Afraid to Publish Your Work? Here’s the Solution

What you describe in that second section, learning to let go, is exactly what it feels like to give birth.

There’s a point in labor called “transition” when you feel like giving up completely. It’s the most difficult phase of labor. It’s the point when everything you thought you were doing well flies out the window. You get frustrated, confused, discouraged and irritable. You don’t want to talk to anyone, and you don’t want anyone to talk to you. It’s the point when most women who’ve chosen to have a natural birth give up and call for Doctor Feelgood.

But here’s the thing about transition–it’s also the shortest phase of labor. If you can push through it, if you can somehow see how far you’ve come, if you can believe what you’re doing is important work, and that it’s work no one else in the world can do but you, it will all be over soon. 
And then, when it’s over (and I mean, almost immediately after it’s over!) and you’re face-to-face with that precious gift, the pain dissipates. You’re overcome with a great sense of accomplishment and pride, and you realize it wasn’t so bad. 

In fact, you think you just might be able to do it again someday. 

Such a timely post for me, Jeff — thank you!

For most of my life, my aim has been to avoid criticism. I’ve worked myself  into frenzies and near exhaustion all for one goal: nothing. Sadly, I’ve been pleased (or at least relieved) when I’ve achieved it.  Nobody complained? Ahhh, “success”!

Listening to Seth Godin’s Tribes recently, I was struck by the importance of being remark-able. By the concept that criticism is far better than nothing (what?!?) By the reminder that although criticism stings for a moment, a remarkable piece of writing lasts forever. And by the idea that remarks (especially critical ones) can become a conversation that pushes my thinking and writing to places they can’t go on their own. 

A friend gave me this quote in late December, and it’s hanging above my computer as a reminder that 2012 is my year to quit revering nothing and start (as you put it) “shipping”:

“To avoid criticism: do nothing, say nothing, and be nothing.” Elbert Hubbard

Everything seems more epic when it’s inside my head.  The alternative to not shipping is fictitious perfection.  This type of perfection is rooted in statements like “I could paint that, it’s just a bunch of scribbled lines thrown together.”  The funny thing is, even when I try to paint like a modern artist or write, the end product is never what I envisioned it would be.  So sometimes it stays in my head as a perfect blog post.  And sometimes it ships as an imperfect piece of garbage.  I would be lying if I preferred the latter every time.  I call it “the monster” but it goes by different names.  Sometimes I win, sometimes the monster wins. 

Ok, ok, back to the keyboard. Thanks, Jeff

I focus on the “why”, why I’m releasing my “art” to the world.
“There’s nothing to fear but fear itself” right?

“Then, with all the courage I can muster, I condemn the voices of self-doubt. I reject the temptation to wait. And I go.”

This is the challenge. When what you default to: covering up, hesitating, being opaque (let’s say) … due to habitually doing this throughout your life, then gaining the courage to reveal, be embarrassed, fail and present to others that which they may not understand is, well, freaky. It’s easy to stay stuck, defined by the overt and covert opinions and definitions of others.

But, what happens? Nothing. Aka a sweet, safe, lifelong companion that keeps one comfortably at the center of the bell curve. Bleh.

This is exactly where I am right now. I am tempted to throw in the towel on a certain project I’ve been working on. I hear all the same voices of self-doubt you mentioned and think I am afraid to finish it because of what comes next (the submitting and shipping and rejection). But something you said spoke directly to my heart…”But before you start, you must finish. That’s what “shippng” is: the discipline of letting go so you can experience the thrill of starting again.” Yes, this is what I must do. Thank you

I love all the comments here. I have the same apprehensions too. The hard part is learning to hone the craft of writing, reading the how-two books from seasoned authors, only to find out you need to go back and give your writing yet another once-over. But all the seasoned writers will tell you that the time comes when you need to let the work go and publish it. You’ll never have your work one hundred percent perfect the way you want it to be. These same authors will also tell you that though you’ll have readers who will love your work, there will be those who simply won’t care for what you’ve done. That’s just the way it is. But the truth is you won’t ever know unless you push your work out there.

This is hard for me. Rejection in the realm of writing is a VERY normal and common thing. So, it is really hard to stop “perfecting” and let something be what it is, especially when readers can always find room for you to modify or change what you’ve already written. The worst is finishing something, and then someone telling you it’s not done. 

In a way, I think stories are like people, they could always grow or change and be better, etc., but not exposing things that, as the artist, you are done with is like refusing to have your picture taken because in a few moments you may look different. 

Art is perfect in its imperfection. It’s a snapshot of existence. Sure, it needs to develop to be born, but eventually it has to come out and live. I believe art is the product of the person you are when you make it too. By not finishing and exposing whatever it is you are working on right then, you are cheating yourself and the art.