Creativity and Fear

I’m not sure I’ve ever taken a creative risk without some element of fear. I can remember: riding the Orange Line on a Saturday morning, heart racing faster with each passing stop as I approached my first meeting with a literary agent; the panic when I submitted my first essay to The Huffington Post, made worse by an internet outage during a blizzard; gripping the pages of Somewhere In Between to hide how much my hands were shaking during my first public reading. Each time, I got through the moment by reassuring myself, “It’s okay—you won’t be as afraid next time.”

Sometimes that was true. 

But most of the time, it wasn’t. 

I kept diving into work, believing if I met my goals, I could shield myself from fear. If I was successful, I wouldn’t have a reason to be afraid anymore. You could imagine my horror as, one by one, I met my goals, but the fear didn’t go away. 

Instead, my fear continued to follow me—like a shadow or a bit on Looney Tunes—taking the same step with me each time I took a step forward. It took me a while to understand that making art that felt meaningful to me would always contain some element of vulnerability, vulnerability that would often make me afraid. But, like any other aspect of the creative process, maybe fear could be used as a tool. Here are some of the things I’ve noticed:

Fear as Energy

Sometimes, fear shows up in my creative practice as an influx of energy—whether it’s anxiety, insecurity, paranoia, or even excitement or anticipation. Knowing what type of fear I’m dealing with can help me adjust my routines or self-care habits.

Fear as Motivation

There have been times when fear is like the third rail of my creative practice, a dangerous charge that keeps the train moving forward. My fear of missing opportunities or slipping into the obscurity of my own self-doubt encourages me to step out of my comfort zone, despite my worries or insecurities. 

Fear as a Guide

I’ve noticed that I can use my fear as a guide. Am I afraid because I have a boundary or emotional need that I’m not honoring? Is there a skill I still need to learn? Am I in alignment with my values—either showing up despite my fear, or letting go of something that isn’t right for me? The common advice is to follow your joy, but maybe following your joy includes fielding the things that bring you emotions associated with fear. 

Fear as Inspiration

For however much I cope with fear related to sharing my work, I’ve found that fear is actually a reliable source of inspiration. When I’m developing a story and stumble across an idea that makes me uncomfortable, it can be a sign that I’m sharing something vulnerable. Fiction, in particular, can be a safe space to explore these ideas. One of the prompts I’ve used is to make a list of the things I’m afraid of and pitch short story ideas based on them.  

Something I’ve been wondering, as uncomfortable as fear is, maybe I don’t want it to disappear. Maybe fear is one of the most valuable tools I have in my creative skill set, a compass to show me if what I’m creating is connecting me and my reader, helping us see each other, reminding us of our shared humanity.