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Get It Out
Posting here just to get this out despite knowing pretty much no one still reads anything I put here.
I finished my story. As in my Story. The one that’s been in my head for literally 20 years, but out on hold while I did pesky things like feed my family and work for a living. Roughly 80K words for the first in what is a series in my own head. So many changes made throughout this time, both in my writing style and in issues like internalized misogyny and representation, but one thing remains: I fucking love my characters.
It’s because I love them so much that I’m afraid to go any further with this. Even if I knew how to submit to a publisher, to hear them say they hate it or even just hate one of my faves would kill me a little inside. It’s not perfect, it’s not for everyone, but it’s what I was capable of doing mixed with what I originally wanted.
Then there’s another fear. What if I go through the whole painful process to get it out into the world, and the world hates it? People who have read or heard tidbits about it tend to like it, but what if they are the exception and not the norm? What if it’s mocked or flogged or, as what happened to so many of my stories when I first started writing, what if someone steals large swaths of it and rubs it in my face when their version is successful and I fail?
Yes, these are a lot of what-if’s, but this is how my mind works. Over the past 20 years, I think I’ve grown as a writer, but I’ve also grown as a person with a fuck ton of anxiety. My mind tends to go to every possibility of failure and plan for it, even when I know it’s holding me back. I don’t know how to sell my work, or myself, enough to wave a flag and get people’s attention to give it a shot. I never have and it’s an uncomfortable concept to me. That said, it’s a necessity if I’m even going to try to get this sucker out there and I don’t know if that’s something I can do.
Anyway, I have rambled. Home during a day off with a snowstorm blowing outside and my kid curled up on the couch with all the pets, my mind needed to get at least some of this out. Thank you if you have read any of this at all.
I finished my story. As in my Story. The one that’s been in my head for literally 20 years, but out on hold while I did pesky things like feed my family and work for a living. Roughly 80K words for the first in what is a series in my own head. So many changes made throughout this time, both in my writing style and in issues like internalized misogyny and representation, but one thing remains: I fucking love my characters.
It’s because I love them so much that I’m afraid to go any further with this. Even if I knew how to submit to a publisher, to hear them say they hate it or even just hate one of my faves would kill me a little inside. It’s not perfect, it’s not for everyone, but it’s what I was capable of doing mixed with what I originally wanted.
Then there’s another fear. What if I go through the whole painful process to get it out into the world, and the world hates it? People who have read or heard tidbits about it tend to like it, but what if they are the exception and not the norm? What if it’s mocked or flogged or, as what happened to so many of my stories when I first started writing, what if someone steals large swaths of it and rubs it in my face when their version is successful and I fail?
Yes, these are a lot of what-if’s, but this is how my mind works. Over the past 20 years, I think I’ve grown as a writer, but I’ve also grown as a person with a fuck ton of anxiety. My mind tends to go to every possibility of failure and plan for it, even when I know it’s holding me back. I don’t know how to sell my work, or myself, enough to wave a flag and get people’s attention to give it a shot. I never have and it’s an uncomfortable concept to me. That said, it’s a necessity if I’m even going to try to get this sucker out there and I don’t know if that’s something I can do.
Anyway, I have rambled. Home during a day off with a snowstorm blowing outside and my kid curled up on the couch with all the pets, my mind needed to get at least some of this out. Thank you if you have read any of this at all.
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That's such an amazing achievement in itself, finishing a story you've been working on for so long! I'm sure the story is awesome, with all the love and work you put in it.
When I was in my late teens, an older friend of mine told me that "a writer" is someone who writes something at least one other person reads and likes. And that if you need justification for writing something (I did need it), then one person liking it makes it worthwhile. It stuck with me, and I keep reminding myself that whenever my fics (I know it might not be the same with published novels, but that's all I write for now) get less attention, or not the kind of attention I wanted.
You can't make everyone happy; someone's definitely going to hate it. Some people are just mean and hate everything. But you didn't write it to please the haters, you wrote it to tell the story to the people who are enough like you to enjoy the story. Even if there's just one such person and everyone else hates it (which I'm sure won't happen, no way), it's still worth it. Though I definitely can see how that's not much of a consolation right now, when there's nothing but plans, fears and anxiety. But then again, there's a very good chance most people will love it, and the haters will be an angry envious minority :)