Formatting just sucks the creativity right out of me…or at least shoves it into a dark, cobweb-covered corner of my mind. It’s bad, too, because the stories are literally begging to be written.
I’m just SO out of my mind worried it won’t turn out right. Anything having to do with technology sends my brain straight to Charlie Brown’s world: “Wah-wah-wah-wah-wah.” Yep, reading all of these formatting instructions is like listening to the adults in Peanuts-land.
It’s at this point where my stress takes over any creative impulse I may have, and then it’s “Hello, hyper-perfectionist, anxiety-overload, never-going-be-good-enough, why-am-I-doing-this-to-myself” mode.
Ugh, I know I need to let go—I need to step, jump, leap, skip, or, better yet, dive headfirst into this adventure. Basically, I need to stop thinking so much…I need to stop dwelling.
I just don’t want to let anyone down—not my mama, my daddy, my characters, or anyone who may read my book. I guess that’s the thing about dreams—you have to face your fears and insecurities to give dreams (and yourself) a chance.
So, I’ll hyperventilate my way through the formatting (note to self: buy supply of paper bags), tiptoe into publishing (yeah, I just can’t jump, leap, skip, or, God forbid, dive), and dust off those cobwebs on my stories (although they seem to be doing a pretty good job of that on their own…while I’m trying to figure out formatting. Timing, stories, timing).