Beware of the Bitch, She's Giving Birth

Wow, I’m sure after yesterday’s post, you’re thinking that I am quite the overconfident, conceited, arrogant bitch, aren’t you?  After all, didn’t I just completely shred a fellow writer’s hard work? Didn’t I just “slice‘em & dice‘em” just because they composed an article and then (*GASP*) actually had the balls to get it published? Even worse, then I proceeded to say that I believed I could have done better? Pretty goddamn superior and full of myself, aren’t I?

Perhaps I should have been more clear about my thoughts, and that any perceived flaws were ONLY in MY OPINION. The connection I was trying to make was that obviously the editor didn’t see any faults, but yet I still saw things I would have changed. Maybe a better choice of phrase would have been to say I would have written it DIFFERENTLY, not “better.” At any rate, the point is, there is no doubt I am a severe, exacting, and harsh critic, whether of my own work or someone else’s. But ESPECIALLY of my own work.

Which is why, until now, I’ve avoided submitting a single thing to any publication. No matter how much effort I’ve put into guiding my message to perfection, I always think it could use just a little more revision. And because I work so hard at creating, nurturing, and revising what I write, my literary creations become almost child-like to me. And I’m afraid to give birth to them. I am terrified of sending that fragile, tiny, innocent bundle of thoughts and feelings out into the world, kicking and screaming, naked for all humankind to examine.

And like any mother, I want my baby to be perfect beyond compare. I want to protect it from the terrible things that could happen once it arrives in the world and takes on a life of its own. Horrifying things-- like having a fellow writer or a cold-hearted and ruthless critic shred it to pieces. And that’s the biggest obstacle that's been holding me back. Plain and simple FEAR. The fear that fruit of my labors isn’t good enough, or might be viewed as inadequate, possibly criticized, rejected, scorned, or disapproved of.

Writing this blog has been an amazing process in helping me overcome that anxiety. I haven’t completely conquered my fears. But with each post I write, I'm building courage and gaining confidence, even as I share my thoughts and feelings with the world  for anybody to dissect or destroy.  Yes, I’ve received a little negativity. And I've had a few people who don’t “get” me (dear hubby is probably number one on that list!). But it didn’t hurt nearly as bad as I was afraid it might, and I survived.  OMG, I’m Gloria Gaynor, and I WILL SURVIVE!

But more importantly, I have received an amazing and overwhelming amount of encouragement, advice, and positivity, and I am incredibly grateful for that. You, my friends and readers, are helping me move towards my goals by leaps and bounds! I admit there are still days that I have to swallow my panic and force myself to hit the “publish” button on my blog page. And when I do, my inner voice is still screaming “OH MY GOD, NOOOOO! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!”  But those days are getting fewer and farther between.  And someday soon, I hope I will be sharing a link with you to MY first published article.  And my writer friend will get the first shot at publicly and mercilessly shredding it. I promise you that.

I want to leave you today with a quote that has been all over the news feeds after Nelson Mandela’s death last night.  It couldn’t have been more appropriate for me at this point. He said, “I learned that courage was not the absence of fear, but the triumph over it. The brave man is not he who does not feel afraid, but he who conquers that fear.” RIP, Madiba