I had no idea being a parent was so filled with terror. Fear of losing them, fear of their running into the street, fear for the hurts and slights they experience at school, fear for their pain, for the expense of raising them, fear that I’m providing ample need for future therapy, fear that they’ll discover I don’t have a clue what I’m doing.
The thing is, you just have to keep going. Those fears don’t stop life. Kids keep growing and experiencing more and if I stop to deal with the terror every time I’ll never keep up with them. I just have to keep teaching them, keep doing my best and hope that someday it results in productive, happy, well adjusted people.
Writing is a little bit the same way. I’m always afraid I won’t be good enough, that my story is lame, that agents will think I’m a dork, that they’ll know I don’t have a clue what I’m doing, that no reader will like me enough to spend money on me.
Like parenting I can’t let those fears overcome. I have to keep writing, keep doing my best, and hope that someday it all comes together in something people can love.