The Fear of Writing

When I sit down to write, there is a great filter, like a contact lens over my eyes.  This is my critic deconstructing each paragraph, sentence and word as I write.  The critic being the totalitarianism of each person and grand work of published fiction that I am comparing myself to.

How in the greatest possible world of creativity and art is this helpful to my process?

It isn't.

Why do I persevere?

The answer is that I have no choice.  I cannot help but to write stories.  I must write stories.  My well being, physically, mentally, socially, and relationally withers as each day embarks from the last day that I put pen to paper.

So, how does one fight back the critic, while trying to cull the muse into fantasy and play?

A great scholar once told me that fear is neither good nor bad.  It is how we interpret the fear and allow it to sculpt our perceptions of the world that impacts our day-to-day lives.

He also reminded me that being fearless is not an acceptable personality trait, considering it seems that no one outside of fantasy and fiction has ever been completely fearless.  Rather, accepting the fear exists and going forth anyway.  The courageous and the brave are those that eat breakfast with the fear, have a cordial conversation, and then pay the bill and go forth and succeed (the truly courageous leaves fear to pay the bill).

There is another story that a friend of mine told me not long ago.  He was telling me about a West African tribe that makes money by selling monkeys that they capture.  The way they capture the monkeys is they cut a small opening in a coconut and then nail the coconut to a tree.  They place a candy bar or a banana inside the opening.  The monkeys will place there hand inside the coconut and grab onto the sugar surprise, but they are unable to remove their hands while it is made into a fist.  The monkeys are unwilling to open their hands out of fear they will lose the treat.  The tribesmen capture the immobilized monkey without physical harm or abuse(controversial).

This story I later came to realize is used quite frequently in inspirational lectures.  It is a metaphor for the things in our lives that we hold onto that create a trap for our personal development.  When all we need to do is open our hands and let go.  We write our own stories in our heads and define ourselves based upon these stories.  We hold onto them sometimes with such a fist that we cannot see the world passing us by, but instead are stuck holding onto something that we in many cases don't even remember.  In the end, we just have to let go, and release us from our own imprisonment.

Writing is a tough process, but it can be extremely fulfilling.  Every time we sit down and write, we face our own fears as well as open ourselves to new ones.  I don't claim to be a successful writer, but I do believe that each of us has a story to tell.  If we release ourselves of our judgements, and the judgements imposed upon ourselves by others and just truly tell our story - it will manifest itself as a truly original, amazing, profound, and humorous yarn that is meant to be heard and read, rather than trapped inside of a coconut.

The critic will always be there screaming in our ears.  But all we have to do is open our hands, let go of the fear, and put on some really great sound proofing head phones.