The fear is beginning to creep in. It’s dark, taunting, oozing fingers wrapping around my bravery.
(thank you for the visual Shannon Dittemore)
I didn’t realize as I wrote my book that there was going to be so much vulnerability involved. I should have. I have dreams of my book being enjoyed by a few… hundred… thousands… millions… okay I’m get carried away.
So much emotion goes into writing a book. Now, as I glimpse the end of the editing process, I know the next step is my awesome beta-readers. I know that they love me. Most are family and very close friends but there are a few that I haven’t even met in person. It doesn’t matter, in my head, if the reader is my Mom or a dear FB friend… this book holds a lot of me. I let my sister-in-law read it as I went and that was nerve-racking enough.
To have my creation in the hands of others is daunting but necessary if I want to move forward.
It’s not like the book is my life laid bare, my autobiography of failures and triumphs. However, it feels almost as personal. I have to prepare for criticism. I have to prepare for the possibility that some, hopefully not all, may not care for it even though I think it’s great. It feels like I am putting my heart out there, bare and vulnerable.
I’ve been burnt before when laying my heart bare and doing it again is scary. I do it often in life. I do it with my husband, my kids, my family and my friends. So, because I believe that I wrote this for a reason, I will put my heart out there again. It may be in for a lashing (I may have trouble with criticism) or it may double in size at the encouraging words. Either way, with each book I hand out to those I trust to help, a little bit of me goes with it.
A tiny part of me in sort of exhilarated too. A step of bravery and trust. Here’s hoping that my heart comes back full.
I’d guess I’d be okay with slightly-singed too…