Julie Lavender

What's Your Biggest Writing Fear? 
by Julie Lavender

(This post first appeared on The Write Conversation, a wonderful blog site that has a plethora of writing tips and encouragement every week. Check out the site here for the article below in its entirety, and look for other great posts by fellow writers while you're there.) 

What’s your biggest writing fear? 

• Fear of rejection?
• Fear of not finishing the job?
• Fear of not being good enough?

My mind fought with all three recently, and more, when I faced several deadlines on newspaper work that I didn’t seem to have enough hours in the day to complete, worked to finish a proposal to send in to my agent, and muddled through postings for a social media campaign to help promote my upcoming book release.

And then, the evil one came knocking at the door …. LITERALLY. 

I plucked away at the computer in my favorite den rocking chair, just four steps across the foyer from the front door. When I heard a loud sound that sounded like a cross between a knock on the wooden door and the delivery guy dropping a package on the front porch, I was surprised that neither the golden retriever nor Pomeranian at my feet seemed to acknowledge the sound. 

Placing the computer on the tray, I stood up and could see out the dining room window as I walked to the door. “That’s odd,” I thought when I didn’t see a vehicle backing out of the driveway. 

I peered out the window, craning my neck towards the floor in front of the door to locate a package. The frosted pane on the front door doesn’t allow the same view. 

Noticing nothing, I almost returned to my chair, and then thought perhaps the stray cat was responsible for the sound. “I’d better check on her; she did just have kittens, you know.” Yep, writers have conversations with themselves, right?

I opened the door just a bit—I didn’t want the stray but friendly feline that my husband and I are allergic to darting into the house. 

No cat, but I found the source of the racket. My metal plaque with lavender herbs etched on either side of the word “Welcome” lay face-down on the porch. 

“Hmmm. How did that get knocked over?”

(This is not the same snake that I encountered. This
green one is actually quite cute, I think, and I
encountered him while I was safely walking
with my biologist hubby on another day. My porch
snake was bigger and way more terrifying-looking!)

I leaned out even farther, hand still on the doorknob, and stood face-to-face to a snake that was inching its way up the door frame. Just at that moment, about four inches of its tail flipped into the doorway. 

A blood-curdling scream erupted from my lips, hair stood on end, and I slammed the door. I developed a splitting headache before the door even made contact with the frame. 

My furloughed 23-year-old son came running and stared questioningly at me as I mumbled gibberish. I only began to make sense when his hand came near the doorknob. 

My hands shook, and my knees quivered. Being married to a reptile-loving, wildlife biologist for thirty-six years hasn’t removed the abject phobia I’ve had of snakes since I was a little girl.  

My son and I donned shoes and went outside via another door. He fetched my husband’s snake stick, a wooden pole with a curved hook-like end, and gingerly lifted the scary serpent and placed it into a bucket. I watched from afar—very far. 

Once my son secured the lid of the bucket and my offender was subdued, I returned to the computer, but the pounding headache and equally-pounding heartbeat didn’t let me return to work. Besides, my hands quivered too much to use the keys.

When my husband came home from the office—and might I add, on one of the two days he’d actually gone into the office to work since the pandemic began—any other day since March 17, he sat just a few feet away from me in another office with his snake-loving self—he removed the lid and said, “Oh, it’s a yellow rat snake. Isn’t he gorgeous?”

David promptly relocated the intruder to another location. My blood pressure finally reached safer levels, and I took a couple of deep breaths and plucked away on computer keys again. 

It didn’t take a stretch of my imagination to see the analogy of the hero son rescuing me from the evil one and his loving father casting the demon far, far away from me.

When the evil one knocks on your door, filling you with fears of discouragement, what will you do to thwart him? 

Reciting countless “do not fear” verses helps me when those writing discouragement days rear their forked-tongue heads. Here's a sample of other verses that I keep in mind, and more are listed on the origianl post at The Write Conversation. I use these verses to help fight the:

Fear of rejection

Romans 8:31: What then shall we say to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us?  

Romans 8:28 NIV: And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose. 

Fear of not finishing the job

2 Corinthians 8:11 NIV: Now finish the work, so that your eager willingness to do it may be matched by your completion of it, according to your means.

Ephesians 6:10 NIV: Finally, be strong in the Lord and in his mighty power.

Philippians 1:6 NIV: being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus. 

Fear of not being good enough

2 Corinthians 3:5 NLT: It is not that we think we are qualified to do anything on our own. Our qualification comes from God.  

2 Corinthians 12:9 ESV: But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. 

When writing fear knocks at the door, call on the Son and the Father, read God’s word, take a deep breath, and type on.

How about you? Are you afraid of snakes like me? My biologist husband has helped me learn to appreciate their beauty, but I want to do so from far, far away!