I still remember when I came up with the idea for the book I’m currently getting ready to submit to agents. Oliver’s story came to me with a brilliance that both excited and terrified me. The central concept felt special, unique. Yet alongside that excitement came a wave of doubt. What if I couldn’t do justice to this idea? After years of writing non-fiction, did I even have the skills to craft the story properly?
The Double-Edged Sword of a Great Idea
Having what feels like a truly exceptional idea creates its own unique pressure. I found myself paralyzed not by a lack of inspiration but by too much of it. The story concept seemed so promising that I became afraid of ruining it with my execution.
My biggest fear was painfully specific. I imagined writing the book, failing miserably, then watching someone else publish something similar to great acclaim. The thought of becoming the cautionary tale of “what could have been” kept me from taking the first step.
After speaking to some of my writer friends, I discovered that this fear is something that the majority of them have shared. Many writers feel an enormous responsibility toward their best ideas. We want to honor them with our finest work, but that desire can become the very thing that prevents us from writing at all.
The Mirror Moment
The turning point came during a conversation with my daughter, who is also an aspiring author. She confided her worries about starting her own project, expressing doubts nearly identical to mine. I heard myself giving her thoughtful advice about courage and persistence. The words flowed easily until I realized the glaring contradiction: I wasn’t following any of this wisdom myself.
Sometimes we know exactly what we need to hear. We just need someone else to create the circumstances where we can hear ourselves say it. My daughter unknowingly provided that mirror, reflecting back the gap between what I believed and what I practiced.
Facing the “What Ifs”
I decided to confront my fears directly. What was the worst that could happen if I wrote this book? I might spend months creating something that never found publication. I might discover limitations in my fiction-writing abilities. These outcomes weren’t pleasant to consider, but they weren’t catastrophic either.
“Twenty years from now, you will be more disappointed by the things you didn’t do than by the ones you did do.” This quote, often misattributed to Mark Twain but actually written by H. Jackson Brown, Jr., shifted my perspective. The regret of never trying seemed suddenly more painful than any potential failure.
Risk in creative work isn’t just about the possibility of failure; it’s also about the potential for success. It’s also insurance against the certainty of regret. I realized I wasn’t willing to wonder forever what might have happened if I’d tried.
Building a Foundation for Success
Once I committed to moving forward, I approached the project methodically. I immersed myself in middle-grade literature, reading widely across the category. This wasn’t just about market research. It was about understanding the conversation I wanted to join.
Joining SCBWI connected me with other children’s book writers who understood the specific challenges of this format. Their encouragement reminded me that everyone starts somewhere, and community can make the difference between abandoning a project and persevering.
Preparation didn’t eliminate my fear, but it made it manageable. Each step forward built confidence for the next one.
Advice to My Hesitant Self
If I could speak to my earlier hesitant self, I would say this: Discomfort isn’t a warning sign to stop; it’s evidence you’re growing. The uncomfortable space is where the magic happens.
Every author you admire once sat where you’re sitting now. They all faced the blank page with uncertainty. What separates published authors from aspiring ones isn’t talent alone but the willingness to continue despite doubt.
The path to creating something meaningful is not always comfortable. It shouldn’t be. The discomfort is part of the process, not a sign you’re doing it wrong.
The Unexpected Gift of Beginning “Late”
I sometimes think about how I could have been writing fiction years ago. Those thoughts initially brought regret, but I’ve come to see my journey differently. Everything I’ve experienced gives me something unique to bring to my fiction.
The perspective I’ve gained over the years enriches my storytelling in ways that wouldn’t have been possible earlier. There’s no such thing as “too late” in creative work. There’s only the perfect time for you, with the experiences you bring.
I’m looking forward now, not back. The future holds possibilities I can only discover by moving toward them.
A Continuing Journey Facing My Fear of Failure
Fear doesn’t disappear when you decide to face it. It transforms. Some days it whispers, some days it shouts. I still have to make the decision each time not to let it control what I create.
I’d love to hear from you. What creative idea scares you because it matters so much? How are you working through it? Perhaps we can find courage in sharing our journeys.