Today I am happy to be a part of the blogging world so I can bring you the beautiful guest blogger…Beth Teliho. Read her words, and be fearless…
I have a confession. Sometimes I’m scared shitless. SHIT. LESS.
I have a fiction novel publishing in a few months. The thought of that shoots ice-cold terror through my veins.
My blog was easy because even though it’s under my real name, no one knows about it except for my closest friends. Nope, not even my mother. Nor does anyone know about any of my social media accounts. I was able to build everything with total autonomy. If I failed at this writing thing, who cares? No one would know.
When I publish the book, I intend to tell my family because writing is important to me and I want them to know what I’ve accomplished. They will most certainly find out about my blog, and that’s fine. I stand by every word. But will it change how I blog moving forward? If I know my mom and aunts and uncles and cousins and my kid’s teacher and the lady who does my hair (i.e. people I have to look in the eye) *might* read it, am I still going to be authentic? Will I remain the sweary, honest, sometimes thought provoking, often inappropriate, eclectic-no-niche blogger that I am?
My fear is that it will filter me. And not just on the blog. I fear it will filter my fiction writing. Ever write a sex scene and then imagine your dad, or an aunt, or a sibling reading it? *hurl*
Yeah. Don’t do that. I received great advice from a professor once: write as if no one will ever read it.
Seems easy enough. So why am I choking? I haven’t even published yet and I’m suffocating in self-doubt….
What if what if what if. What if the book sucks, fails, disappoints? What if what if what if.
A few nights ago, I was up until 4:00am, heart pounding, seriously considering quitting everything I’ve worked for. I fantasized about disappearing. Closing all my accounts: my blog, Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest, Instagram…every one, and then I could just fade into the background where I’m invisible. Safe.
Then I thought, no, I’ll keep the blog and publish the book under a pseudonym.
But isn’t that what I’ve always done? Avoid the spotlight. Quit before I can be judged, compared, ridiculed or humiliated. Hide.
The next morning, with a fresh head and some perspective, I realized I’m the only one comparing and judging me. All these anxious feelings are based on fear of failure, and ultimately being insecure of who I am, and for that reason alone – if nothing else – I should do the exact opposite of what my fear is telling me to do.
I SHOULD LEAP WITH PURE ABANDON
The only way I can fail and disappoint now is if I let the fear win.
An author friend of mine said, “You’ll never experience your first book again. Have fun with it. This should be exciting!”
She’s so right. I’m incredibly fortunate to have found what I love and be able to do it. I’M A WRITER. Holy shit. That’s INSANECRAZYBEAUTIFUL.
Everyone fears vulnerability. Artists are no exception. What matters is how you react to it, so here’s how I’ll be handling fear from now on:
I’m going to let myself feel it. ONCE. Because those feelings are real and valid.
I’m gonna scream at it like I’m fucking Eminem.
I will kick that bitch out of my party.
I will dare it to stop me.
Spit in its face.
Stomp on it.
I’m going to own who I am and NEVER apologize for it.
I will feel the fear and do it anyway.
You think I will leap? Hell no.
I WILL FLY
Beth is a day-dreaming introvert who managed to acquire an amazing husband with whom she created two loud, adventurous sons. She’s a writer, artist and recovering crazy cat lady who probably doesn’t day drink at all. Her NA Paranormal/Urban Fantasy, ORDER OF SEVEN, releases spring, 2015. All the other random shiz in her brain gets unleashed on her blog, Writer B is Me, where you’re guaranteed to leave with a smile. She also proudly writes for Sisterwives Speak, where she’s a founding member and co-creator.
You can connect with Beth here:
Pinterest: www.pinterest.com/bethteliho (be sure to check out her most popular board, “Who Put This Board Here?”)
Beth would share her Google + link, but she still doesn’t understand it.