Let’s Talk Writing and Fear

Because let’s face it, there’s a crapload out there to be fearful of when it comes to writing:

Failure

Success

The success or failure of other writers

Falling behind the curve or being way ahead of it

Writing great stories

Writing craptastic stories

What are other writers saying

What if other writers aren’t saying anything at all

Doing it right or doing it wrong

Being different

Being the same

And there are countless more fears… We all share some level of the same fears, but we also share some level of more personal ones. None of it feels good. Fear can motivate and fear can paralyze.

I’ve talked about fear some this year, and it would seem that while I thought maybe I’d admitted most of my fears, it turns out I was wrong.

BEARINGTHEINKFINAL-USA150I promised a book by the end of October and I didn’t deliver. Then I promised it by the end of the year and I didn’t deliver. I then promised it by the first week of February and still nada. So, while I’ve been working on this book, I’ve not finished it. And part of the reason for that, is fear. I’m scared.

Are you wondering why?

When I started working in the Southern Shifter Kindle World, I had only planned one book, Ink To Bear. Then, I was asked if I’d write another one. I said yes and added on to Gus and Bex’s story with Inked By The Bear, which ended in a bit of a cliffhanger. I didn’t want to leave it for long, but I did have other commitments to finish at the time, and I worked on it. Real life bit me in the ass HARD and I lost all sense of time beyond exhaustion; mental, physical, and emotional. I didn’t have anything else in me. I had no creative spark. I’d sit down to write and end up going to bed instead. I looked to all the things going on and I just couldn’t do it.

Now, when I was writing Inked By The Bear, and hearing a lot of other voices in my head, I got a wild idea to connect all myInkToBearFinalUpdate-USA150 bear worlds into one big conspiracy. I drew no frills diagram on my whiteboard. I started playing with how to connect things in my brain. It consumed me and I was ready to spend the next few months on this.

Then life happened. Then the holidays happened. Then deep thinking happened. Then new directions happened.

And in the midst of all that, fear happened. What the hell was I thinking? I couldn’t connect different worlds like that. I couldn’t pull off something that big. I didn’t and don’t like reading things that intricately woven together, how on Earth was I going to write something so intricately woven together? I wasn’t a paranormal romance author. I don’t watch all the paranormal shows. I don’t read all the paranormal romance books. What the hell was I thinking? I didn’t and don’t have people I can turn to and ask for help in plotting such a massive over-arching storyline.

Those were just some of my thoughts. There were others. The point being, Bearing The Ink isn’t finished and part of it is because of fear. Fear that I wouldn’t measure up. Fear that I would fuck it up. Fear that I would tank more than I usually do. Fear that other writers would laugh and mock. Fear that they wouldn’t even notice. Fear that readers would hate it. Fear that I would hate it. Fear that I would fail. The thought of succeeding never entered my mind so I couldn’t be fearful of it. I was and am very scared and it paralyzed me.

INKEDBYTHEBEAR-USA150Paralyzed. Past tense.

I’m still fearful. In fact, I’m scared shitless. But I’ve been scared shitless since the beginning of the 2016. I’m writing contemporary in a new voice and trying new things. I’m looking at marketing a little differently. I’ve walked away from a couple of projects. And I’ve begun working hard on Bearing The Ink again. All of it scares me. Every bit of it. The fear of screwing up, of making a fool of myself, of failing freaks me the fuck out and I truly want to go crawl into a hole. But, I’m not going to. I’m going to do this, no matter what. I’m going to deliver the book. I’m going to continue writing. I’m going to figure it out.

And if you’re along for the ride, hold on.

If you’re waiting for Bearing the Ink, please hold on just a little longer. You won’t be disappointed.

~lissa

Temptation Tuesday – Werebears Anyone?

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I’m in the process of writing a second Southern Shifters novella for Eliza Gayle’s Southern Shifters Kindle World. I don’t usually drop everything else, or push other things back in order to work unexpected stories in, but this werebear did better than any other paranormal I’ve written, so while it was still doing fairly well, I figured I’d give in to the urging of readers, and Eliza, and The Blackraven, and try to get one out…

September 17th will be the next one… That’s right around the corner. Next week. ACK!

Did you read the first one? Ink To Bear? Here’s a little snippet for you, if you didn’t…

InkToBearKindleWorlds-200Bex shifted her weight from one foot to the other. Her orange canvas sneakers were bright in the pre-dawn light compared to her companion’s black motorcycle boots, the same one’s he’d been wearing the day before. His shirt had changed from black to a deep, dark espresso brown. The pair of jeans he wore were loose on his hips and threadbare. She wanted to lick him up and down and she wished she looked even a fraction as sexy as he did in jeans and t-shirt.

That’s all she’d brought with her to Bryson City, but hers didn’t do the justice for her body the way his did. She traveled light and hadn’t brought anything fit for riding a motorcycle while wrapped around Gus.
Wrapped around…

She probably shouldn’t let her mind travel down that particular road either. She’d wanted him so much just a few hours ago and when he’d teased her, but said it wasn’t the right time… No. She wasn’t going there at the moment. There were more pressing things she needed to focus on.

Like the fact her life was changing rapidly. So much so, she hadn’t had a chance to catch her breath. Maybe she didn’t want to. Maybe she didn’t want to stop and think about what she was doing. If she did —

“You seem nervous,” Gus remarked, interrupting her thoughts. She was grateful.

“You’re observant.” It was apparent she was also a smartass.

“Prickly, too.” His offhand remark did exactly what he knew it would; make her smile, in spite of herself.
“Are you sure I’m going to fit? There doesn’t seem to be room for me,” she said. Midnight blue fenders. Handlebars that were low in the middle like a U and wide at the top. Bags on the side that weren’t leather like those she’d seen on other motorcycles. No, these were hard plastic or something. She didn’t know anything really about motorcycles, not enough to be able to distinguish one from another other than cosmetic differences.
Gus’s was beautiful. All shiny chrome, black leather, and that shade of blue that would match the sky just as it shifted to black.

The dashboard… Was that what it was? Like in a car? The speedometer and other gauges looked old fashioned and fit the bike, but if she knew Gus, they were probably more high tech than what they seemed at face value.
She was consistently surprised by him.

“You’ll fit.” It was all he said as he attached a small seat to the back of the bike, bringing her back to the conversation. She’d been so lost in looking at the bike, that she’d almost forgotten her concerns. He turned toward her, a helmet in his hand.

“You came prepared.”

“You never know when there might be a damsel in need of assistance.”

She smirked and took the headgear. “Run into a lot of those, do ya?”

“Not one I’ve ever used the seat and helmet for.”

“I should consider myself special, then?”

“Without a doubt, pretty girl.”

Bex smiled at the endearment. She settled the helmet on her head and fumbled with the strap beneath her chin until she got it snug enough to not fly off. “Good thing I’m not vain enough to worry about having helmet head.”

“No one would care anyway.”

She scrunched her face in displeasure. “That’s not nice.”

“Not what I meant, but if it makes you feel better, I care. I care so much I’ll probably be unable to look at you after you remove the helmet. Happy?”

Bex did her best to keep from laughing, but her best wasn’t good enough. “You’re a jerk,” she said, in the midst of her laugh and shoved at his shoulder.

“Nah. Just a shifter trying to make you happy.”

Now, you should go grab the book, if you hadn’t before, so you’ll be ready to read the next one next week!

Buy Now!

~lissa