I spent most of my life in fear of criticism about my writing. That means I wasted more than 40 years of opportunity because I was scared of a little spanking. And, one I most likely would have deserved.
I wasn’t afraid to stay out past curfew, or sneak a drink at Thanksgiving, or steal the car for a joyride. A spanking, or any repercussions at all, were expected and endured. They didn’t slow me down in any way.
So, why would something like a comment from a source I don’t even know keep me from moving forward? Especially when there has always been enough on the positive side of the scale to keep it tipped? Why would a verbal “look of disdain” have such an impact?
I don’t know.
But, I’ve gotten over it. I took a chance and started sending out work to see who would bite. I just said screw it — I’m going to try, what’s the worst thing that happens. And you know what, I succeeded at exactly where I was so convinced I would fail.
Try. What’s the worst thing that can happen. Some anonymous keyboard hack on the other side of the world gives you a bad review?
So. Freaking. What.