Our Wednesday evening Bible study group is reading Max Lucado’s book “Fearless.” It’s interesting to hear what others are afraid of and how they deal with those fears. The book is great–zooming in on some of our most common fears and talking about how to handle them as Christians. It got me thinking, though, about the special set of fears that come with writing a novel and how I deal with them.
1) My book will never be published and this is a HUGE waste of time.
I’ve spent years writing a book and a third so far. What if no one ever reads them? It could easily happen–waaaaay more books are written than published. I’ve tried to consider why I’m writing–for fame and fortune? Or because I feel called to write and feel God’s pleasure in it. If it’s the second reason, then it doesn’t matter if the book is published.
2) What if my book is published and people hate it?
Guess what–someone, maybe more than one someone will hate it. People will criticize it, find problems with it, pan it and toss their copy in the trash. I try to remember that once I let go of something I’ve written, it’s open to interpretation and everyone brings a different history and life of baggage with them. Hopefully, if I’m criticized, I’ll be able to learn from it.
3) What if I’m a one-hit wonder?
So was Harper Lee.
4) What if I develop writer’s block.
I’ve not felt like writing before. I haven’t been able to think of anything worth writing before. When I get like that I try to either take a time-limited break or just force myself to write through it. Usually, when I force myself to write, the joy and flow come back pretty quickly. I think it’s just the Devil trying to distract me.
5) What if I lose the ability to write.
This would be like losing a leg for me. I just have to remind myself that I’m not my writing and so far when God has closed a door in my life, He’s opened a window. Somtimes I don’t even notice I’m using the window until I’ve been doing it for a long time.
Matthew 5:34 – Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.
A book and a third…?
I’ve read it. 😉