I Was Afraid of My Printer
Like the title suggests, a few months ago I found myself dealing with an intense fear of using my printer. This was a result of a new fear of my computer in general. There were hackers, thieves, spies, tapped into my electronics with the intent of stealing my precious unpublished manuscripts. Unlikely and a bit egotistical, I know, but I really believed my books were worth more than my credit cards and my social security number, that some hacker was going to try and publish the work that I had just spent the last year trying to get an agent for and somehow succeed or that AI was reading it and would generate it word for word for someone prompting it to write them a “transgender dragon fantasy with a one-armed knight”. My books are my pride and joy after all and I put way too much of my self worth into them.
When my husband asked for a printed copy of one of my manuscripts, I found myself facing that anxiety, that printing my books would send them to the vast internet somewhere floating around for anyone to read, or copy, or steal, be that a person or an AI.
This was the moment I realized something had to change, that I had fallen too deep into an OCD* spiral.
New medication, a break from querying and writing in general, and a reevaluation of what "success" truly means to me, led me here. I’ve been afraid of posting in the past, terrified of the concept of writing a blog, convinced that an imperfect social media presence would tank my chances of being traditionally published. So caught up in intrusive thoughts and what ifs, I silenced myself. I had just spent a year being rejected, over and over again, I couldn’t handle messing up on a blog or a post or a newsletter. I was horrified of embarrassment, that somehow being imperfect would destroy me.
But with the rise of AI, I think it’s more important now than ever before to be brutally authentic…even if that means being messy, or missing a typo, or using questionable grammar, or confessing on the internet that you think your books are so good they're worth being stolen!
There was more going on, of course. My mental health has been a lifelong struggle and unfortunately (or fortunately) my writing is directly impacted by it. This time, it did not lead me to write gut wrenching friendship breakups or dramatic death scenes. This time, I started to hate writing. I couldn’t sit at my computer without feeling dread. I felt hopeless. That nobody wanted to read my books and that there was no point if I was just going to be competing against people using AI to edit their stuff or even write for them. I wanted to give up. Forgetting how much I enjoyed writing, I just wanted to be published. I could rest and have fun when I finally got my book deal. But book deals are not guaranteed. And I didn’t like the idea of a lifetime of misery.
So, welcome to my blog! I plan on just posting my thoughts on different topics, talk a lot about writing, and maybe even share a couple short stories without worrying about likes or followers or an algorithm. Is this exposure therapy? Yeah, kinda. But it’s also me finally coming out of hiding.
Follow along as I pursue publishing, improve my writing, and try to have fun!
:)
*I am diagnosed with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (OCD). Though the fears listed here might sound silly and delusional, they felt very real to me.