Fear

I have been thinking a great deal about fear over the past few days. Fear and how it affects your life and your writing. I think this is true for any art, but I am a writer, so that’s how I’m going to frame this.

If you are going to succeed at writing you are going to write a certain amount of crap. You will write sentences that clunk and scenes that will later embarrass you. Some of your mistakes are likely to get published, preserved forever in amber where others will be able to see your failures and point and laugh. If you are especially lucky, people will still be mocking your mistakes long after they bury you.

You cannot let the fear of that stop you. Fear will kill your hopes deader than any horrible sentence or purple paragraph or complete failure. Fear keeps you from trying, and not trying means never succeeding. You cannot win if you don’t get in the game.

It’s hard, I know. I’ve been there. I was recently described as fearless by an old friend, which is part of what got me thinking about this.* That may be how it looks from the outside, but it’s not quite true. I have been afraid many times, both in this business and in my daily life. I am not fearless.

What I am is brutally brutally stubborn. I refuse to let fear stop me from doing what I want to do. I attempt things knowing that I will fail some of the time and that it will hurt.

Physically, I fear the bruises and cuts and burns that come with attempting hard things in the real world, but I won’t let that stop me from working my body or climbing a mountain or building and welding. In writing, I fear looking like a hack or a fool or a wannabe.

I fear these things, but I will not let that stop me. I have the scars and the awful reviews to prove it. But, what I also have is things that I have built, a body that is fit, books and stories that I am proud of. I have good reviews to go along with the bad and the respect of some of my peers.

I would have none of that if I let the fear stop me from trying. If I let the fear stop me from failing. If I let the fear stop me from succeeding.

Fear is the enemy. Don’t let it be the victor too.

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*Thanks Tim! I wouldn’t have written this without that post.

Friday Cat Blogging on Monday

It’s not late, it’s a SPECIAL EDITION!

Dude, shut up, I’m sunning myself here. About damn time you got rid of the snow.

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Ayep, sunning myself because: PORCH

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This had been here the whole time, hasn’t it? You’ve been hiding summer from me!

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Why are you all out in the big blue room?

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Yeah, what’s up with that?

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Writing Environment: Minimum Conditions

What I need to be able to write:*

1) 10-12 square feet to myself.
2) A comfortable seat and someplace to put my feet up. Not sure why the feet being up matters so much, but it does. I find it almost impossible to work at a desk or table. Comfortable didn’t used to matter as much, but my back isn’t as forgiving as it was when I was thirty.
3) Relative quiet. White noise or instrumental music is fine, but lyrics or interesting conversation kill me dead.
4) 1-1/2 or more hours when I know I can just write.

Those are the necessities. It also helps if I have:

A) Power, though the longer battery life on each new laptop has made that less of an issue.
B) Caffeine readily available, tea or diet soda by preference, something that I can sip when I pause to think.
C) A nice view, preferably of green space or nature, though a college campus is fine to. A little bit of visual distraction that I can watch but don’t have to.

That’s really about it.

*This came up in comments in response to Samaire Provost on a facebook post and I thought some of the folks who wander by the blog might find it interesting.

Friday Cat Blogging

Do you know what I want?

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That!*

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That’d be awesome!

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Yeah, well I want to be an editor. This red pen is delicious!

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I want you all to go away and let me sleep in the sun.

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Seconded!

 

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Thirded! For once the cats have a good idea.

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*Matt Kuchta has been channeling the cats again…

Friday Cat Blogging

Nip, it’s entirely covered with NIP!

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Is it? I hadn’t notic—is that my paw?

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OH WOW

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Oh my dog, have you tried this stuff? Are you kidding, I AM this stuff.

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Nip, you say? It does smell like it.

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Maybe Ima take a little nip nap now…

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I have no nip and I cannot stone…

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Friday Cat Blogging

WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?

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This?

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Yes, THAT!

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Oh, Laura’s Shade is a jellyfiss…

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I knew that. Castle Gaiman cats can all see true shadows.

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What’s that down there?

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Shiny BEADS and TRINKETS!

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Retro Friday Cat Blogging

The committee for feline domination takes a meeting

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I will killz teh chipmunk with mah mind

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I needs mah beauty sleep

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Well, I needs mah cutie sleep, so there

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Waz otter in previous life, sometimes has flashbacks

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What? Dis da gluten free shelf, right? I’z 100 percent gluten free

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(Originally published on the Wyrdsmiths blog June 26 2009, and original comments may be found there. Reposted and reedited as part of the reblogging project)

Time To Publication

John Scalzi is talking about why debut novelists are so often so much older than debut musicians or actors. I commented over there with my own timeline and it seemed worth noting it here too. Please feel free to post your own both here and there.

My novel publishing timeline:

1967 – 1991: Time spent learning to write well enough to write a novel (ages 0—26).

1991: Wrote first complete novel (age 26)

1992–1993: Wrote two more novels, one of which is possibly publishable with rewrite (28)

1993-1998: Wrote a bunch of short stories while trying to sell all three initial novels (31)

1999: Started selling shorts and returned to novels, writing the book that would ultimately sell first (32)

2000: Got agent who started marketing novel (33)

2000-2005: Wrote three more novels, all still looking for publishers (38)

2005: Contract signed for that debut novel (38)

2006: Debut novel published (39)

(Originally published on the Wyrdsmiths blog June 24 2009, and original comments may be found there. Reposted and reedited as part of the reblogging project)

Chocobo/Kodachrome

To the tune of KODACHROME, and with apologies to Paul Simon, Art Garfunkel, and Square Enix, I present, CHOCOBO:

When I think back
On all the flans I killed while grinding
It’s a wonder
I leveled up at all
Even though my lack of magic
Has really hurt me
I can ride that bird on down the trail

Chocobo
You’ve got those nice bright feathers
You’re made of the golds of autumn
Makes me think all the world’s a racing day, kwe-eh!
I got me some gysahl greens
I love to ride that crazy bird
So Mama don’t take my chocobo away

If you took all the potions I used
When I was hurting
And poured them together in one pot
I know they’d never bring back
My missing moogle
And everything look worse with eight bit graphics

Chocobo
He’s got those nice bright feathers
That remind us of the golds of autumn
Makes me think all the world’s a racing day, kwe-eh!
I got me some gy-sahl greens
I love to ride that crazy bird
So Mama don’t take my chocobo away

Mama don’t my chocobo awaaaay!

Mama don’t my chocobo awaaaay!

Mama don’t my chocobo awaaaay!

Mama don’t take my chocobo
Mama don’t take my chocobo
Mama don’t my chocobo awaaaay!

Mama don’t take my chocobo
Mama don’t take my chocobo
Mama don’t my chocobo awaaaay!

Mama don’t take my chocobo
(Leave your bird so far from home)
Mama don’t my chocobo awaaaay!

Retro Friday Cat Blogging

Blob cat is blobing

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It is the east and Juliet the sun.

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Gaming cats atop their custom chair rig

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Helpy cat helpying to make the bed

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Lazer cat is in ur closet fryin ur shirtz

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(Originally published on the Wyrdsmiths blog June 19 2009, and original comments may be found there. Reposted and reedited as part of the reblogging project)