Fear of Failure

You have an idea for a transgender villain. Or a scene involving the vice president’s wife as a party to traitorous behavior. Or a character who will become the nation’s first Islamic president. They fit perfectly with your novel and will make it stand out. Your creative energy breathes life into these characters every day.

Yet, you don’t pull the trigger.

You don’t write the scene, and eventually give up, moving on to more plebian and predictable characters, thereby converting your provocative and exciting book into one that gets lost in the crowd.

There are many reasons why we novelists gets to the very brink of success yet refuse to jump the gap.

One on them is the fear of failure.

Fear            
Not only is fear not bad, it is essential as a protective mechanism. By urging us to take safety steps, it keeps us from losing a truck in a torrential rainstorm, from being struck by lightning in an open park, or sliding into a passenger seat with a drunk behind the wheel, Fear, and our reaction to it saves our lives every week.

But how we react to fear is up to us, and one of our challenges is the reaction to the fear of failure.

Each of the three writing scenarios above are exhilarating but put the author at risk. A significant part of the audience may react badly to these new exciting characters. You could sustain withering criticism for writing a book containing them. Critics  may send in horrible posts, vilifying you on social media. You may get scathing reviews. claiming that you have  become too extreme, and encourage others not to read your work.

This is what fear tells you. It’s just trying to protect you.

But what is your reaction. For many of us, these public besmirshments diminish the author’s value publicaly, leading the author to self-dimes their own sense of their personal value.

This is the great trap.

Self-devaluation is you attacking you own life. While you protect yourself against  attacks from outside, you are vulnerable to attacks from within. These assaults are emotionally rending, and their withering impact disconnects us from the best of ourselves. The fires of imagination and audacity are doused. We lose our ability to think critically, to  articulate complex ideas, and to laugh at ourselves. Life devolves to persistent emotional pain and drudgery with palpable physical symptoms.

It is no wonder that the mere idea of taking a risk and assuming its  responsibility is so hateful to so many people, producing overwhelming emotional pain.

The Cure
Establish strong self-worth. Know with approval that you have unshakable high value because of who you are. Whether you believe in God or not, it is undeniable that at some point, part of the universe developed a new focus − and you were created. No book review, Amazon comment, or tweet can rob you of that. This sense of self-worth is independent of your environment. Ruin dinner? Ok. Self-worth is still high. Big tax bill? So what. Self-worth  is high. Get  a “D” on a performance evaluation. Self-worth is high.

I am not saying to ignore your problems because of your self-worth. I am saying face and deal with them because you have self-worth.

While failure always remains a possibility, the strong writer knows that she will suffer no lasting damage in the face in a career setback due to an innovative received novel. This energizing knowledge permits her to apply her best talents freely and diligently to the project at hand with no core dread of the consequences of blame.

This is the key, liberating step that many good writers take. It is an exercise. Sometimes you need do this weekly, but many times we should take it daily. Examine your sense of value. If is low, fortify it, ensuring that it is separated and protected from  thoughts, critiques, and criticism of others. Having freed yourself from this fear, stabilizing your self-worth in the process, stay connected to your core talents, drawing upon your best judgment, your best wisdom, and your best vision to write and publish your novel.

Of course, the author accepts responsibility and blame for a failed novel. But the strong writer recognizes that accepting blame does not open the door to destructive self-condemnation. She accepts the blame, while ensuring that this acceptance will do her no harm. She will learn from the defeat, but not have her self-respect and sense of value damaged or diminished by it.

In this demented, slaughterhouse of a world, groups of people, lost and confused by the millions, do not wait for the next billionaire. Instead  they yearn to be reached, encouraged, and uplifted in their daily lives. Good writing does that.  They are waiting to hear what you have to say. Strengthen your self-worth, write your best, and publish.