THE UNBEARABLE SPITENESS of BEING: DOUBT, FEAR, AND THE HERO'S WAY

Look in the Mirror and See

I really, really need to talk to you. Do you have the time to help me stare into my own soul? …

Thanks, Mirror.

So I spent the last couple of years worrying that my three 2022 Prometheus Awards nominations for Best Novel were all just a big misunderstanding. I kept thinking perhaps they had all accidentally but understandably mistaken me for R. L. Stein instead.

I expected a call from an anonymous benefactor, saying that they would let it slide this time, but just don’t ever let it happen again-

but it happened again:

FROM THE PROMETHEUS AWARD COMMITTEE: Salman Rushdie’s Victory City, C.T. Rwizi’s House of Gold and R.H. Snow’s Trail of Travail: Guide to the 2024 Best Novel nominees, Part 4:

https://www.lfs.org/blog/salman-rushdies-victory-city-c-t-rwizis-house-of-gold-and-r-h-snows-trail-of-travail-part-4-of-our-guide-to-the-2024-best-novel-nominees/

At first, I was very relieved, because this meant that perhaps the nominating committee hadn’t made a mistake after all. But then I made a mistake… I looked at the list of nominees.

Do you realise who these people are? Do you recognise that these stellar minds are the APEX of writing? I mean, just LOOK at them:

~~~~~

• Stephen Albrecht: FUTUREPROOF - Lawyerly London Author, Hiker and SuperDad

• C.J. Carey: QUEEN WALLIS - BBC Journalist, Brilliant Mind and Philip K Dick Award Nominee

• Mackey Chandler: THE LONG VIEW - Blue-collar Bestseller and Renaissance Man

• Devon Erickson: THEFT of FIRE - Software Space Imagineer, Acclaimed Author and possibly a Cat

• Karl K Gallagher: SWIM AMONG THE PEOPLE - Celebrated Rocket Man and Space Opera Purveyor

• Dr. Insensitive Jerk: GOD’S GIRLFRIEND - Meat Lover and Ron Paul/Chuck Norris aficionado aka Gordon Hanka, *not actually an insensitive jerk

• Howard Andrew Jones: LORD OF A SHATTERED LAND - Epic Fantasy Farmer and Harold Lamb Enjoyer

• Naomi Kritzer: LIBERTY’S DAUGHTER - Nonconforming High Performing Author, nominated for Everything

• Paul Lynch: PROPHET’S SONG - Sharp-Dressed Man, Poet and Booker Prize Winner

• Sandra Newman: JULIA - Professor, Prose-Pitcher and George Orwell’s Chosen One

• Salman Rushdie: VICTORY CITY - Nobel Prize Nominee, Word Warrior and SALMAN RUSHDIE ‘NUFF SAID

• C. T. Rwizi: HOUSE OF GOLD - Bestselling WordWeaver and International Man of Mystery

• Daniel Suarez: CRITICAL MASS - New York Times Bestselling Ted Talker

• Steve Wire: BLACK HATS - Cyberpunk Antiauthoritarian Author

• Fenton Wood: HACKING GALILEO - Respected Radio Raider and l33t HaX0r

• Alan Zimm: MISPLACED THREATS - Aviation Guru, Enormous Brain and Hydrofoil Racer

  ~~~~~

I took one look at the Prometheus Awards Best Novel nominee list, and was immediately overwhelmed with the feeling one gets when one looks in the mirror at the mall and realises one forgot one’s pants. I am a Dubble-Wide, and they are a Italian Villa; I am a pair of cowboy boots, and they are an evening gown…

I make up stuff, but they are actual Writers.

Now, I am occasionally a very overconfident person, as in I get involved in things are far beyond my skillset. I started a Volunteer Fire Department, got my Emergency Medical Technician - Basic license, and became a Storm Chaser, all after I turned fifty, just because I didn’t know any better…

we’re just going to ignore what I did in my youth. It's better this way.

Anyhow, after I stir revolutions cause chaos start something new, I inevitably realise I have no idea what I’m doing. But by then it is too late; the void beckons monsters have been summoned people have noticed and I have to make do or die. I haven’t died yet, so we can only assume I have made do. And all this innovation and determination bring about the fruits of our endeavours:

crippling self doubt.

I have no idea what I’m doing.

Now, I know what you are thinking: you are thinking, oh pshaw, that’s not self doubt - that’s reality. And you’re right. You see? This is why all your friends come to you, to talk to you and gather your lovely wisdom. I’m so glad we’re having this little chat.

I sit and wait, really hoping that you will tell me nobody really knows what they are doing… but that would be an abject lie. We both know the truth:

There are people who absolutely know what they are doing, who are not only skilled, and talented, but who are also knowledgeable. They have dreamed, they have planned, they have built an empire and they have a lovely home with doors that don’t stick and floors that self-clean. They know exactly what they are doing , and they have all the confidence in the world because of it.

This is not me. I have the scars to prove it. I am utterly capable of jumping in and doing something completely and astoundingly wrong, but I am so oblivious, I have no idea it won’t work. I just keep putt-putting away, like the little engine that could, and eventually when the smoke clears, I somehow have achieved the impossible;

I have managed to stay alive.

At that point, the ‘catastrophe averted’ overwhelms the original intention of the enterprise; then much to the dismay horror delight of everyone involved they consider me blessed. Which, of course, they are right -

but eventually I uncover the truth. It was the blessing, Angels Unawares, who made the difference. Death avoided by millimeters, lives hanging in the balance, oil not being changed and still the head gasket doesn’t blow…

so too is it with this. I really don’t know what I am doing, I’m just blessed. But these people do know what they are doing, and they are doing it well. Just look at them. LOOK.

Okay, now look in the Mirror.

Look inward and see: the Kingdom not made by Hands, the Empire of Dreams, the Universe of Imagination - the successes no one can see, the victories no one knows. God gives to each of us a certain portion of the spirit of blissful ignorance, to try what we never should have attempted, and the results are secrets one can ever tell. But they are still here, they still count. The scars are reminders; we dared. We failed. We tried again.

DId we win?

If you call Life a win, then yes we did. We lived. We created. We loved, and we shared it with the world…

the near misses still count. The exhilaration of the Disaster that didn’t happen is matched by the Triumph that nearly did.

Far better I should fail, falling short, than to have never tried at all. What is Greatness if it is guaranteed? It is but an entitlement, a promise I did not earn... Courage is not found in the easy gain, but in the hard win, facing down loss. That is the Hero's Way.

I close my eyes, and take a deep breath again. Thanks, Mirror; you don’t lie…

But today, I am no Hero. The Heroes are out there, begging for a reason to keep on being Heroes. They are fighting, dying, trying to make it, to just hang on, to live one more moment - and it all comes down to taking the chance we don’t know we can take, to ride the wave of fear until we crash or come ashore. Sometimes, we don’t know what we’re doing, but we do it nonetheless -

I know how to do that, because I’ve lived it…

and I can write a story about that.