Coffee Shop Musings

Hello my lovelies!

I went to write at a coffee shop for the first time in August and then I recently went and wrote with a friend at the Panera Bread in our local mall.

I’m not going to lie- the experience was a strange one for me. I have written in many different places before, scattered throughout my house, at parks, at other friends’ houses. But I’ve never gone somewhere so public and worked on something so personal. 

I didn’t realize that I held my writing so close until I started delving into its world somewhere other than a friend’s living room or the bedroom I pretend doubles as my office; even the libraries I've written at felt different because of the homey connection I have to them. It was so weird to take my main character with me somewhere that wasn’t “safe.”

I sat in the Panera Bread and watched people walking by- people who I didn’t know and who didn’t know me. They were in their own little worlds; rushing to tasks they hoped to complete, chatting easily with those with them, happy, sad, indifferent. And there I was, trying to write the scene in which Cinderella does in fact get to go to the ball but trying to make it fit into the science fiction setting I had already established for this world.

It was then that I realized how vulnerable I am when I write. How personal the very act of writing is for me. I can talk about my stories to anyone who wants to listen- and even some who don’t, like my poor parents at times- but I don’t often write in the presence of people I don’t know. And for me, that act was a growing experience I didn’t know I needed.

I’m an introvert. While I strive to not let that word define me I make no secret of the fact that being in public drains me. And to add to that working on something so personal was an added layer of something I wasn’t quite prepared for.

And it got me thinking. Someday this story isn’t going to be just mine anymore. I won’t be able to control who reads it, to limit it to the one trusted friend who is kind enough not to point out its flaws because I’m not ready to hear them yet.

But someday I have to be. I want to share this book with the world and I can’t even handle writing it somewhere other than my bedroom. I want people to read it and love it but I realized I’m really, really scared of people hating it.

This is my baby. This is a story born out of a game I played as a child, alone in my basement with a broken electronic typewriter and a wild imagination. It’s a story I set aside as nothing more than a game until last January I realized I could make it something more.

It was then that it turned into a Cinderella retelling, the premise and characters given a plot that actually made sense and included more than just the main character jamming buttons on the radio yelling important information; though that did make it into this version, in case you’re wondering. I finished the rough draft by the end of February and started editing it in July. At the end of August I figured out some major changes I needed to make and started draft three this September.

My characters have grown and changed throughout these edits. El has become more complex than I could have ever imagined, growing into her own person rather than a version of myself I created for the purpose of play. The supporting characters have also all taken on lives of their own- the captain, the pilot, the medic, the security officer. I didn’t even originally plan on some of them being a part of this story but they grew into it naturally, created to fit roles as they appeared.

My plot has expanded into one I actually find exciting (and my plot-driven bestie even approves of!) and the politics of my world are messy and complicated in all the right ways- an area I always struggle with.

I’m proud of this world. Proud of this plot. Proud of these incredible people who call themselves my characters.

I feel like this might be the one. This draft might actually be good enough to let other writers read and critique. From there I might actually hire someone to edit it and then work toward publishing it. This could be it. By this time next year I could be tracking my sales to see how many copies of this book I’ve sold.

And I don’t even want to write it somewhere unfamiliar.

I don’t like being vulnerable. I know what people see when they look at my writing; I am an idealist and a romantic and it shines through so brightly in my stories. Are people going to judge me for that?

I let my own insecurities hold me back. I judge myself so I assume everyone else will judge me too. I feel like people can read my mind, can see inside of me to my weakest, ugliest parts. My mask slips when I write. Things show through that I never meant to let people see. My writing and I are one, my stories an extension of myself, my insecurities, and my dreams.

I want people to read my stories without seeing that. I want them to see fiction and disregard the facts. I don’t want people to judge me. Or, if they are going to see something personal, I want people to read it and see the heart of the little girl who played in the basement with her big, big imagination and see how far she’s come. I want this book to be as special to other people as it is to me.

But it can’t be. It shouldn’t be. No one else is that little girl in the basement and so this story can never mean the same things to them that it does to me. It has to mean something different, something unique to them and their own experiences.

And that’s okay. As much as I don’t want to admit it, it’s okay if people come at my story from different perspectives and view it through their own lenses.

I think I’m ready. Ready enough to push past my vulnerability and prepare to share this story with the world. I can only hope the world is ready for it. But if not, that’s okay too. And it isn’t a judgement on me. My job is to put my stories into the world and trust there’s a plan for whatever happens to them that I don’t need to be in control of.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a Cinderella retelling to write.

I hope to see you on Friday for another review. I'll be taking a break from the Princess Tales series to share something special with you and I hope you'll check it out. Until the next time we meet, don’t forget to live happily ever after <3

~Jennifer Sauer, the Ivory Palace Princess

P.S. Let’s chat! What are some ways in which you feel vulnerable with your writing? What are some ways you have of dealing with these insecurities?