I got another rejection from a contest last night. I wasn’t as devastated as I have been in the past but it was a disappointment. It was a first chapters contest and I sent my first chapter from my novel. Is it perfect? No, but I thought it was solid and intriguing. I think I am underestimating how many people submit to these things. Even if my work was good, it may pale in comparison to the thousands of other entries. But I wasn’t upset.

I was afraid.

I have a fear that rides with my when I submit or share my writing. A fear that I am not a good writer and just kidding myself. The strange thing? I never felt that way about acting. When I had a bad audition, I knew it. Perhaps it is because acting is something that beat inside me my entire life. A core part of my being that I never doubted. Rejection hurt and sucked but never once did I think “Wow, I am a terrible actor. I’ll never succeed.” I would be frustrated, disappointed, angry even, but never completely ready to throw in the towel because I thought my talent was lacking.

I may have touched on this before. But it was last night that I think I named the monster. I fear failure as a writer. I suppose I feared it as an actor but never like this. This hits me deeply, straight in the gut. I don’t know if it is because writing is so personal and I am so proud of what I create that it slices me open differently. I don’t know if it is because I am following a dream I let lay quiet for most of my life: to be a published author telling stories that stay with people. I don’t know if it is because I put acting on the back burner and now I feel like someone who floats from passion to passion without ever succeeding in one. Success is relative, I know. I had a lot of great acting gigs so I can’t complain and I am sure I will have more in the future. I have yet to have a writing one. Maybe that’s it?

I still feel like a flailing newborn fawn on ice. Probably the heart of it all. I am doing what I assume I should be but I haven’t seen any results I hoped to have seen. Like, how does a blog gain traction? Make money? I think I’m doing SquareSpace right but like, am I really? Probably not. I’m figuring it all out on my own and I am not the most reliable.

I am putting a lot of stock in this dream. The pressure of that is very real and intense and horrifying to be quite honest. It is terrifying to take a leap of faith in a skill that I have always treasured and thought I was good at. This is not a request for telling me I am a good writer, by the way. This is an expression of a gut feeling I don’t think I am alone in having. How do we get past that part? The doubt, the fear of failure, the fear that we are kidding ourselves. Who tells us in the end? Do we find out ourselves or do we just give up eventually?

I’m not giving up, I’m only sharing. I wish I had the blind confidence of a contestant on American Idol who is so confident they are an incredible singer, they open their mouths and let it all out without a second thought. This fear travels with me but only surfaces and screams when I get a rejection. Go figure, right? It plants another seed of doubt in my garden full of doubt blossoms. I suppose it is something that we live with as artists. We keep going until we don’t.