I’ve had a hard time sharing my manuscript with other people because I’m terrified that it’s terrible. Through processing this, I’ve realized that I’m actually worried that I wasted the last six months of my life writing something that won’t be published.
But no one can decide if my time was wasted except for me.
Everything I write provides a purpose, outside of its impact on someone else. I enjoy connecting with other people through my writing, but first and foremost, it is part of my self-care. I write because it pleases me. I write to process my experiences. I write to escape.
This book saw me through a few dark months, and that gives it inherent value. After we moved, and the snow kept us home, my writing kept me sane. These characters became my friends, while I waited to make some here. This book saved me. How could that ever have been a waste of my time?
Now, my book may provide value to me, but it has to provide value to other people in order to be published. I decided to relinquish that pressure. I want to be traditionally published, but I feel like I’m racing to that finish line, when traditional publishing can be quite a long process.
If it isn’t this book, it’ll be the next. Or the next after that. I will learn from every experience and produce a better product each time, but most importantly, I will enjoy the process. Because writing is first and foremost something I love.
By finding confidence in myself, I’ve reframed my mindset to be brave. My book is what it is, and no one else’s opinion can change what it has provided for me. Even if someone else thinks it’s terrible, it has been wonderful to me.
I have chosen courage over fear, and I am eager to see where it takes me.