Afeared of Writing

Yep, I'm a little afeared of writing.

A little.

Afeared of being rejected. But then. Not really.

I sold life insurance once. I'm tough. Of course, that gig didn't last long.

But I do get enough feedback to think I don't totally stink.

Afeared of being accepted and how that would affect the simpler life I long for.

Afeared I won't make enough money to keep me from going back to "work," even though I do have a supportive "sugar daddy."

Afeared that I will lose interest with anything longer than a blog post.

Afeared that I will start what I don't finish.

The woman of fizzling interests.

Afeared that I will spend too much time writing and ignore other important things. It's already happening.

Afeared  that I will run out of time to sing all my songs now that I've entered my "golden years."

Afeared that I will share too much of my WIP, and it will lose its magic or (GASP!) get stolen.

Right!

Afeared that I won't share enough of my WIP.

Cuz I need help! Big time!

I'm not afraid of nonfiction.  Devotionals. It's easy for me to behold God in the mundane. It's easy for me to tie spiritual meanings to earthly things. I can weave thought rags into colorful word rugs.

At least I think so.

Someone else may disagree.

I'm not afraid to "write naked." In fact, my family probably wishes I wasn't so "bare."

But I'm afraid if I become too well known (HAHAHAHAHA!), skeletons shoved in the closet depths will tumble out before their bones are dry.

It's why I would never let hubby run for public office.

Yep, I'm cool when it comes to nonfiction.

I think when it comes to fiction, though, I'm afraid to let my imagination loose. Afraid of loosing control. Afraid of where it might carry me. I've frisked those thoughts so many times, tied them up in the corral, took away their grain, let them languish in the shadows.

I might be a little afraid that others will talk amongst themselves. What DOES go on in her mind? Where does she come UP with this stuff?

Although I s'pose that can be a good thing.

So I'm cracking the stall door. Praying that the Creator of creative thoughts will guide my thoughts within His creative boundaries. That my story and character arcs will reach for Him, bow toward Him, and find hope and redemption in Him. That the pot of gold at the end of every story will reflect Him.

Nope. I ain't afeared.

What are you afraid of?