Face Your Fear

Most people say I’m brave – I’ve travelled solo through Brazil, crawled into ancient burial tombs in the dark, broken a publishing contract and returned my advance to go indie, interviewed Guns ’N Roses, Foo Fighters and Metallica, and worked out with Jillian Michaels…

But there’s one fear that still cripples me and holds me back ­– I’m desperately afraid of speaking in public. It’s why I’m a writer, I think, because I hate talking.

My fear is a physical thing. I break out in a cold sweat. My stomach knots. I can’t breathe properly. I feel sick. I unconsciously wring my hands. My face goes red. My voice comes out in a shaky whisper.

Speaking in public is one of the most common fears, but that doesn’t make it any easier to deal with. It’s not logical either – I can interview actors, directors, rock stars and authors no problem, if it’s one-on-one, but a Bon Jovi press conference completely freaked me out. The minute I have to stand up in front of a group, I am assailed by the physical manifestations of my fear.

Want to be interviewed for TV about your novels? “Thank you, but no, I couldn’t do it.”

Can you run a workshop based on your book? “No way, I’m too shy, sorry.”

How about doing a talk about writing and publishing? “Wish I could, but no.”

Who will do a presentation on their favourite faerytale at our conference? Bows head and scurries quickly away.

Lovely supportive writer friends have been encouraging/pushing me to speak and share what I’ve learned with people for years, but I just can’t do it, even though I know it will open up new opportunities for me, and actually help people who are just starting out.

It’s not that I haven’t tried to get over it. A while ago I did a course on how to overcome fear – but I was the only one in the group who didn’t succeed. I signed up for Toastmasters, but when I regretfully couldn’t make the first meeting, I totally lost my nerve. I even agreed to be part of a panel on indie publishing with some of my Story Queens friends – but the event was cancelled the day before it was scheduled. (I was relieved, of course, but also bitterly disappointed that I’d come so close to finally facing my fear.)

It felt like every single person except me could speak in public, and I was mortified by that, and frustrated with myself. Especially when I go to events and realise I have more experience than a lot of the speakers, and could have offered the audience so much, if only I could be as brave as the people who do speak. (I can’t tell you how much I admire them!)

Then a month ago I got a Facebook message from someone late one night, asking me to be on a panel at an indie writers conference in Sydney. I don’t know why, but I typed back that I was terrified – but yes, I would do it. Then I hit send before I could change my mind!

In the lead up to it, I mostly managed to push away all the stress and fear, because I figure there’s no point worrying about something until you actually have to. I had the odd moment of lying in bed freaking out, wondering what I’d done by saying yes, and wanting to change my mind, but I didn’t.

Then the day dawned, and I was pretty terrified, but surprisingly not quite as badly as I’d expected. It helped that my sweet hubby was coming with me to hold my hand (literally, as he reached over and took my hand when he saw how my nerves were increasing throughout the speaker before me’s session…), and that I’d become so sick of my failure at this that I wanted to do something to change it.

I think it also helped that I’d been taking small steps. Last year I joined the Australian Fairy Tale Society, which was a big thing for me. Every month or two we meet up to sit around a table together and drink tea and chat about a specific faerytale. Before my first meeting I was so scared I almost didn’t go. I spent a few days studying the story and its various versions, as well as the amazing notes, articles, discussion points and resources that our incredible ring maiden and organiser Jo Henwood prepares for us for each faerytale.

When it came time for me to speak, I felt a little sick, and faint, and shaky, and wondered if I would pass out. I took a deep breath though, and hesitantly answered a question. My voice trembled, and was very quiet, and a few times I anxiously scanned the notes I’d written while I studied, but I got through it, and it’s become a tiny bit easier each time. (I discovered later I was the only one who actually read all the material, and I still do it, because I need to be prepared. I envy those who can speak about anything off the top of their head, but it’s not me. I’m still scared my mind will go blank and I’ll forget everything I wanted to say…)

Fast forward to November’s Sydney Indie Con, which was far more intimidating. Rather than a few people sitting around a table together, it was in a small auditorium set up with rows and rows of seats for the audience, and a lectern and chairs for the speakers up the front, under the lights. My nightmare come to life!

Authors Rebecca Lang and AA Warne, who dreamed the event up, were so sweet and welcoming, and it was great to meet them in real life – it turns out Rebecca and I have dozens and dozens of mutual friends, including English novelists, Australian witches, advocate mates, artists and travellers, and a shared connection with magical Glastonbury. All the other speakers were lovely and encouraging too, and there were Tim Tams and cups of tea…

So, did it all go smoothly? Did my fear miraculously leave me? Of course not.

When I nervously stood up to make my way to the front of the room to speak for the first time (I’d been put on two panels, eek!), the organiser announced that one of the other panellists had unexpectedly had to leave, which meant I would have to talk for longer. Double eek! And I almost tripped over on the way, so I was already blushing and sweating and freaking out, before it even began.

I finally managed to sit down next to wonderful, confident and accomplished historical author Elisabeth Storrs, and our interrogator – I mean convenor – Rebecca, and looked out at all the people. I was feeling a little shaky, nervous about the topic (hybrid authors), and must admit I did wonder if it was really too late to back out. Hint: It was.

But I composed myself as best I could and answered the first question – and another one of my nightmares came true. Someone up the back called out “We can’t hear you,” and I blushed bright red and thought, “Oh my god, I can’t do this.” But I had to. So I took a deep breath, gazed out at the audience and tried again, and this time my shy little voice was loud enough, just.

It’s strange – it feels like it all passed in a blur, yet I remember every shaky second. Most importantly, I survived! I talked about breaking my publishing contract, and all the amazing things that came from that (complete with props of some of those things, like the seven mini books I could make from Seven Sacred Sites, because the rights are all mine), as well as signing with a Japanese publisher for Mermaid Magic, and some of the things I’d learned from that. And slowly the thirty minutes passed, and I could run away and hide for a minute, and try to compose myself for the next panel.

At least I now knew that I would survive, so that was a good place to start, ha ha! I was also a little more confident about this topic (marketing), and was speaking alongside my cosy mystery writer friend Dionne Lister, so knowing each other’s strengths, we were able to talk about different aspects and offer lots of practical information to everyone there, with Rebecca adding her perspective too. The feedback on this one was that people got lots of great info, which is all I was worried about, so I was happy with that. (I also got to answer the question “Have you done anything that was scary?” with THIS!)

My sweet hubby filmed a little bit for me, so when we got home I watched it, and it was quite confronting, and very strange, to see myself speaking. I didn’t sound as nervous as I actually was, and I was surprised by how much I laughed, and how often I waved my hands around. (I’ve noticed news reporters do that, and I always wondered why. Guess they’re nervous too!)

I was so relieved when a couple of people said I’d done really well, and also surprised by how many people said they could never do it. I thought I was the only one who was so scared!

For those who are nervous, but brave enough to say yes, one thing that really helped me was being prepared. In the lead-up I brainstormed all the things I could discuss for each topic, and thought about what information I could offer people that would be useful. The night before, I read it all again, and wrote down a few bullet points so I had them with me just in case. I only glanced at the list once, but my greatest fear was always that I would freeze and totally forget what I was going to say, so it helped to know I could remind myself if need be.

I also skim read Joanna Penn’s book Public Speaking for Authors, Creatives and Other Introverts, which is full of tips and encouragement. The thing that helped me the most was her reminder that it’s not about you, it’s about giving the audience what they want. Taking the pressure and focus off me helped immensely, and I got very enthusiastic about all the things I could share with people to help them on their writing journey, rather than being self-conscious that people were focused on me.

So, will I do it again? I hope so. It was hard and a little awful, but I’m really glad I did it, and grateful to Rebecca for inviting me, and giving me the chance to face my fear. And if I am invited to speak again, I will definitely consider it, and I hope that I will say yes, rather than immediately saying hell no…