THIS MIGHT NOT WORK
The Writer’s Worst Fear
This fear is devastating. When it hits we either succumb to it (as most do) or we realize the truth and use it to our advantage.
Indeed, the fear is real and it can kill your next project almost instantly. In fact, when you think about it, you will realize it’s already caused you to quit several times, even before you started.
This Might Not Work
It’s not an illusion. It’s not a shadow. It’s not a figment of your imagination. It’s the most valid fear we have.
That pile of clothes in your corner chair which looks like the boogeyman at 3 am is still just a pile of clothes, but the fear of your next endeavor not working is real and the fact that it might not work means exactly that:
It. Might. Not. Work.
What if I write this book and no one cares? What if the one person who reads it laughs at me and calls me a phony? What if there’s a typo in it and I lose all credibility?
It is the ultimate fear for any artist because it can cause you to quit before you start and effectively keep your talents sheathed and hidden from the world, especially now when we need them so desperately in these strange times.
What if no one comes to the concert? What if no one comes to our opening night at the gallery? What if no one purchases a copy of my latest book (ever)? What if this embarrasses me?
Frankly, my friend, it might not work. There’s no magic formula, no special pill, and no guarantees of any kind anyone can give you that what you’re doing will work.
And that’s okay. That’s the edge. That’s where the real art is created, in the nether between not creating and no one caring and creating, and still, no one caring.
This is an opportunity. It provides clarity. Your art is first and foremost for you.
Art is, as it should be, personal.
Since it might not work you might as well create the art you were called to create. If the masses love it, great. But the goal, and the only goal, should be to create work that matters to you. Make it personal.
Art should never be about the bottom line. It should never be about pleasing the mainstream viewers, listeners, and purchasers. Not if it’s really and truly, art. This isn’t to say it won’t do those things, but should it be intended to? That’s the question, and if we answer yes, the stakes go up and the odds increase that it won’t work.
Art has always been about creating on the edges, out on the fringes, creating something that matters to the artist first.
It doesn’t have to work.
If working means pleasing everyone, hitting the NYT’s bestseller list or making the top 100 billboard charts.
The fear that it won’t work is a good fear to have because that means you are creating art you care about and not some replica you hope to pawn.
Choose to be yourself.
If no one else gets it that’s their loss. Do it anyway. By its very definition art is something new and unique, something others might love, hate or ignore.
Art doesn’t give us guarantees, nor do we deserve them. Art needs you to fear the fear of failure, it needs you to take risks, it needs you to do it from your heart, and in the end, art in of itself matters because it simply is.
The only way to reach new heights is to risk slipping off the edge and falling. The fear of failure is real. Use it to your advantage, because it’s letting you know that you have nothing to lose.
Fear is the most powerful stimulant when used to create, it can direct you to find purpose and help you focus like a laser, or it can cause you to give up. The choice is yours. It’s always yours. That’s the edge, and the edge is serious.
Get serious.
Once we do this, we unsheathe our talents and create the art we are called to create.
It’s your turn.
Lead us. Show us the way.
Whether your art delights or is snubbed, it’s the creating that matters. That is what is being lost in today’s world of smile-every-minute-social-media posts. Don’t let imperfection and lack of guarantees cause you to quit.
If you fail, there will be those who will snicker and laugh, but you and I, and many other warriors of the pen, we will know the truth, that you unsheathed your creative talents and danced with fear in the pale moonlight.
And you know what? Tomorrow’s efforts will benefit as you write more and more, practicing your art. So, please, whatever you do, don’t quit.
Read More: Serious Writers Never Quit
Originally published at http://positivewriter.com.