Some people say they write only for themselves. Whether that is true or not, whether they put words on screen only to read them back to themselves, I cannot say for sure. But one thing I know. Many writers, particularly those hoping to become published authors, write with the hope that someone, someday, will read them.
But what if they do read our work? What then?
I am reaching the stage in my memoir where I am looking for honest feedback on chapters. I want to see what a real reader thinks. What flows for them and which parts feel awkward. What emotional connection, if any, they have to the story.
And yet I am afraid.
I have belonged to many writer critique groups, organized and moderated by professional authors. We told each other the good parts (always the good first) and the needs-work parts. But it was always collegial, writer-to-writer, imbued with a sense of community—a community of writers.
But it is also important to hear from people with their readers’ hats on. Because our story needs to work first and foremost on that level.
How to Confront a Writing Fear
1. Name it.
Whatever your fear as a writer, the first step to conquering it is naming it.
With fiction, we may fear that our stories will be boring, or pointless, or full of bland characters.
With memoir, on top of all those things, we might be afraid that someone will consider our childhood too bizarre, our family too strange, our needs and motives sinister, selfish or out-of-step with society.
Above all, in memoir, we fear that we will come across as a self-absorbed whiner, a ‘navel gazer.’
2. Know that many good writers own their fears.
One of my favorite authors on the craft of writing is Bonnie Friedman, who wrote a little jewel called Writing Past Dark. In it she said:
“Every day I must prove I am a writer. The knowledge goes away in my sleep.”
Cynthia Ozick, author of numerous novels and shorter works of fiction, said:
“I have to talk myself into bravery with every sentence.”
And even the authors of our beloved classics are not immune. Writing to his publisher, at the age of twenty-six, a full two years before The Great Gatsby was published, F. Scott Fitzgerald wrote:
“I doubt if, after all, I’ll ever write anything again worth putting in print.”
3. Work through the fear.
This may be the hardest one to do. Because our books are extensions of ourselves, we take it as a critique of us.
It is not. It is just our work. Try to separate the two.
4. Have several projects going on at once—and don’t stalk your reader.
Blogging has taught me a lot about this step. Forget the work you just handed to a friend or colleague. Go on to something else.
Above all, don’t hide behind that couch, watching and waiting for every facial expression and gesture. That’s just putting too much pressure on the reader (and yourself).
5. Whatever you do, don’t apologize for your work.
It is tempting to be like Eliza in @inkygirl’s comic strip. “It’s just a rough draft.” “I’m still working on the middle part.” “Keep in mind it’s a work-in-progress.”
Because we never feel our work is quite ready to see the light of day, right? The things you are looking for in a critique—of your book or just a few chapters of your story—are fresh eyes, honest feedback on plot and a sense of the emotional impact on the reader.
So “zip the mouth and throw away the key,” as they used to say, smile and move on with your writing.
Special thanks to the brilliant Debbie Ridpath Ohi, children’s book illustrator and cartoonist, who generously gave me permission to use her work here.
What about you?
Do you ever get butterflies when it’s time to hand your work over to a “friendly reader”?
Have you tamed all your peer fears?
Josh says
August 14, 2013 at 6:37 amI have been very selective with who gets to see my writing, not just my fiction but the pieces where I just write and let go.
Call that two different pieces of ‘fear and concern’ about what comes next. Been thinking about it quite a bit and I haven’t identified all of the pieces that are tied into this personally, but I am close.
But can’t move on without getting over that hump so I suppose I have to attack it sooner than later.
Great comic strip, so true.
Judy Lee Dunn says
August 14, 2013 at 9:46 amJosh,
I am finding that the more I share my work, the easier it gets. But, surprisingly, it’s a little harder to share with my friends than it is with, say, a writers’ critique group. Don’t know why. And then some of my writing is just “free writing” and I don’t show that to anyone. : )
I think if we are honest, we’ll admit that we all have one kind of fear or another related to our writing. Great to see you here!
Joan Z. Rough says
August 14, 2013 at 7:36 amJudy, I loved Writing Past Dark. And yes, we all have our fears. I try to look at my whole life as a work in progress and getting over the fear is one of the things I work on all the time. If we don’t let go and get over our fear we won’t be living a good life.
Joan
Judy Lee Dunn says
August 14, 2013 at 9:50 amI pull out Writing Past Dark at least a few times a year. Need those reminders in my life.
And it is so true—what puts the fear of God in me might not bother you at all. We are all so different! Enjoyed your post this morning, Joan. It was a nice way to start my day.
Lyndie Blevins says
August 14, 2013 at 7:59 amGreat quotes and cartoons, thanks for sharing
I’m having a hard time even starting,,,,,
Judy Lee Dunn says
August 14, 2013 at 9:53 amLyndie,
You know, I was googling writer fears to prepare for this post and a Stephen King quote came up, which I almost included. He said:
“Starting is the scariest part of writing a book.”
Not true for all writers, but for a lot, I am sure. For me, it’s finishing that first draft and wondering if I have something of value or not. Thanks for stopping by!
Dana Trentini says
August 14, 2013 at 8:10 amJudy,
This article really resonates with me. I spent 3 years thinking about starting my blog. The real reason it took me that long was fear. I’m now planning to start writing my first book. This time I threw fear out the window and I’m going for it. I look forward to reading your memoir Judy.
Judy Lee Dunn says
August 14, 2013 at 9:55 amDana,
I am very excited that you are planning your book! You have developed such a following and a lot of valuable connections/relationships./ This is what agents and publishers of nonfiction books are looking for.
And, yes, with practice, throwing fear out the window gets easier.
Wynn says
August 14, 2013 at 10:44 amThank you for writing this thought-provoking post about the dilemma writers face–I’m thinking you may have written it just for me! 🙂
“Whatever you do, don’t apologize for your work.” = the kick in the pants I needed today.
Judy Lee Dunn says
August 14, 2013 at 11:46 amLove it when that happens! It is a fine line we writers walk, isn’t it? Be open to constructive feedback but never apologize for our work. Glad this post hit you at just the right time. : )
Kim Phillips says
August 14, 2013 at 11:00 amI had (notice past tense) a friend who asked me to read her book draft and tell her what I thought. She had ambitiously attempted to weave together three disparate stories into a cohesive whole, alternating by chapter, in about 1,000 pages. I told her that I thought she had three good books and that I would separate them (they never came together in the big eclat she seemed to be shooting for, and each one really did stand alone). She never spoke to me again. Never again will I agree to read someone’s book before it is on my Kindle.
Judy Lee Dunn says
August 14, 2013 at 11:49 amKim,
What an awful experience that must have been for you! But glad you shared here. Because while we fear being vulnerable by putting our work out there, we need to also think about how it feels to be on the other side, the reading end. Such a good point you made and thanks for offering that perspective. : )
Deborah Taylor-French says
August 14, 2013 at 3:13 pmNo, I haven’t tamed my fears of sharing with a first reader or peer writers. I do find that if I give myself completely to a first draft then let it sit, while writing nonfiction or revising various works-in-progress. A each chapter or short piece needs a little cooling off time before I revise is my rule of thumb.
Did Monet do collage work when he could no longer see his brush strokes? I think someone asked him about his physical pain in his wheelchair and having to use an assistant. He replied, “Yes, I have pain, but the joy of the work is worth it.”
Of course, my goals keep me moving to higher levels of craft and soul, but the fear goes away as I hike farther into that ever expansive wilderness made of words.
Judy Lee Dunn says
August 15, 2013 at 7:05 amDeborah,
I think you are speaking in part to #4 here. If you have enough projects in the works, you are not likely to obsess over any single one. I just force myself to move on to new chapters. And taking joy in the work itself (as you alluded to in your quote about Monet) is a wonderful thought. Thanks for sharing here.
Kaarina Dillabough says
August 18, 2013 at 11:13 amYou are creating something of tremendous value, born out of love, poignant (and sometimes painful) memory, and you cannot help but be close to it, and to have all the fears and trepidation we all have when birthing something new and exciting. To quote our pal Josh “Just write baby, just write”. I have that on my desk and I start each day looking at it to remind me to do just that. Cheers! Kaarina
Judy Lee Dunn says
August 18, 2013 at 2:42 pmKaarina,
What a beautiful comment. You have reminded me that we write because we have a passion for the story and need to tell it. It is that belief that we need to hold close to our hearts, the belief that the story might make a difference in someone’s life. “Just write.” Those are perfect words. Thanks.
Katherine Hetzel says
September 2, 2013 at 12:13 amI’ve seen a lot posted about writers and fear recently – even blogged about it myself (Squidge’s Scribbles – ‘Fear – and writing’). No 3 on your list struck a chord, because I find it so difficult to separate the judgement against my writing from judgement of ME.
Thanks for the dose of realism – and the fab cartoons!
Judy Lee Dunn says
September 2, 2013 at 7:06 amKatherine,
Yes, many bloggers/authors write about fear, I think, because every time we put pen to paper, every time we put our work out there for the world to see, we are taking a risk. I work on #3 all the time myself so not surprised to hear your thoughts on that one.
And aren’t Debbie’s cartoons the best? She seems to get to the heart of what it’s all about. Thanks for visiting and sharing here.
Chloe Jeffreys says
July 12, 2014 at 8:45 amI loved the quotes from the writers about facing one’s fears and having to remind yourself that you can write each and every time you sit down to put fingers to keyboard. I’m in a bit of a drought myself. I have two pieces I NEED to write, but I just feel empty inside when I try. This is the major reason why I have abandoned trying to pursue anything more than entertainment with my blog. My muse cannot take the pressure.
I think writing memoir has to be one of the most difficult genres there is. Because if people don’t like it then it is hard not to take is personally since it is you life.
Judy Lee Dunn says
July 12, 2014 at 9:43 amChloe, my friend,
I strongly encourage you to still write a little every day. You have such an amazing voice—and important things to say.
Everything changed for me the day I finally decided that I don’t need The Muse to show up, that I could write anyway. It took me YEARS to figure that one out. I blogged about this once, with a suggestion that we envision our “muse,” give her a name and a face (for me, my muse could morph into my Editor at the blink of an eye) and put her in a shoe box.
Because the problem with her (at least for me) is that she can get all bitchy at a moment’s notice. She doesn’t just inspire, she tries to decide too much stuff for me. So I decided to name her Mrs. Brumbley, after my third grade teacher. She got me all excited about writing, then tore apart the first poem I wrote, with angry scratches from her red pencil.
If you don’t feel that cruel and heartless, poke a few holes in the top of the box, so you don’t kill her, you just put her in her place. And, especially if your Muse morphs into your Editor, in your mind, put that shoebox outside on the front step.
Another writer friend of mine has a three-word sentence tacked to his computer screen. It says, “Just write, baby.”