2 | The Writer • January 2020
FROM THE EDITOR
NICKI PORTER
Keep writing,Nicki Porter
Senior Editor
@nickimporterNew year, old fear
The start of a new year can bring as many anxiet-
ies as it does possibilities. Will this really be your
year, the year you eat all the kale, write all the
words, and run all the miles? Will you really call
your grandmother every week and never, ever
lose your temper? Is this the year of the big pro-
motion, the dream relocation, or the finished
novel? In short: Is this the year your dreams come
true? Or – gulp – is it the year you start strong
but fall short?
The start of a new decade can multiply all
these anxieties by 10.
I think about fear a lot, both as a writer and as
a human. I have to, because if I’m not careful, it
will run my life. I may not be smarter than the
average bear, but I’m a hell of a lot more anxious
than your average writer, and sometimes it’s eas-
ier to let Fear take the wheel. See, when Fear
drives, you tend to stay in your lane. You drive
the same safe roads you’ve always driven. It’s
kind of nice, circling that familiar loop. The
scenery never changes.
And neither do you.
Writers can’t really grow if they see the same
stuff all the time, circling the same material like
suds circle the drain. Our work can’t reach new
heights if we never stretch our arms into the
unfamiliar. But I’ve learned my fearful heart
doesn’t panic at the sight of the unfamiliar. It
could care less about the horrors outside the
window. No, my fear – and a lot of people’s, I’d
wager – rests more in the internal than theexternal. It’s not a promotion’s workload but the
concern that I can’t handle it. It’s not a big move
but rather the suspicion that I’m not strong
enough to adapt. It’s not the revision itself but
the worry that I can’t fix the problem.
I don’t fear the mountain, I fear the climb.
So I don’t tend to make many New Year’s reso-
lutions. I have enough inner wars waging over my
long-term goals without worrying over my daily
dark chocolate intake. But this year, I am making
a New Decade resolution. It’s as simple and as dif-
ficult as anything I’ll ever promise myself, and if
you’ve hunted around for a resolution this year
and come up empty, I’d encourage you to take up
the same:
I will finally write the story I’ve been afraid to
write.
Every single person has a story we’re afraid to
tell. But these are the stories that must be told.
These are the mountains that we need to climb.
So, dear reader, promise to grab Fear by the collar
with both hands in 2020. Haul him out of the
driver’s seat. Take your rightful place behind the
wheel and start driving. It may take a year, and it
may take 10. It’s your journey, and only you know
how long it will take. Just know you’re firmly on
the path you’re meant to be on. And when you
see Fear hitchhiking ahead in the distance, keep
both eyes on the road and speed right by. Leave
him in the dust where he belongs. Rip out the
rearview and drive on – and when your story is
published, no one need ever know he was there.