I was re-reading "Travels With Puff", (by Richard Bach) the other night. This is a marvelous travel book full of full color photos of Richard and his ultralight plane, which he named Puff. I got to the chapter where Richard decides, against Puff's judgement, to taxi through some lily pads. Puff says quite distinctly, "Let's don't do the lily pads." But Richard does it anyway. And of course, when they try to take off, there's 30 pounds of lily pads clinging to Puff's tail, making it impossible for them to fly.
     I can't help but wonder? Do you have lily pads keeping you from flying? My personal lily pads are the fear of success. I know that sounds silly, but I think I really do fear being successful as a writer. Already, with only two books out, I have a few (very few, mind you!) people asking for the third, which is only 1/4 of a way finished. This same fear of success is why I've never wanted to sell my knitting or cross-stitch samplers. Part of the problem is, the minute someone is paying me for something, the minute it stops being fun and interesting and creative, and becomes work. There's an old saying, 'do what you love and you'll never work a day in your life.' Um. Well, only in the sense that what I love to do isn't paying the bills!
     But more importantly, if I were to become a success at my writing (a financial success, let me clarify) I'm afraid of how my lifestyle might have to change. I cherish my private time, my quiet house, my dogs and my garden. Would that be compromised if I suddenly (or even gradually) became more well-known? Am I subconsciously sabotaging my own success out of fear?