Overcoming The Fear of Putting Your Work Out There

I've written several blog posts on writing over on our writers' group blog, some of which I'd like to share here as well. This one was originally posted on March 22, 2023.

We all have our irrational fears – clowns, alien abductions, zombies, the three little circles formed by the lenses of an iPhone (also known as trypophobia.) Even if we haven’t experienced actual trauma from irrational fears, they make us uncomfortable and this leads us to avoid them.

Perhaps we have good reasons for this – our peace of mind, for example. Zombies scare the crap out of me, though thankfully I’ve never actually encountered a real one. I know that a zombie movie or show will give me nightmares, so I avoid them like, you know, the plague. And I sleep better for it. Good strategy.

But sometimes, our irrational fears limit us. We writers spend time, heart and brain space crafting our tales, usually with the intention of sharing them with the world. Committing that much of ourselves to something we’ve created and then holding it up for the world to see is terrifying. We are faced with potential rejection or apathy, and that can be soul-crushing. The fear of that experience can often keep us from putting our work out there at all. To put your work out there and actually receive rejection or apathy can convince us that it’s not worth it. 

It's important to remember, though, that opinions are subjective. Just because one publisher, or one audience, or one contest doesn’t accept your work, doesn’t mean your work sucks. Really! Often it comes down to a numbers game – how many submissions there were, and where your work falls in that hierarchy. It may even come down to something as little as a fraction of a point, or not enough space. That doesn’t mean your work was bad! It just means it didn’t fit this particular situation. It may not have fit one gatekeeper, but maybe it fits another. Knowing this gives us a little perspective.

I am irrationally terrified of rogue waves. I’ve had the same ship sinking nightmare since I was a young child. Anytime I see a film or show that involves a ship sinking I’ll have nightmares for a week – some new ones, but it also dredges up the same one from my youth. I can’t handle being on boats, big or small. They terrify me!

Recently, Meta shoved a reel of a ship in bad weather into my feed, and my first reaction was to swipe it away and avoid the fear. But I found myself actually watching it – the swell of the wave climbing higher and higher as the bow of the ship pitched steeply, holding my breath until the ship fell sharply and the wave crashed over it. I was transfixed, and horrified, and I braced for the inevitable nightmares.

But for the first time ever, they didn’t come. And because I watched that one reel, Meta keeps putting more and more wave footage into my feed. I watch them all in horror and awe from the safety of my couch, and I haven’t had a single ship-sinking nightmare. Mind you, I’ve no intention of getting on a boat if I can avoid it, but it got me thinking about that irrational fear and how just letting myself be open to it, instead of instantly rejecting it, has kept the nightmares at bay.

If we look at fear as entering a dark room, where giant shapes loom in the corners, we can only imagine them as monsters (or clowns?) that are waiting to get us. But what happens if we turn on a light? That thing we’re convinced is a giant beast is actually just an armoire, or a dresser or coat rack. If we spend a moment with our fears and examine them for what they really are, it can take away the bite. And maybe with enough practice, the discomfort.

So how do we apply this as writers to our fears of rejection and apathy? We turn on the light. We allow our minds to look at what we’re afraid of, sit with it, understand it, and then move into that room despite it. Here are some things to try:

EXPOSURE THERAPY

The more you put your work out there, the more opportunity you have for a win. If you can steel yourself to accept rejection as a part of the process and not as a personal affront, it makes it easier to keep submitting. As I said earlier, often it comes down to miniscule things that get your piece rejected, not the quality of it. Keep that in mind, and keep submitting.

SET YOURSELF UP FOR SUCCESS

You have a better shot at getting your work accepted if you take the time to understand what you’re submitting to. If it’s a contest, magazine, or anthology, follow the submission guidelines. That means understanding the formatting, story length, and theme/prompt/tone they are asking for. If it specifically says not to do something – don’t do it. You are not an exception, and that’s the quickest way to get rejected. Why set yourself up for that? It’s quite common that writers don’t get accepted simply because they’ve not done their homework on submitting. Be thorough, and you'll successfully jump through the first hoop!

CONSIDER ADVICE OR FEEDBACK

If you get specific feedback from a publisher, editor, or contest reviewer that seems like good advice, consider it. I’m not saying they’re always right when it comes to how you should tell your story – we could go utterly mad if we made every single change suggested and it didn’t jive with our original vision. (We writers have the option to reject things as well!) But keep an open mind when it comes to feedback – it’s not personal. It’s usually suggestions – often from professionals – to improve our work, and a good opportunity for us to learn to be better writers and how to get published. Keep an open mind and make choices that work best for the integrity of your story.

SELF PUBLISH

If you want to ensure you won’t get rejected by agents or publishers, become an independent author. What used to be considered a vanity option for writers is now a vast, booming industry, with countless success stories of authors who’ve either made it on their own or have been picked up by publishers and agents because of the following they have created for their body of work. Yes, you will still face some rejection and apathy as an indie author (trust me, haha). But you will have much more control and flexibility as a creative and you’ll be able to take things at your own pace and comfort level as you test the waters. (Perhaps that’s why those stormy sea videos don’t scare me as much as they used to – because I’ve stepped into scary waters. Who knows!)

If you feel like you’re ready to flick on the light and face the armoires and clowns and iPhone 11 camera lenses, here is a link with tons of upcoming opportunities for story submissions:

Go forth, fellow creatives, and put your work out there! And be reassured that someone, somewhere, at some point will connect with it. And that is worth the rejections that come before it!

Sunshine Through The Brain Fog

Imagine you created a fictional world and everyone/everything in it, then rewrote parts of it slightly differently in each decade of your life, until your 40s where it all finally came together in (what you hope is) the book it was always supposed to be. We're talking decades of inventing new characters, cutting old characters, new plot twists, deepening of storylines, building and re-building of the world and its cultures, character evolutions, name changes and so forth. There's so much world, so many people and through-lines and stakes, and it's all in tattered notebooks, various types of computer files and mostly, your head.

And then, just when it's all coming together, your brain decides "You know what? Stress and some health issues have kind of pushed me into a big-ass ball of 'nope.' So I'm gonna force you to slow your ass down with a little tune I like to call Fibromyalgia."

And you're like, "Come on, Brain. I really need you to work right now. I am sooo close to hitting deadlines I've set for myself with this book, and I have a bitchin' idea for a sequel. I have to get through these rewrites."

And your brain's like "Look, I get that. But here's the thing - this pile of stress junk-mail that's been accumulating for the last five years is taking up all of my processing power. I've been trying to warn you for years with friendly reminder migraines that this was becoming an issue for me, but you didn't slow your roll."

And you're like, "Oh - that's what those were? I thought that was hormones."

And your brain's like, "Nope. Those were 'warning, inbox approaching full' messages."

And you're like, "Oh. Shit."

And your brain's like, "Look, I'm all for working on this book, but you gotta clean out your inbox first."

And you're like, "Ok, how long is that going to take?"

And your brain's like, "Hahaha. Well, how fast can you open, read, and either file or shred all of this junk mail?"

And you're like, "Oh. Shit."

And your brain's like, "Yeah. Gotta do the work."

And you're like, Sigh. "Okay. But can you at least give me some inspiration and productivity amidst the junk-mail-clearing process?

And your brain's like, "Absolutely. IF you can balance it and not let more junk mail pile up."

And you're like, "Oh! Totally! I'm an amazing multitasker! Have you not seen my work history? I was a Production Coordinator Extraordinaire! That's ALL I did - multitask like nobody's business!"

And your brain's like, "Uh, Lady, that's how we got in this situation in the first place. We need to completely reconfigure how you tackle things."

And you're like, waving it off, already on four tasks at once. "Sure thing, Brain. No worries. I can do that."

And your brain's like, "Nope." wraps itself in something fluffy and cottony. "POOF! Brain fog."

And you're like, " ... I .... can't ... words ..."

And your brain's like, "That's better. Now. Let's try this again. Rest, exercise, hydrate, sort through emotional stressors. One task at a time, one foot in front of the other. And no sugar binging."

And you're like, Sigh. "Okay." does the work, starts feeling better. "Oh hey, you're right! This works!"

And your brain's like, "Great! Let's keep this up! Here's a little inspiration, too. You've earned it."

And you're like, "OMG, thank you!" proceeds to write until 1 am ahead of a packed few days, gets no sleep because mind won't stop racing with story. "Uggh, so tired. Gotta go do all the things today, and tomorrow, and the next two days. And I forgot breakfast. NEED CAKE. AND COFFEE. AND FRENCH FRIES. No time to meditate. Why is everything too loud and bright and why do I want to cry? What is wrong with me? Am I dying? I must be dying! WHY AM I TALKING SO MUCH?"

And your brain's like, sigh. "Let's try this again." wraps itself in something fluffy and cottony. "POOF! Brain fog. And also, here's a crap-ton of pain. Because you need to learn, dumbass."

And you're like, Sigh. "You're right, Brain. I was feeling so good for a bit there I forgot about this Fibromyalgia thing."

And your brain's like, "I getcha. But hey, if you don't keep up with this, and really do the work, it's just going to get shittier. Do you understand?"

And you're like, Firm nod. "Yes. I completely understand. I know what I have to do. Thank you for the reminder."

(Repeat the above cycle for the better part of two years. Which brings us to the present ...)

And now your brain's like, "Ok. So. This last round I threw in some scarier stuff because I really want to get your attention before things get worse."

And you're like, "I get you this time. I know I suck at sticking to things. I always have. But I get it now. And look, I'm really tired of feeling shitty all the time. I left the crazy work stuff behind me, I've been working on that junk mail pile (Damn! It's huge!) and I have been reading all the books and information I can on how to get through all of this and make a positive lifestyle change. I think I might finally be at the point where I get it."

And your brain's like, "I've known you for forty-something years. We'll be through this again, I'm sure. But I believe you, and I'm here for you. Just try and remember - you have some element of control over this, but you have to make the effort."

And you're like, "Thanks, Brain. I'm sorry I keep beating you up."

And your brain's like, "It's all good. We're in this together. Let's go call up Heart and maybe have a little chat about self-compassion, shall we?"

And you're like, "That sounds nice. And I'd really like to finish my book and write the next one, you know."

And your brain's like, "Let's do this work, and I think that'll help you do the writing work."

And you're like, "Cool." practices mindful breathing which has now become a habit instead of a forced-reminder thing. "Hey! Look what I did there!"

And your brain's like, "Good job! See? You can do this."

And you're like, "Yes. I can."

The preceding is a blog post from the archives, written in 2019, but ever relevant to navigating my writing and creative process with a chronic illness.