• Choose a category
• All
• Classic-Fiction

Plan... write... then fix. Keep the phases separate as much as possible. And don't beat up on yourself during any phase.

Recognize this: part of growing up as a fiction writer is the ultimate recognition that all of us are scared—of looking dumb, of running out of ideas, of never selling our copy, of not getting noticed. We fiction writers make a business of being scared, and not just of looking dumb. Some of these fears may never go away, and we may just have to learn to live with them. The fear of looking dumb, though, can be tossed away once you've recognized it as the jealous yammering of a left hemisphere critic who's tired of being forced to sit silent in the corner while the right side plays.

You'll still get the thought that it's dumb, sometimes. And you'll still be scared, worried about embarrassment. But maybe now you see that the only really dumb thing is to think it's dumb.

Finally, look at the other side of the question. Your plight could be infinitely worse. You could be one of that small, truly doomed minority who thinks every word they write is precious, every idea immortal, every character a demigod, every plot a classic. They never think anything they write is dumb. So they never self-criticize even at the times they should, never listen to advice, never study published writers, and spend all their emotional energy defending the rocky turf of their enormous ego. You know the type I mean; you undoubtedly know one of them. Mention a problem you see in one of their stories and they say you just don't understand. Suggest changing so much as a punctuation mark on their page and they go crazy: "Don't change my copy! My copy is perfect! To change a word of this" (slapping the page with the back of her hand) "would be a violation of my artistic inspiration and integrity! "

These are the folks who really should be worrying, because if they won't listen and be open, they can't grow. And if they can't grow, they've had it.

So maybe you now see why your worries about "being dumb" aren't nearly as bad as other things that could be messing you up. All you've got to do, after all, is stop it.

So stop it.

28. DON'T WORRY WHAT MOTHER WILL THINK

IN THE LAST CHAPTER WE POINTED out how unhealthy frightened self-criticism can be for the fiction writer. Closely related to this kind of worried hang-up is concern about what other people might think of the writer once her story is published.

Usually the feared future critic is mother. Sometimes it's a husband or wife, a child, or even a dear friend. (I spent some time during the early years of my writing career worrying what a sainted aunt would think.)

Such worries are normal, but you must not let them hamstring your creative efforts. If you can't entirely banish such worry from your mind, then consider adopting a pen name. For you have plenty of other things to worry about, and frightened self-censorship simply has to be jettisoned at once.

Of course you want to be bound by the dictates of good sense and good taste. But these are a far cry from groundless worries about a stern and unforgiving moral arbiter. One of the great joys of writing fiction is that you are free. You must believe this and act like it You must never, ever allow yourself to get hung up on fears of what some family member or friend might think on a personal level.

29. DON'T HIDE FROM YOUR FEELINGS

CLOSELY RELATED TO FRIGHTENED self-criticism and worry about family or friends is a more subtle fear that some writers carry to their work without ever realizing it. That is the fear of strong emotional feelings. I have met several enormously talented students who never sold their stories because their copy was devoid of real emotion; these writers feared strong feelings in real life and simply couldn't face such feelings in their writing.

If you want to succeed as a writer of fiction, you must never hide from your own feelings because they provide for you your most essential contact with your story characters—and potential readers.

Now,