Imperfectly Brave: Embracing Flaws, Fears, and a Novel Journey
How do you deliver when caged by fear?
All through last year, I knew I wanted to write another novel but, for some reason, I kept starting and stopping, starting and stopping and starting all over again. Nearly drove myself crazy.
Why couldn’t I just write this book? There was always an excuse — I was scared. The subject matter would require dissecting the abuse I went through. I was terrified to do this and ended up grounding myself mentally.
As someone who keeps reminding herself to not edit while she writes, the thought of writing pages on end of fiction without editing on the go? This scares me so much.
What if I come back to edit and find out that I have written trash?
Then I wanted to get started on my Newsletter. I wanted to connect more with my readers. I wanted a private space with them but again — nonstarter.
It took me a moment to realize what was happening to me — I was afraid. I wanted to sit down and crank out a perfect book. I wanted to send out perfect newsletters from the get-go.
- What if no one cares for this book where I dissect my deepest hurts?
- What if I am not able to do it justice?
- What if I am not able to market my book properly?
- Do I know enough people who can read my work for free and give me good reviews?
- What if even the free and first readers aren’t enough for me to have a good place on Amazon bestselling books?
So many questions. So many fears. So many what-ifs.
And this year, this is the year that I anticipate a major move with myself and my children. What if I chicken out and choose to stay in my place of hurt rather than having the self-respect to complete the move I started?
What if? What ifs?
So the word came to me — Imperfectly. Not just Imperfect — Imperfectly. As in, I will write my book — imperfectly. I will send out my imperfect Newsletters. I do not need to see more than two steps beyond my move. I will make the move, imperfectly.
This year, I move imperfectly, and then, and only then, will I let myself look back at the outcome. No more will I assume an outcome and overthink anything.
Imperfectly.
This word has saved my sanity and for the first time since last year, I have started up on my novel. It is going — imperfectly. When the time for my move comes, I will get up, pick up my children, and leap into the unknown.
Over and again, I remind myself that I have never regretted anything my soul desperately told me was right to do. Over and again, I remind myself that I still have the time to change course if I fail but on my deathbed, I will hurt most if I have to lie and regret the things I chickened out on.
Finally ladies and gentlemen, here is my Newsletter. I am excited for you to see what I did with it — fearful that you will not like the imperfectly done work but hopeful that I will not be alone in my world because you will walk with me.
Thank you for reading. Here is to 2024 — an Imperfectly Done Year.
Click here to download a free copy of my poem collection — Where Do Broken Hearts Go?
Readers tell me that the poems in it tell the story of our collective brokenness. Read and tell me what you think!
Thank You For Reading.
