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Fear is the little death. September 1, 2011

Posted by phoenixaeon in Born of frustration, Damn you evil inner critic I will soon show you my mettle, If I could sit down and just write I might get somewhere, lost words, Mindless rambling that you could do without!, writing.

Writing. I don’t do so much at the moment. I haven’t done so much in about two years. The last year or so on the blog is testament to that. Not only in the frequency of posts, but in the quality too. I have lost my lexicological botanic garden. Words no longer flourish at the tips of my cyber or mechanical fingers. To put a cliche to it, the well is dry. And the reason? The little death in the title.

“Too much fear and all you’ll get is silence.” (A L Kennedy, Ten Rules for Writing Fiction, The Guardian.)

Ain’t that the truth! I made a comment the other day about having low self confidence when it comes to putting words on paper. Now, while I think that is partially true, I also know it is because I have a fear of failure. So to stop that fear, why start? It’s like that with the blog. The longer I’ve stayed away, the harder I’ve found it to press publish – even to start a new post. At the last count, I have 29 unfinished drafts of posts I had intended to publish, but I ended up losing my nerve or simply thinking ‘Why would anyone want to read this rubbish?’ So my doubt stayed my hand. I’ve even thought about closing the blog down, as it’s become evidence of my mental self-neglect. Looking at it makes it feel like some elaborate torture device, mocking me in shades of words once known. So much for the ‘Once there were dragons’ thing at the top of the blog. Now the words are gone, too. Well, all but the academic.


So, what to do? I still don’t feel confident enough to start again, despite this post. My flight feathers are still in mourning, crying for the warming rays of the sun. Maybe I should just continue to test the waters by trying to post more regularly here. It might not be the writing I am aiming for, but it could be the means to an end. Or a beginning. A slow therapy to reinstate the visual voice.


Whatever it could be, it’s time to press publish…



1. Dad Who Writes (Gabriel) - September 6, 2011

And so you did! There’s a Frank Herbert reference in there somewhere too…

Whenever I get stuck, I start again.

phoenixaeon - September 7, 2011

Yeah, I was thinking maybe that could be the literary tattoo… But then I thought ‘too cliche?’

2. P - September 4, 2011

Your post made me smile, nod my head and rub my chin. In fundamentals, not specifics, it’s like looking into a mirror at some parts of my living.

Once there were dragons, maybe there still are and we just don’t see them in our world because we’ve been told, or it’s easier to believe, that they don’t exist and that they are but fantasy. Where would the world be if suddenly we could see the dragons?

However maybe a more important question is what is fear? As I was reminded by the wise (perhaps?) but definitely mischievous, pokey stick girl recently fear may be no more than a fantasy event assumed real.

Personally I think fear is more of a virus – I’ve a long long draft post on that one – I might hit publish one day.

And I wonder can you see or feel what lies beneath the fear? If it were but a cloud and you could pass through it, what would you find, is it masking another emotion?

phoenixaeon - September 7, 2011

It’s probably masking a whole gaggle of emotions. If it did happen to be a cloud, I’d probably be zapped by the electricity and deafened by the thunder.

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