Today I was sitting in one of my three writing classes and all I could think about was my own book. This is not unusual as most times during the day I find myself thinking of something from the world I have created. But today, my thoughts drifted toward a place of wishing that I could share my book with my writing peers.
Alas, there comes the age old fear that my book is not good enough and by instant correlation, that would mean I am not good enough as a writer.
In an email sent by a fellow student whose work I had to respond to today, she said she felt like the underdog of the class, like her writing was not good enough. Now I would not include such admissions in the emails of my work, but it seems there is this underlying fear in all of us. And if this is true, when does this fear ever go away? Does this fear ever go away? Am I going against the grain by saying that I have these secret fears, or am I like the majority of writers who toil away over a piece of their work, worrying that all the sleepless nights have in fact, equated to nothing?
I hate these questions.
Usually, I am all about questions. Wondering has been the driving force behind not only the Falling series, but my other writing as well. Somehow, my ability in crafting this book has been in posing questions for myself, and then finding the answers I needed to continue on with the story. And yet, I have these other questions and there doesn't seem to be any real answers. I have looked at advice for writers on Veronica Roth's blog, Ellen Hopkins' website, and countless other authors that I admire and yet, no one experience is the same, and perhaps it is in this that I can find some comfort.
Granted, I have finished the book, but it took close to two and a half years to actually write it. That isn't even counting the three rounds of revisions I have finished, nor the countless other nights that will be spent to make my first book into something that I deem perfect. I know that eventually my fear will have to fade. I guess I hope that by admitting the fact that I am somewhat scared of what people will think of this, perhaps I can throw this to the wind like a red balloon and watch it float higher and higher until it is out of sight, out of mind.
