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For what it is worth, my novel was published the year I turned 60. Were there moments when I felt as exposed and vulnerable as the shell-less turtle I described in my journal that year? Yes. Did it kill me? Not yet. Turns out that one way of not giving a fuck is to just say yes to yourself even when it scares you. Also , just keep that horse in front of the cart for as long as you can .

Finally, what about assembling ten essays you really like and seeing how they look together?

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I wrote a book aimed at introverts so I get all this! For what it’s worth I think there are ways to get the word out about your book that are more comfortable for us introverts/homebodies :). There is a lot of stuff other authors do that I give a big nope too.

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Bwah ha ha ha this made me crack up because it’s like everything that I think on an hourly basis now that I have a book coming out. Like I loved writing the book but now people have to read it and it’s horrifying. I can’t give you any advice because what you described is reality. But I think it’s time to write the book. Because even if it’s one panic attack after another, the world needs your voice and you can write a hilarious piece about how terrifying it is. Do it.

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I feel these exact feelings all the time. I'm so an introvert I've considered writing/becoming an author but the spotlight scares me. I want to write not run around publicizing myself. I supposed I have a fear of success. This fear also creeps up when I think about adding value to my newsletters so people become paid subscribers. I feel I don't deserve it or I'm asking too much.

I've only been on substack for a few months but showing up to publish twice a week has been helping me get out of my head and just write and publish. Perhaps focusing on just writing will help you. I understand how you feel though so I know how hard it is.

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Are you inside my head Lisa? Hahaha

Incredibly relatable! Now go write, you will figure out the other things afterwards, I’m pretty sure.

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Write it!!! Don't let that voice go unpublished! It's a fabulous feeling to know you're going to be sitting on a book shelf somewhere! Go...

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I would love to read a book of your essays.

Maybe the performative self is an extension of you (or many yous)--the seed is still there but there’s some amplification so everyone can hear. This may be no great comfort but after you do the first small signing and/or Zoom it won’t get easier but it’ll be a little less daunting.

And aren’t there apps for figuring out what to wear? Apps that connect you to people who will style you based on what you’re like, what you want, what you want to convey.

I’m just saying all of this in service of getting your book of essays. You have something to say. I’m grateful to read it here and on Medium years ago.

Look forward to reading more of it.

P.S. I really felt the Sara Petersen excerpt you shared--the comparison to motherhood is apt. I too thought it was all of these nebulous things that mothering made me (maybe?) wiser about. And it might be that way. But nothing ventured...imagine all of the lessons and truths you’ll be able to share with us afterwards.

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You don’t need a book deal. Unless you find a small house that loves you, a traditional publisher is useless. This is a true golden age for small presses; if you use one, you likely don’t need an agent. But why not do it yourself using, say, Vellum? Super easy. And it’s not luck or whatever with agents. They’re seeking. (Apps like Vellum make agents unnecessary, so, yeah, agents are eager to find clients.) (But agents always, inevitably work for the publisher. They need the publisher more than they need you.) my somewhat disorganized 2.5 cents.

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