Paralyzed by Fear

I’d like to say I have writer’s block, but I’ve had it before and this is NOT it. I wish it was since it would eventually pass on its own. But this is more of a paralysis caused by bitter frustration and fear and I can’t seem to be able to get rid of it.

I have been published for over seven years now and I am yet to create some traction. In fact, my writing career is more similar to a cheap pair of flip-flops, skittering around a wet surface than anything resembling a pair of sport shoes or hiking boots.

This has always bothered me, of course but I’ve never been a quitter so after the initial blues my new releases always seem to drag in, I shake myself off and set my intentions on the next book.

The next book is IT! The one that will put me in a reasonable number of readers’ radars.

Then the next one comes along and it falls flat again. I cry a little, then I shut my inner critic up and start again.

Except, I am finding it very hard to do that this time. I am not sure what changed. Maybe my antidepressant meds are not working as effectively as they were before. Maybe age is making me less resilient. But what I know for sure is that ever since my last release, one I put more work behind than ever before, I have been terrified of publishing anything.

The irony of the whole thing is that I have a book ready, one that I had so much fun writing and yet, here I am paralyzed by doubt and the fear that once again, my newest “baby” will not make it very far. It’s taking me forever to format it and even longer to set up a simple cover reveal day and even more importantly, a release day. I haven’t hired any tour companies or lined up any ARC reviewers. I stare at the calendar and all comes back blank.

I have also started a prequel for this book. I even hired a graphic artist to custom design a cover for it. I have a sequel planned (as much as this pantser plans for her books) and yet, I can barely write one hundred words without being assailed by fear and doubt.

I was at a book signing just last week, one I have been going to for years now. It’s always a well-organized event where I get to meet writers I have now known for years but who I only see once a year. My table looked beautiful. It really did. I went in with a writer friend and 23 other writers and participated in a bingo that forced those playing to come to our tables to get a signature. Many people did come and it was great to talk to them, but only two or three even gave my books a second glance. I’m not going to lie, I had to fight tears of frustration.

Me at my table- 2023

Why aren’t people even curious about my books? In comes doubt flooding in. I must be doing something wrong. Maybe I was never meant to be a writer. I probably suck big time. I just don’t have what it takes to be successful.

*Sigh*

Today I made myself look at the calendar half-way objectively and set myself some dates. I do now have a launch date, a cover reveal date, and I even contacted a tour company to see if I can get some reviews for my book around release day. But I am still moving at the speed of a slug and sweating bullets (you know what happens when you throw salt on slugs, right?) with each move.

Image from Canva

Have you ever felt this way? And if so, what did you do to “snap” out of it? I’m open to suggestions. And maybe a pat in the back, lol. *sigh*