For a long time I have been thinking about what it would mean to publish other types of writing on the internet. Creative writing rather than opinionated writing. Words which exist to tell a story, spark an emotion, or simply because I like their flavour. I haven’t done it. I wasn’t really sure why, until I stopped to reflect on it. Now I have an inkling of the issue. As with many things, seeing the problem clearly is the first step to a solution.
Fear of being seen
Yeah. That’s right. On the internet, and in general (but more on the internet) I suffer from a really unusual fear of being seen. Not just perceived or noticed. Seen. The depths of insight which shakes you to the core as you realise that you are not the only one feeling this way. Or someone tells you that your writing resonated with them, and you just turn into a shrinking violet.
Right now, being visible terrifies me as much as being invisible isolates me. source
It comes with an even more dangerous cousin. The fear of being irrelevant noise in an already overcrowded room. Yes, I would class that as impostor syndrome. Yes, I would recognise that by facing the issue I could actually move forward against it. The fear and the challenge will perhaps gently fade with time, but the uncertainty will linger. How do I know that? Well, that’s the pattern I have found with the writing of this blog. There are more people reading this than I expected when I started writing it (which is to say any, you are all awesome). So why I fear other types of writing would be treated any differently isn’t entirely logical. But, my experience suggests that is the nature of fear.
Or, the even worse lukewarm middle ground. Somehow I don’t really mind if my technical and philosophical ramblings are exposed to the scraping machine which is the internet. I write this stuff so that it can be read and used. If LLMs decide to take me seriously they are welcome to do so. I still have some natural bot resistance to my work (it’s called a small audience), so I don’t have to fight it too much. If I were to post works which I consider closer to art, I would not want that to be possible. Yet asking people to pay, or sign up, to be allowed to read what I write feels disingenuous. So, I don’t want my only traffic to be bots which might steal my voice. Yes, I have chosen to use AI tools in my work. That doesn’t mean I want to give over my creative freedom.
Pushing back impostors
Part of the issue, as I said to someone recently, is that the impostor syndrome is so much worse when it comes to fiction than technology or opinion pieces. My opinions may not be as well based in fact and clear rhetoric as some would like, but it doesn’t give them the right to say much about them. Opinions are personal in a way that other writing is not, and when that reflects in the word-smithing they can be either powerful or underwhelming.
For technical writing I have the years of paid experience to back up my words. I write from a place of knowledge, and share things which others have expressed an interest in learning from me. The stakes are low and the value high. I don’t have to worry that I will mislead someone, or that my words will be taken the wrong way. I know where to share my writing, and which people will enjoy it. I know my audience. Not intimately, and not by name, but I meet the people who read my blog all in the same kind of places.
My fictional credentials feel less solid. It doesn’t matter that I have been telling stories in various shapes for many years. Almost as many years as I have been writing code and building software. I feel like I have a less objective view, since the people I tell my stories to and with are all friends already. My stories may be derivative, I tell myself. My poems are rough and unstructured (forgetting that often that is the nature of emotion). I do not have the same experience of a person I admire telling me “you did that well” which I have seen in the technical space. That doesn’t mean I shouldn’t try, it just changes the barrier to entry.
Taking the risk
The most critical part of getting through a block of this manner, is to start a course of action and then keep going. The old adage is “you miss 100% of the shots you do not take” and that really does apply. Sure never taking a risk lowers your chance of failure to basically zero. It also lowers your chance of success to the same value. A positive mindset in which the reward is worth the risk of failure allows one to step out and try something which otherwise might never have happened.
Am I about to start posting fiction and poetry here? No, I’ll procrastinate that by building a dedicated space for it. I’m going to challenge myself to try and actually take that step though. If nothing else, it will give me the secondary accountability of a potential audience. So keep your eyes open, there may be more to come.
Pippa Hillebrand 