A few days ago, Angie Michaelis, wrote a very interesting and wise blog about the role fear plays in the writing process.  For most of us, it is a demon always present, sometimes so huge it’s insurmountable, sometimes so puny we can laugh in its face.  But it’s always there.  I read Angie’s blog and thought,”Wow, how interesting.  But I don’t think I’ll write about that.”  Now several days later, I am somehow remembering the lesson I learned while writing Tangled Roots.  The issues I thought I didn’t “need” to write about were precisely the ones which needed writing about the most.  So, it’s time to write about fear.

As I alluded to on my Facebook status line today (I love those daily clues into peoples’ heads!), I feel like I am in mid-leap, looking down at the ground and wondering when, how, if I will land.  Next week all the Tangled Roots hoopla starts in earnest – books land in shops, the launches are held, there are talks and signings and interviews all lined up.  Anyone would think that I would be purely thrilled and excited.  One long-time friend said to me, “Sue — you’re the only person I know who could have a life’s dream come true and stand there saying, ‘gee, I don’t know, we’ll see, maybe not…'” So, yes, I’m thrilled and excited and euphoric and itching to go.  But, to be honest, I’m also scared.
What if nobody buys my book?  What if people buy it and hate it?  What if I travel all around the UK and find myself sitting behind desk after desk signing books for no one?  What’s worse, bad reviews or no reviews?  And the biggest fear of all, what if this really does change my life?  I have been assured that all of these are “normal” fears, not only for the first-time novelist, but for every book a writer ever publishes, whether it’s her first or 100th.  I suppose the trick is, as the yogis would say, to notice the fear, acknowledge it, but not attach to it. Nod in its direction, but then move on — which I am able to do about 35% of the time.  So what’s happening the rest of the time?
I think I am discovering that I don’t like adrenaline.  This world is certainly filled with adrenaline junkies; those people who thrive on that sense of anticipation and excitement.  But I’m just not one of them.  Never have been.  I always hated horror films and roller coasters.  I always got my work done way in advance of the deadline, because I hated that last-minute-nerves feeling.  But here I am in a situation where I have almost no control and it’s driving me crazy.  Maybe that’s why I love writing fiction.  At least when you make something up you can delude yourself into thinking you are controlling your characters’ fates (though of course, as we all know, those little buggers still do tend to take over their lives leaving your best intentions in the dust).  But in “real life” we actually never have much control either, and it’s a lesson I might as well learn now and find a way to grow comfortable with.
Writing my novel has been a huge learning experience for me.  Getting it published and releasing it out into the public has been just as huge a lesson.  So now that I’ve chosen to make this enormous leap in the first place, I think it would be best to close my eyes, throw my head back into the wind and fall as I will. Writing about fear — it’s more important than I thought.  And it works.  By shining a huge flourescent light on those nasty demons, it forces them to stand up straight and tart themselves up.  Then they don’t look quite so scary anymore.