Overcoming the fear of sharing your writing

The risk of being seen

Last week I saw a message over on Notes that I won’t quote directly as I don’t want to accidentally cause any distress to the writer, but here’s what it said:

“Fear and doubt. That is what I experience each time I think about sharing my fiction on Substack. I’ve considered serializing my fiction book I am writing and I would love to hear some writers here on Substack weigh in with their opinions. Thanks in advance.”

Dear reader, I weighed in.

Afterwards, I decided it was a useful and very universal topic that deserved to be explored in more detail. So today I’m writing about fear, doubt and overcoming them (or not), with hopefully some handy tips along the way.

As always, this is just my experience. Everyone comes at this stuff from a different angle, and what’s worked for me might not for you. So, on that note, do be sure to jump into the comments at the end to share your own tips/fears/questions.

Everyone is different

And I don’t mean in a ‘beautiful snowflake’ sort of way. I’m talking more practically: everyone has their own background, experiences, expertise. Our personalities are very unique to us, and being a great writer doesn’t mean being super confident. Equally, being super confident doesn’t automatically make you a great writer.

I’m making this point because it’s useful to recognise up front that there will aways be some people more confident and some people less confident than you. Don’t get frustrated when you see others happily sharing their work without a care in the world. They’re just different.

You can’t magically shift who you are, but there are things you can do to nudge your brain in your preferred direction.

For a bit of context: I’m an extremely shy person. As a child, I would say I was cripplingly shy. Terrified of basic social interactions, always worried about making silly mistakes. I’d be the quiet one at the back of the class, hoping to not be noticed.

These days, I’m happy sending this newsletter out to over 4,000 people, including my fiction. I’ve spoken on panels in person and online. I’ve taught workshops. I don’t say any of that to show off, more to evidence that you can get from here to there, if you want to.

How to get past your fear

1. Self-describe as ‘a writer’

This is easier said than done. In fact, it’s one of the hardest things to do, if you’re just starting out. But it’s important, which is why it’s up the top here — start practising today, as it’ll take a while to get the hang of, if you haven’t yet.

I am a writer.

It can be difficult to say to yourself in the mirror, let alone to anybody else. Especially if you’re not yet published, or if you haven’t been published ‘traditionally’, the doubt can become overwhelming.

Who are you to say you’re a writer, if you still have a day job and scrabble about in the evenings to get the words down?

Funny thing is, hardly any writers make a living from their writing (especially fiction writers). Even those you might consider successful and published via a major publisher most likely augment their earnings with teaching, or working in a bookshop, or a completely unrelated job. This is annoying, but also true.

There’s a very simple way to identify if someone is a writer or not.

If you’re writing, you’re a writer. If you’re not, you’re not.

Practice saying it: “I’m a writer.”

The more you believe it, the easier everything else will become.

2. Create a ‘professional persona’

You’re a creative person. That’s what the writing is all about, right?

It’s time to use some of those skills on yourself and your work.

I find it useful to think of my ‘writing self’, and the writing itself, as being slightly separated from myself. One or two steps back.

Hence I use ‘Simon K Jones’ as my writing name. My actual name is just ‘Simon Jones’ (or ‘Simon M Jones to use my real middle name), but I like the sound of the hard ‘K’. ‘Simon K Jones’ sounds more like a writer to me than ‘Simon Jones’. It’s silly, but there it is.

It means that I can slightly compartmentalise ‘Simon K Jones’. Anything bad directed towards ‘Simon K Jones’ is therefore about the writing, rather than being personal. ‘Simon K Jones’ is a brand, of sorts, the company which produces the ‘products’ that are my stories.

Which all sounds a bit mercantile and corporate, but really it’s about putting up some safeguards. Mental protection.

It makes it easier for me to talk about my writing, and to put my work out in the world, even if it’s nothing more than a bit of a brain trick.

3. Don’t wait for it to be perfect

Writing is about iterating. You’re constantly writing and rewriting, and each thing you write teaches you something new that can be incorporated into the next thing.

If you look back on old work and think it’s terrible: that’s a sign of real progress! It means you’ve improved since then and are now producing better work. If your old work still looks great to you, that’s when you need to worry.

The logical conclusion here is that nothing you write will ever be perfect. It can’t be, because six months, twelve months, two years down the line you’ll look back at it and spot all sorts of things you’d do differently.

If the need for perfection is holding you back from sharing your work, try reversing your expectations. Instead of thinking in a maximalist, everything-has-to-be-perfect way, instead go small, and minimalist: what is the bare minimum level of quality you’d be OK with before publishing?

As an example, I’ve been writing Tales from the Triverse for over two years. I’ve learned a lot in that time, which means that what I’m writing now is likely more sophisticated than what I was writing at the start. But if I’d waited to start publishing it, I’d never have got to where I am now.

Quality control is important, of course. But good enough is almost always more useful than perfect.

4. Even the most popular books have haters

Pick any wildly successful book and there will be people who really, really didn’t like it. The reverse is also true — find a critically panned book and there will still be people who like it.

What needs recognising here is that every book produces a spectrum of responses. There’s no such thing as a book that everyone loves. You won’t be able to create something that is universally adored.

This is actually quite freeing. All you need to do is write something that you will love. Do that, and some other people will feel the same way. There’s no need to worry about negative reviews, because that’s just part of being creative and taking risks.

A range of responses to the work, if anything, is a sign that you’ve made something that is interesting. If everyone had the exact same response, it would be far less exciting.

5. Be selective about when to engage

Whether you’re publishing via a newsletter, somewhere like Wattpad, through an indie published paperback or by partnering with a major publisher, you will get feedback from readers at some point. This might be in the form of emails, letters, Goodreads reviews, Amazon reviews, comments on your blog and so on.

There are too many stories of authors — including famous ones — wading into arguments about their own books. It’s always ugly.

General rule of thumb: if someone says something negative, or leaves a bad review, leave well alone. Your job is not to convince them to change their opinion. Them not liking your work doesn’t mean your work is bad: it just means that specific person didn’t like it, which is fine.

Remember: even the most critically adored novels, or the biggest bestsellers, will have dissenting opinions.

In the case of positive reviews, and depending on context, a simple ‘thank you’ can be welcome (on your own newsletter or website, for example). If someone directly asks a question, by all means engage in conversation, but remember that you are The Author. If readers are talking amongst themselves, it’s often best to stay out of it: your presence could stifle the conversation.

Anecdotally, my experiences with readers online has always been very, very positive. People haven’t always liked my work, but they’ve always been friendly and often have provided useful feedback. I can count the number of ‘nasty’ comments on one hand, over a ten year period.

6. Success is relative

Everyone has a different notion of success. You need to figure out what yours is: subscribers, reader numbers, book sales, comments, mainstream reviews, literary awards?

Fear of public failure can hold us back. Try not to compare yourself to others because their measure of success could be very different to yours, and they could be going about it in a different way. Especially with serial fiction, it’s a long, slow game.

Again, it’s why you need to prioritise yourself as the reader. Enjoy the process, write for yourself, and treat everything else as a bonus. Your own response to your work is the only time you can really have a measure of control and influence over what happens.

7. Put your stuff out for free

This tip is likely going to sound a bit odd, or could even annoy some people.

To say up front, then: yes, I do believe that writers should value their work and enjoy financial reward for their efforts. I’m also cognisant that we mostly live in a society that undervalues creativity, and that making a living as a creative person is really hard.

My point here, though, is slightly different. If you are selling your writing, that immediately puts ‘a value’ on it. Not a creative, literary value, but a literal money cost. That then sets up a seller/consumer relationship between you and your readers, instead of a writer/reader relationship. If somebody pays $5 for something they want to feel that they got their money’s worth.

If somebody buys a product and doesn’t like it, they might feel disappointed. They could ask for a refund, or leave a negative review.

Alternatively, if someone gets something for free, the exchange is very different. There’s less risk for all concerned. If someone doesn’t like a piece of free fiction they read on the internet, they’ll probably just move on. Other than time, they haven’t ‘lost’ anything.

Therefore putting your work out for free can predispose your readers to think in a more positive way, or a more generous way. If you’re a new writer, this can be helpful — a bonus side effect is that you’ll also be able to attract more readers, rather than paywalling everything from the start.

You don’t have to do this forever, and there are nuanced ways of doing it. For example, the paid option on this newsletter is primarily a ‘patron’ gesture of support and/or approval, rather than a direct exchange of money in return for goods. Almost everything I publish is free to read, so I’m not selling ‘products’ in the traditional sense.

8. Build a writer network

Something I’ve found immeasurably helpful over the years is to connect with other writers. Each new writer is a new point of reference for how this whole crazy business works. It’s someone I can learn from.

This can be done on a local level, if you live somewhere where writers congregate. I’m in Norwich, in the UK, which somebody once described as being the book equivalent of Los Angeles: instead of actors, everyone you meet wants to be a writer. I occasionally go to writing group meet-ups, which are always revealing.

You can form networks online, too. This is easier than ever thanks to the growing newsletter sphere: subscribe and read other writers, dive into conversations that interest you and generally raise your head above the parapet. Contributing to discussions on other people’s newsletters and work can be a good way to start building your own confidence, before publishing your own material.

If you’re using Substack for your newsletter you also have the benefit of Notes and Recommendations, which increasingly provide excellent ways to network with other writers. It’s a proper melting pot, too, with writers from all over the world and at all stages of their careers. There aren’t many places online where you can hang out with bestselling, critically revered legends and complete newcomers (and everyone in-between).

9. Go to events & dream of being on the panel

Next time you go to a literary festival, or a book launch, or connect to a webinar, as you’re sitting in the audience listening to writers talk about their work and their craft, reserve a piece of your imagination and allow it to project yourself up onto that panel.

I used to do this. When I went to events at the Norfolk & Norwich Festival, or attended London Book Fair, I always thought about how exciting it would be to actually be one of the speakers.

Slowly, over time, that became a reality. I’ve been on panels at festivals, spoken at events, delivered workshops, been interviewed on podcasts. At some point I moved from sitting in the audience to being on the stage. It was a long, slow process, and required me to do a lot of writing in order to earn that position (and have something to talk about).

You don’t have to do any of that, of course. It’s entirely optional. But it can be an affirming experience.

10. Talking at events

I wrote in more detail about doing author events a little while back, which feels relevant to today’s post:

Don't be scared of doing author events

It’s all about nudging yourself in the right direction. You might not be ready to share your work with the world yet, but keep an eye on that future self and keep heading that way.

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Thanks for reading.

If you missed it, the latest Triverse story wrapped up on Friday, so you can now read all five parts of ‘Far, far away’. Here’s the first part:

I’m working on an article at the moment about the reader/writer connection, especially in the context of writing online serials. I think it’ll be a good one, and I’m intending to talk to some actual readers to get their point of view.

Otherwise, it’s the usual summer holiday wrangling period. Putting a newsletter out each week requires a regular rhythm, which goes completely out the window once school breaks. And on that note, I’m going to go hang out with my son.

Have lovely weeks.

Photo by Massimiliano Sarno on Unsplash