On Fear

I’ve always been fearful. Even as a child, I was nervous and high-strung. It frustrated my mother. She wanted me to enjoy things, experience life. More than once, when I refused to do something out of fear, she would pull me close and promise that she would never let me do anything that would hurt me. But in addition to my fear, I am stubborn, so I always stood firm and refused to do whatever it was that scared me.

I am phobic about heights. Seriously. I can’t even ride glass elevators. I’m not ashamed of this, nor do I care to overcome this fear. I like my feet firmly on the ground.

But I spent a very long time being afraid of failure. When I was younger, I refused to do anything that I didn’t already feel I was good at. I would not step outside my comfort zone, because more than anything, I feared looking stupid, or inept, or, God forbid, average.

I missed out on a lot of opportunities because of this fear. I quit the track team because I never won a race. I didn’t allow myself to write often because I knew I wasn’t any good. Now the two things that bring me such joy are running and writing. I missed years of doing these activities because I wasn’t perfect at them, and I demanded perfection from myself.

And then I grew up. It was really running that taught me I didn’t have to be perfect to enjoy something. I fell in love with running, with the discipline and the achievement that came from competing in marathons. I’ve never won a race, but I’ve beaten myself time and time again. I learned that it isn’t about competing against others, but against yourself, and becoming the best self you can be.

Running gave me the courage to write. At first I was terrified of rejection, but that got easier. Then I was terrified of being published, because there is nothing more soul-baring than sharing your words with strangers.

But I did it anyway.

I’m still afraid. The project I’m working on right now terrifies me because the characters are very different than I am and I want to do them justice. I want to get the history and culture correct, I want to represent truthfully and fairly. I want so many things with this project; wanting is a scary thing.

This week is full of things that terrify me. Today I have something exciting and terrifying happening. I hardly slept last night. Tomorrow I fly out to attend the NOVA Teen Book Festival, and while I’m thrilled and excited to be a part, I’m also nervous. I hate flying. It makes me sick and, more than anything, I can’t stand being dependent on others. Flying requires me to do nothing and hope my flights are on time and that they don’t lose my luggage. The lack of control causes me so much anxiety. But it will also be my first time on panels, and though I make my living off of standing in front of teens and talking books, adults intimidate me a little.

There’s a great quote in Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar: “Cowards die many times before their deaths;/The valiant never taste of death but once.”

Being afraid is normal. But if we let fear dictate our lives, we’ll never truly live.

I still fear failure. But I'm not going to let it stop me.

Waiting on the Debut

I wanted to do a post on waiting on a debut because I myself am waiting on my debut and wanted both commiseration and consolation. For me, now at about twenty days away, there are times when it still doesn’t feel real. I wanted to know how others were dealing with the wait and how others have survived the wait. (Check back later this week for advice from those who survived their debuts.) I’m so grateful that two lovely and incredible writers, Dahlia Adler and Jaye Robin Brown, agreed to let us in on just how they are surviving that wait.

 

When did it feel real?

Dahlia: This is horrible to say, but the thing that really made it hit home for me was seeing it on Goodreads and realizing I was now open to bad reviews. Like, the offer and seeing it on Publisher’s Marketplace and signing the contract and all of that was amazing, but the real gut Oh my God, this is happening came with the bad review realization.

Jaye Robin: Honestly? It still feels surreal. But I suppose all the official things —signing a contract, getting an advance check, programming a Harper Collins’ editor’s phone number into my cell phone—all work towards making it feel like it will eventually happen. I’m supposed to receive cover art in the next month or so, now that will be a milestone!

 

What are you most afraid of?

Dahlia: Oh, God, everything, pretty much. Mostly of letting people inside my head, I think. Not strangers—strangers are welcome!—but family, close friends… anyone who’s ever watched me kinda space out, writing in my head, or say no to plans because I have deadlines to make. I want them to read it and go “Ooookay, now I get it,” not, “Really? This is why she bailed on my party?” Writing is this thing everyone who loves me just assumes I’m good at, because I love it. But while passion and skill are both important, they aren’t the same thing. Having something out in the world will allow people to decide whether I only possess the former. It’s unnerving to think about. I’m trying not to!

Jaye Robin: Readers not connecting with my book.

 

What is the one thing you’re most excited about?

Dahlia: Just seeing the thing. On a shelf. Preferably not my own. I imagine it’s miraculous.

Jaye Robin: Readers connecting with Amber and her dreams!

 

What would tell your “before the book deal” self?

Dahlia: A lot of the “after” stuff is going to be like the “before”—a ton of hard work, and a ton of waiting. Only now, you have the pressure of having people invested in you, financially and otherwise. Appreciate this period right now when you’re only accountable to yourself.

Jaye Robin: Practice patience. And keep in mind that, to your editor, the manuscript you sweated and toiled over and had multiple beta readers and agent eyes on, is only a first draft. You’re starting from go again in many ways. Embrace it.

 

What advice would you give those who are in the middle of the querying/submission process?

Dahlia: Take the time to know what you really want, and to learn how things work. If you don’t understand why a bad agent is worse than no agent, or a bad contract worse than no contract, you are probably not ready to do this professionally yet. And that’s okay. You don’t automatically become ready to sign on the dotted line somewhere just because you finished writing a book. Research is part of the process. Don’t let anyone pressure you into going at a pace you’re not comfortable with, or a path you’re not comfortable with. It’s even okay to write for fun, I promise J

That said, if you do want to get published, don’t give up. It may be annoying to hear “Write something new!” or heartbreaking to realize it’s time to put that manuscript you love on a shelf, but the reality is, writing something new is always going to be part of being an author. Knowing when something doesn’t work right now? Always going to be part of being an author. And rejection? Always going to be part of being an author. So yeah, it pays to get accustomed to that early, and just keep going!

Jaye Robin: Work on other projects. Get invested in a new story. That way, if things don’t work out ideally, you’re not standing empty-handed! Always, always keep writing.

 

 

Dahlia Adler's Behind the Scenes will be released June 24, 2014, by Spencer Hill Contemporary. You should also follow her on Twitter because she's awesome, wears many hats (including a tiara), and dispenses wise advice.

Jaye Robin Brown's No Place To Fall will be out Fall 2014 with Harper Teen. You should follow her on Twitter because she is phenomenal, loves dogs (just look at that face), and is up early with the 5 AM writers' club!

Letting Go

Reclaimed will be out in the world in six months, and while I am filled with excitement, there is also an overwhelming fear because I will no longer have control over it. I wonder if this is the same fear that many parents feel as they push their little ones out of the house and onto the school bus that first day of kindergarten.  As they carry yet another box into their child’s dorm room.  I have nurtured this book and now it will soon be out of my hands and to me, that is so totally exhilarating and at the same time so totally terrifying that I find myself wanting to jump up and down in joy while screaming in sheer terror.

Ahem. 

I am someone who fears.  As a child, I feared failure enough that I didn’t always do things that I thought would be interesting solely because there was no guarantee I would be any good at them.  I missed out on a lot of fun and adventure because I chose to only do those things which I knew I could. 

At a very young age I was afraid of writing.  Or rather, I was afraid of others reading my writing.  I was afraid they would think it was horrible. That I was. I was afraid they would think I actually thought I was good when it was so obvious I wasn’t.  I was afraid of their rejection or their pity.  I was stupid.

Conquering those things we once thought impossible makes us better. It teaches us humility and shows us how exhilarating, how spectacular, how truly terrifying life can be.

Maybe I am the only one who feels this way.  I doubt it.  I am sure that even those calm, collected authors have a tiny moment of panic when they realize they can’t revise that scene anymore, tweak that sentence.  When they realize that their flaws as a writer will be on display for everyone to see, that their baby, a printed, black and white piece of their soul, will be examined and picked over. Except that is exactly what I want – for someone else to know and love my characters, for someone else to get chills during that scene or laugh out loud just like I did when writing it.  Writers want their books to do for their readers what countless other books have done for them – transport them, entertain them, show truth in fiction.

Because that’s why I write.  I write because I love books.  So for all of you writers out there who have gotten past that fear and shared your books with the world – thanks.  I am who I am because of countless authors who were brave enough to create art and then let it out into the world.