Worry Well
I’ve received a lot of very good advice in the last six months. Some of it I can’t keep in my head because too much has been swirling around. The remainder I repeat to myself daily. Like this:
If you must worry, don’t worry in quantity. Worry in quality. Worry well.
I am a champion worrier. Apparently a key component of my makeup is the phrase, “why be happy when you can brood?” I wouldn’t even hesitate to call my propensity for worry downright Olympian. Or even pathological.
Part of the problem is that I was trained as a child to anticipate and care for the needs of everyone around me before even thinking about my own. Part of it, I suspect, is inborn. Another part is my habitual insomnia. Sleeplessness breeds worry like food and oxygen breed Tribbles.
There’s been a lot of changes lately, not the least of which occurred yesterday and involved a metric ton of paperwork as well as some serious cash. I collapsed at home afterward and thought, my God, what have I done? My writing partner saved the day: “It’s called buyer’s remorse, and you should ignore it. This will make you and your kids safer. The way things were before wasn’t sustainable.”
She was right. This is just another instance where I have to worry well.
I often worry that my career will evaporate and I’ll be left with two little ‘uns to support and no means of doing so. It takes a physical effort, sometimes, to remind myself that pessimistic thinking has never really gotten me anywhere and can be downright unhealthy. I have to tell myself, sometimes out loud: If you think about that, Lili, you also need to think about what you’ll do if it doesn’t tank. What if you have a long, successful career? Focus on that, and what you need to do for that. This is healthier and strengthens your odds.
It’s that last part that really convinces even my muscular, overworked Inner Sceptic. I strongly believe that I got published because I work damn hard and I’m willing to learn. Discipline and teachability (in other words, the ability to admit I’d made a mistake and do better next time, which is critical if you’re thinking of getting published) are things I have some control over, and they’re incidentally things that up my chances.
I can’t control what happens tomorrow. I really can’t. But I can control how hard I work today, what priorities I set, and I can definitely control whether or not I admit I’m wrong. Those things happen to maximize my chances of having a good career–or, if the writing tanks, they prepare me to do other things.
I don’t honestly expect my writing career to tank. Sure, tomorrow the publishers could decide I’m not a good risk or readers could decide en masse I’m a hack who isn’t worth the cash spent on a paperback. It could happen. But it’s far more likely that if I keep my head about me I will eke out a living by the written word, seeing as how I’ve come this far. And there is a great deal of this that is up to me.
You see, worry is only very rarely about what you’re actually worrying about. Just like anger is most often about perceived or real helplessness, a lot of worry revolves around control. (Which is, I guess, another response to perceived or actual helplessness.) Realizing that is a huge component of worrying well and effectively instead of flailing around at three in the morning, exhausting yourself and just generally being an idiot.
So now I have to go worry well over these revisions. The book doesn’t suck as much as I thought it might. Then again, I’m only halfway through and there’s plenty of time for things to go wrong…
…or really, really right.
See what I mean?
Over and out.
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Tags: about me, editing makes one cranky, nattering, what we know is true
April 20th, 2010 at 11:01 am
Thank you. This really rings true for me, but I’ve never really thought about it this way before. Maybe this will help.
I’m a compulsive worrier who also grew up being aware of and taking care of other people’s needs first. I never thought the two might be connected… but yes, as hard as it can be to admit it, I guess it is a control issue. I want to believe that if I worry about it, I can make things turn out the way I want them to. It’s so hard to let go of that.
April 20th, 2010 at 12:08 pm
You have great skills, and you will do well. Some days, you just have to give yourself permission not to worry about everything, like the pick what you worry about concept.
You are a fabulous writer, and you will have a very long career doing it.
April 20th, 2010 at 12:28 pm
Did L tell you that Jim Butcher called you out as one of the authors that he reads? He likes the Jill Kismet series specifically. I’d bet that with all those people in the audience, if they weren’t reading you before, many will be checking you out.
So I don’t think the writing career is going to tank any time soon….
Keep your chin up! Only worry about things you can actually do something about, the rest isn’t worth the effort, let them go.
April 20th, 2010 at 2:49 pm
I can honestly say you’re one of the best damn writers I read. Every bit of your work shows that you love your work and the care you put into it is astronomical. All of your work shows the same amount of dedication. There is just no way that the pubs will decide to drop you. Of course, I guess that means we the readers benefit from your worry. hmmm…
April 20th, 2010 at 8:37 pm
I love your books and certainly hope that your career continues for a good long time.
You keep writing and I will keep buying.
April 21st, 2010 at 8:24 am
Worry not, Lili. For not only are you a fabulous writer who is sure to have a viable career for as long as you choose (And I know, I know. You will doubt that ’til your dying day…), but you have people like me around. “An amateur writer talking out of her arse?” you ask? Oh, no. Deadly vipers who thwack ex’s upside the head with paperwork in the name of the wonderous and lovely constructs of jurisprudence to ensure the lil’uns live in the lap of luxury they deserve. *sinister grin*
But, of course, I jest.
Your drive and your gift will ensure a wonderful life for yourself and your loved ones. You will always worry. It’s just in your nature. But worry more about writing fast enough to satisfy us – your loyal readers. We will always be there to consume your creations and delight in the wonderful worlds you create.
April 24th, 2010 at 2:13 pm
Ah Lili! You’re so real! I think you’ve no worries about writing skill. See, I look forward to your books. Granted I’m not a fan of Jill Kismet series but the others are great – to me. But there are millions who love Jill Kismet, so you don’t need to worry on support there.
I want to write but am too afraid to write. Lots of people want me to continue creating jewelries for them after I resigned from a highly stressful job, but I’m too chicken about that too.
- What if my talent really is only for the few quirky odd people; definitely not much to keep my family eating and sheltered, and forget about health care (yeah, what care?)
- What if I write and it sounds so freaking stupid with my mixed world upbringing? Only to those odd ducks would it have made sense… and I was hoping there aren’t too many odd ducks like me around!
You, on the other hand, have proven your worth. What the heck, if the publishers won’t publish your work, set up a paid series like what you did with Selene? With great teaser marketing and your reputation, I’m pretty sure the fans would buy those as well…. Except if it’s for me, I’d rather pay up front for the whole series.
You’re good… you’re good. Keep up the great stories…. I’m dying waiting for that Steelflower and still sigh with hope to hear about Dante Valentine and Japhrimel. You could just tell me they live, if not completely happily ever after then with quiet satisfaction, comfort, excitement and fun.
Thanks for this blog about your insecurities. It makes me feel somewhat normal!
April 27th, 2010 at 4:03 am
I find that I worry about things in the past! Isn’t that ridiculous??? I actually worry myself into a horrible gum disease called ANUG
But I’m trying to be better.
Thanks for this. I so needed it, right now.
April 27th, 2010 at 8:40 am
Worry well. It seems so simple, and yet…
Thanks for the inspiring thoughts. Some wise words here.