Heather L. Barmore
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    Change In Action at Babble Voices

    Sunday
    Aug142005

    Fear of Falling

    Failure doesn't mean you are a failure... it just means you haven't succeeded yet. ~Robert Schuller

    I feel myself starting to try too hard instead of just letting it go and writing the way I would speak to someone. I’m trying to be witty and charming. 95% of the time I write the way I would speak to someone. Throwing in words with more than 4 syllables intermitently (look there’s one now). Through high school and college I did much of the same, save for my papers in spain, which were fine, yet neither witty or charming, because I didn’t know how to do that in spanish. Talk about inhibiting my writing and ability to just be me. It took me two and a half months to learn how to use the subjunctive properly. But know full well that I had been taught to do so years before, but as the saying goes, practice makes perfect.

    Here’s the deal; I’m deathly afraid of failure. The way I fear space, sinking ships, public speaking and the death of my mother. Even now just thinking about failure gives me a lump in my throat. There are things that I’ve said I want to do and I end up doing them. I learned to play the clarinet, golf. I actually lost weight once (although I was told I appeared anorexic, so I just said fuck it). I went to spain. My obsession with United States government paid off as well. Writing is one of those things, where sometimes I have it, sometimes I don’t. One day I can write brilliantly other days it’s complete shit. Since kindergarten I’ve done well at it, but when I was 5 I wasn’t nearly as critical of myself as I am now.

    Few people know that Harper Lee wrote one great novel, a novel that I have been in love with since fourth grade. Some things I read because it's mandatory and then I praise God when it’s over and others I devour and cry at the end because there is no more. I’ve gotten the political thing down so far and everything in that regard thus far is going along swimmingly. Now all I want is someone to read what I write and appreciate it. I want to make someone laugh or even cry.

    That’s all I’m asking.

    Here’s the part where the little shred of optimism that I have saved up gets spent. Will any of the things I’ve wanted or that I fear, actually come to fruition? I hate to be cliché but only time will tell. But thus far, have things that I have wanted to happen happened? Yes, yes, oh yes. So is there really any need for me to worry about the inevitable failure that may or may not happen? No. But will I? Yup.
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    Reader Comments (1)

    You're right that only time will tell. But waiting? Sucks. So. Badly. I find, at least, that the more I wait to more I worry. Which I think defeats the purpose, anyway.

    March 29, 2006 | Unregistered Commenteralana

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