As I’ve been going over the edits of my book, writing the back page blurb, getting the quotes, working on the subtitle, I’m now getting those doubts that I had when I wrote my newspaper article. What if it just dies when it’s published like an old azalea bloom in the summer heat?
That same feeling of panic is creeping up on me. And that dread, what if no one reads it? What if I put this out there and it’s like I have to bury his memory like I had to bury him?
Will people think it’s not worth reading because it’s about death? Is the story of my son’s suicide too ugly, too dark or too much? Will anyone ever come to the book signings or will I be sitting at a table with a pile of books that gather dust? Will my book end up in the bargain bin a month after publish?
I don’t want to admit this to all of you or publish this post. I don’t want to confess this internal doubt. Instead, I want to put on a façade and fake like I’m totally confident the hardest thing I have ever written is not going to bomb but instead be a huge blockbuster.
No one is immune to self doubt. And the more I put myself out there, the more risk I take for colossal failure. Time to take a deep breath.