As writers, we have to make choices constantly.

From the big picture planning of what to include in a plot or character arc, to the pacing of chapters and scenes, all the way down to every word we write.

Most of these choices (especially the smaller ones) are usually made with our guts. Our subconscious gives us an instinctive urge, and we follow it. This is an excellent way to make decisions, because your gut is the key indicator of what feels right for your story and which choices are in the right direction to make your vision (however hazy it may feel in your conscious brain) come to life on the page.

But sometimes, we allow something else to make choices for us… fear.

Recently, I spoke with two different clients who said to me:

“I really like the way I’m ‘telling’ the story. I can’t seem to pull off ‘show’ anyway.”

“I should probably do first-person because third was a disaster last time.”

While both of them sounded confident in their “choices,” when we dug more into how they reached their decisions, it became obvious to all of us that it was fear—not gut instinct driving the show.

The first client was choosing to “tell” her story because she hadn’t yet learned how to “show” and feared she couldn’t do it. The second was choosing first-person because the last time she had attempted third-person (years ago) she struggled.

They were making choices for their stories out of the fear that they couldn’t “pull off” another choice. Not because this was a choice they wanted or what was right for the story.

I told each of my clients: “We don’t make choices out of fear.”

Sometimes we let our fear get in the way of the right decision for our story. We worry whether we’re “good enough” to tell our stories, if our choices are going to turn off readers, or that we’re too wrapped up in the rules of craft.

Fear is often an indicator that you’re resisting your subconscious.

Making decisions from this mindset limits your options and cuts you off from discovering what truly is best for your story. It shuts off your access to your gut and obscures you from realizing what will bring your true, heart-driven vision to the page.

To reiterate, fear and doubt sound like:

“I’m not sure I can pull that off…”

“That approach seems difficult…”

“Readers might not like that…”

Sound familiar?

Even in my own writing, I’ve noticed how this fear can show up in different ways—and how it causes resistance at almost any part of the process.

For example, as I was writing this morning, I hit a moment of indecision—and it stopped me in my tracks. I was feeling really stuck on when to insert a specific scene, and who should be involved in it.

I could feel myself pushing back on deciding. I didn’t want to make a decision. I could feel the block forming.

My inner critic is sneaky in how she shows up, and the kind of resistance she creates. So then I asked myself why I didn’t want to make that decision. You know what my inner critic said?

👉🏻 What if it’s wrong?

👉🏻 What if you have to change it?

👉🏻 What if that’s a lot of work to change?

👉🏻 What if people don’t like it?

👉🏻 What if they think it should be different?

Fear is a huge contributor to resistance.

It reminded me of a conversation I recently had with my toddler. She’s in a phase where if she doesn’t want to do something, she says “I don’t know how to do it.”

For example, a toy she wants is upstairs. She asks me to get it. I say, “you can go upstairs and grab it.” Then she says, “I don’t know how to go upstairs.” (Cue me rolling my eyes because yes, she knows how to go up the stairs.)

But in that moment, her rejection of doing the task makes it feel impossible to her. She KNOWS she can go upstairs, but she doesn’t WANT to—which means she can’t.

How often does this mentality interrupt our writing lives?

How often do we tell ourselves ‘we can’t’ or ‘we don’t know how,’ simply because we don’t want to?

Our toddler brain surfaces and sneakily convinces us that because we don’t want to do something (for whatever root reason), we cannot.

This is not a true representation of reality; It’s resistance.

Just like my daughter can walk up those stairs, we can work through our fear and resistance.

To start breaking through this resistance, some things I asked myself were:

👉🏻 What’s the EASIEST way I could do “the thing”? Could I ask for help? Talk it out with someone else?

👉🏻 Without beating myself up, how can I flip this mentality on its head? How can I show myself it’s possible?

So, this morning I had to love on my inner critic for a second and remind her that ALL of writing is making little decisions. All of writing is facing those fears, and choosing to step forward in the face of them.

If you’re making a big decision about your story and are unsure if your instinctive choice is gut or fear driven, ask yourself:

✨ What is my brain telling me I should do?

✨ What would happen if I do the opposite of what I think I should?

Your reaction to the second question will deliver your answer. If you simply wrinkle your nose at the idea, it’s likely your gut leading the way. If you viscerally cringe with an ‘absolutely-not’ shut down reaction, it could be fear leading the way.

Other questions for you to consider whether it’s your gut or fear leading the way are:

✨ Which choice will deliver the impact to my readers that I want to have?

✨ Which choice will bring my true vision for this story to life?

Don’t know the answers? Go back to the basics of your vision: revisit the message of your story, who you’re writing it for, and how you want them to feel. Use those answers to make the decision that’s best for your story—not the decision that feels the safest.

Remember, the best choices are often the scariest ones.

After sitting down with my inner critic this morning, I wrote a list of things that are normal to the writing process, things that I will not be afraid of:

I am not afraid of hard work.

I am not afraid of making mistakes.

I am not afraid of rewriting.

I am not afraid of doing it over and over and over.

I am not afraid of taking extra time.

I am not afraid of bad reviews.

I am not afraid of experimenting.

I am not afraid of change.

This is my anti-fear credo.

These are the things that I will not let stop me. I may be periodically thrown off by them, but I will ultimately face them and choose to push past that fear/resistance. These are the things I believe about the writing process.

Writing is rewriting. Writing is deciding. Writing is trying it out and changing it later. Writing is owning what you love. Writing is changing things. Writing is trusting your gut. Writing is not always loving it, but knowing you’ll get there.

I won’t let fear stop me from writing.

Will you?

xo,