into unknown situations. People who say they’re fearless aren’t brave; they’re just stupid. Fear can be bad in that it freezes us into inaction; thus, paralyzing us into doing nothing. With little if anything achieved, we become entrenched in the mundane and the ordinary and subsequently hidden from those around us.
I’m pretty much all feared-out. I’ve spent most of my life afraid of doing things differently; of visiting the unfamiliar and seeking the unknown. I grew up so shy and timid that I never wanted to take chances. Even now, I don’t look at people as potential friends, but potential adversaries. While I’m still cautious about things and try to think first before acting or speaking, I don’t let fear captivate me anymore. It’s been tough breaking free from that grip because I’m so accustomed to NOT taking chances. Through my writing, though, I’ve allowed myself to venture outwards. I finally learned to have respect for myself, and that’s forced me to stop being afraid.
Writing as empowerment! This is a beautiful sentiment, Alejandro–thanks for sharing it. Good for you for pushing past that which has held you hostage. I wish you all the luck in the world as you continue to explore and grow and expand your craft (and your life!). :)
I hate beginnings. I fear that the first sentence or paragraph will doom me to boring readers (and editors), thus killing the one shot to make them want to read on. To combat this fear, I study the beginning of favorite novels, and allow myself time to daydream about the book.
It’s interesting what keeps us from pressing forward. I love beginnings! In life(mostly) and in novels. There’s something fresh and exciting about them for me. I do not, however, enjoy my slog through the middle much at all. That’s when all of my confidence leaves me. Every time.
I think your way of combating this fear is an excellent one. The single most helpful tool for me to grow as a writer has been to read mindfully, study the books I love and implement the authors’ strategies. Here’s maybe a helpful hint for you as you go forward. Novel beginnings tend to revolve around the moment the character’s life changes and sets them on a new path. But then, you probably knew that. Thank you for your comment! :)
I think and can understand how writing what scares us most can be good for us. Personally, my writing often reflects my emotions – it is my release, especially as I write a lot of poetry. Sometimes you have thoughts and feelings you don’t want to admit to yourself, and writing that, with fear channeling you, leaves you with the best work. I also hate writing endings and beginnings, but they have to happen eventually as well ^^
Following this blog on bloglovin now! I love it so far :)
I finally finished reading Virginia Woolf’s abridged diaries this weekend. They are full of swings between fear and exhilaration while writing. And the book she most struggled with, that she believed would have her scorned most, was the one that ended up selling the most copies by far in her lifetime (The Years). All of the ups and downs familiar to writers were there. Certainly a kindred spirit when it comes to craft. I encourage other writers to delve into her diaries. They were so fascinating and lovely and ugly.
This was a great article. As an inspiring writer with huge goals, I too fear that my writing is not good enough and I’m wasting my time. But at the end of day, you have to follow your passion and believe in yourself when no one else does.