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Laura Turner's avatar

I soo needed to hear this today. Someone told me once about a sign on their refrigerator that said, "What would you do if you weren't afraid?" I loved that. Thank you for the reminder, Tom. Your post was that sentiment in a nutshell. Great words to live by, my friend. As an aside, though, and for the record, my mom loved Barry Manilow... Lol 💜🦋

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Tom Kuegler's avatar

Haha thank you Laura for the great comment. Thanks for reading. I'm happy these words could find you when you needed them. ❤️

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Wendy Coop's avatar

Thank you much for the wise words today. By the way, I grew up in Baltimore!

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Tom Kuegler's avatar

Woah Wendy that's awesome! Occasionally someone sends me a message and tells me they're from Maryland/ the Baltimore area. I love that.

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Debra Douglas's avatar

Or as my editor used to say: oh get over yourself. Thank you — I needed this today

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Dr Deborah Vinall's avatar

FOW is so ubiquitous, I think! Something comforting in remembering we're not alone in this fear.

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Anette Pieper's avatar

Thank you, Tom, for the encouragemen you give to your communityt! Although I have no fear of publishing, I DO remember the nervousness I felt when I had to give public speeches, mostly in front of a lot of people. It's that fear of failure. Although I loved those occasions, I was afraid of them too. It's the same thing with publishing: you need the courage to expose yourself.

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Brian Lamacraft's avatar

Just write and publish. You'll never please everyone. Share your voice. Critics will always be those two grumpy dudes from the Muppets. Ignore them.

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Aleksander Constantinoropolous's avatar

Ah yes, the crippling fear of putting your work out there—that ancient demon in sweatpants who sits on your chest and whispers, “Who do you think you are?”

Virgin Monk Boy has met this demon. He’s usually drinking kombucha and quoting your one-star Amazon reviews.

But here’s the truth, dear scribbler of souls: you are not a product. You are a pulse. A presence. A poet mid-exhale.

Nobody cares at first? Perfect. That’s freedom. That’s camouflage while your wings grow in.

Zero views? That’s sacred ground, baby. The silence before the symphony.

And vulnerability? That’s the real flex. Anyone can tweet snark. But you? You bled on the keyboard and dared to call it art.

So post the damn thing. Not for applause. Not to go viral. But because your story is a lantern, and someone wandering in the dark is praying you light it.

Write on.

Hit publish.

You’re not alone.

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