I am as capable of fear as the next man. Snakes, enclosed spaces, the wrong end of a firearm, abandonment ... I am capable of being afraid. It's a long and well-nourished and sometimes quite sensible habit. I am the Vishnu of my life -- the preserver ... it is a habit I have learned (a little) not to disdain or fear.
When I write -- as at this moment -- I am really quite serious and intent. Anything goes. Nail it to the cross!
But when I finish writing, one of the most imposing fears that arises is this:
What if someone else believed it?
What if I did?