Fear of a Bad Sentence

One thing writers don’t talk about much is fear, though it gnaws at the edges of our consciousness every time we sit down to work. Instead we talk about “writer’s block,” that inability to put phrase to page, as if it were a cognitive, rather than emotional condition. It’s just fear. Our minds want to write gorgeous sentences that rivet readers’ attention and dazzle them with our genius and skill. Instead, we’re half confused about both what and how to express ourselves, and our minds turn into a pretzel trying to reconcile the goal with the reality. It’s why so many writers become alcoholics.

And then there’s controversy and accuracy. What if I write something dumb and people notice? What if I say something that provokes a Twitter backlash? What if I lapse into cliche? I’m a middle-aged white writer who has spent more than a quarter century learning and writing about a single subject, and I still worry about this stuff. It’s so much worse when you’re a younger writer just trying to get started and you worry a misstep will derail your career. And if I still worry about all this stuff, imagine what a young, BIPOC woman thinks as she approaches the page. When people will attack you just for who you are, irrespective of how well you write, it must be paralyzing to start.

More stuff writers fear? How about rejection. This is the one I’m dealing with today, and why I’ve written a blog post instead of doing what I should be doing, which is sending out an important pitch. I really want to land this article, and not just because it would be good for me. I’ve got a subject that deserves attention and won’t get it if I fail. Writers get a couple paragraphs to convince an editor to strike up a conversation. Use that allocation badly and you probably never hear back, or get a polite but very definite dismissal. Don’t even get me started on book proposals, which are another long process that can end very quickly—and another front in my efforts this week.

There are many joys in the writing life. I’ve worked crap jobs before and I am well aware of how lucky I am. Yet it is a weirdly fearful life, and I don’t think many people realize that. So instead of doing my proper work, I’m engaging in the classic writer dodge: avoiding the real task at hand with substitute work that makes me feel like I’m actually accomplishing something. And with that, back to the pitch—