Congratulations-but you're still not free of those night terrors. You get an agent, an editor, and a publisher. There is always a black place in your mind where a little gremlin is whispering, “You're not good enough for anyone to want to read your writing. Who'd ever want to read anything you write? Many of us get about two-thirds of the way through a manuscript and despair about it ever coming together. Whether you're aspiring to finish your first book, a debut author, or an old workhorse like me (my sixth novel, Folly Cove, was just published), I bet you suffer from the same night terrors I do-fears that may drive you to quit, as Orly suggested in her recent post. Still, none of this compares to a writer's fears. And, if I'm dumb enough to visit a haunted house attraction with my kids, like that Ripley's Haunted Adventure in Myrtle Beach where they have an actual clown chasing visitors with a chain saw, it might be weeks before I get a good night's rest. If my husband's out of town, you can bet I keep a light burning. Pumpkinhead, a face peering at me through the window or at the side of the bed. As soon as the lights were turned off, I'd lie on my back and stare at the ceiling, afraid of turning over because I was so certain I would see, if not Mr. Yet, there he was, my own bedtime monster, the product of an overactive imagination.įor years, I was an insomniac. Who knows why that strange figure was my chosen metaphor for fear? I had never read The Legend of Sleepy Hollow, and there weren't a lot of scary movies on TV back then. This guy followed us to every house we lived in-a lot of houses, since my dad was in the Navy and we moved every couple of years. Just rocked and rocked, until I screamed for my mother. Maybe that's because, as a young child, I started having waking nightmares about a cloaked figure with a pumpkin head that would regularly appear and sit in a rocking chair beside my bed.
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