I copied and pasted to my phone a recent quote from Aaron Sorkin regarding The Newsroom: "It'll be my 165th episode of television ... and I've come to realize that it's only being scared to death that gets it done." Such comfort in that ... and certainly in the wonder of it all ...

For me writing’s a work with massive responsibility of some unknown field, unseen. But I would like to say that while running this distance of fear there’s also wind to your face, that you're not necessarily aware of from the start. Actions lead to reactions. So if you started to fear, then you must have made some crucial step deep inside yourself BEFORE. I mean you have DECIDED to write, which brought all that fear into your consciousness. Fear is the next step after yours, and now it’s your turn again.

When you could submit for the quest I hesitated a lot. What if I get selected but can't live up to the expectation my logline created. So I was glad I wasn't chosen. Silly isn't it. In the meanwhile I participate in the 'Go on your own quest'. I keep in mind that I must write a lot before I reach a certain professional level. The common rule for every mastery is ten years of full dedication. I've set out my first steps and I don't mind if I fail. It's one step closer to my goal. But I'm also glad I'm not in the lime light of The Quest. I can work in my own darkness and one day that will brighten up.

Shari, I felt a lot like that last year. Can completely identify. But moreso last year than this year, so my experience, keep writing, it lessens. "It beckons you with a daunting whisper. It mocks you with its dull emptiness. It freezes your soul with its ice cold whiteness. It is – the blank page!" I have found uncovered its nemesis- doodles!

Shari, I felt a lot like that last year. Can completely identify. But moreso last year than this year, so my experience, keep writing, it lessens. "It beckons you with a daunting whisper. It mocks you with its dull emptiness. It freezes your soul with its ice cold whiteness. It is – the blank page!" I have uncovered its nemesis- doodles!

And double posting works too....Grrr.

I empathize with the fear of not living up to expectation but not fear of the blank page. We can get carried away with that and blow it totally out of proportion. It's a romantic idea, isn't it, the artist suffering for their craft, the enormity of the artistic endeavor? In the recent book Mindset, the author talks about a lifelong difference between those who fail and those who succeed. Those who fail work from a place of ego protection, never pushing themselves into new territory, always protecting themselves by staying where it's safe, and they'll argue to the death defending their point because it is their protection. The ones who succeed are more in hungry love to learn and test themselves. They'll continually ask for more challenging puzzles and physical tasks. They're strange creatures who briefly register failure but move on because they're anxious for what's next. King, Sorkin, Wilder, everyone making it to a pinnacle of some kind may ask how they can possibly handle the fear, but that's in the past. They had a greater force pulling them forward. Those who romance the fear are the ones who are forgotten. There's also age and the accumulation of experience. With time, everything becomes less dramatic as bigger fears have been faced. There is no way of avoiding those fears. Some rush into fear willingly. It was the words of one of those personality types that set me straight years ago in a watercolor painting class (once pigment is down in WC, there's no going back). He was a fireman, and as the rest of the class hesitated making that first mark on paper, he said, "Oh, for God's sake. My life is on the line daily, and I drag burning bodies out of buildings as I pray I got there in time. I'm going to let a piece of paper bully me?" With him around, we all did our best work. None of us are getting out of this thing without regrets. We will fail, we will make fools of ourselves, we will forget to tell someone we love them and then get the news they've died. We will disappoint ourselves and others, we will make truly tragic errors from which there is no recovery. We need to chose our regrets wisely. This is a Quest, a questioning. Love the living daylights out of it. Flip off that LF that sits on our shoulders and blow away its dust. No child has ever turned their back on a piece of paper while they're up to their elbows in finger paints, and they're quite bold in telling lies. We unlearn that sense of adventure and discovery, forget the tingle of wondering if we'll get away with it. That blank piece of paper is the place to learn what you already know. Go ahead and make a mess. Turn the question into an adventure, undaunted by what works and what doesn't. You work and that's all that matters. And watch out for choosing the drama of fear over the adventure of discovery...the elephant's name is Dumbo.

'Our greatest fear is not that we are inadequate, our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.' ..maybe also there is a the possibly that some people fear being good at it, also. I'm not saying that applies for me, but it's just a thought.

@ Cyd M I love your firefighter's words. I absolutely walk with fear, but I'm fighting it. If it bullies, I bully back (more often now). Poke it with a stick. Watercolours are a forgiving medium. If you make a mistake you can mop it up... Not unlike writing. If you don't like something, you can rub it out. Cut, copy, repaste, edit, delete, rehash. And if all else fails, as the BB twitter feed mentions today, there's the ultimate writing tool- the wastebasket. And sometimes we even write something good. :-)

Perhaps oddly, I've never found the blank page at all frightening. As a kid, I delighted in new scribblers! I love the smell of a newly-opened ream of paper. I used to breath a little deeper on the days we actually printed the magazine I edited. It always meant something new and interesting was about to get created! A friend and I, working together on a script, came to near loggerheads about blank pages once. She couldn't even look at the page in the typewriter - yes, I'm old. :) I'd sit and she'd walk into the room talking a scene at me. I'd type whatever she was describing and, by the time I got so far down, she'd take over, but, she couldn't do the blank page thing AT ALL. The concept of 120 blank pages - yes, it was a long time ago :) - completely floored her. She'd sit and shiver in the chair. I feed paper into the backside of her typewriter so she never really got to see a blank expanse of white! Needless to say, she drove me nuts. :) We did bust the guts out of that fear though. Do you know what 120 blank pages looks like? Really? 8.5x11" per page. That's 93.5sq" per page, times 120 pages. It's 11,220 square inches, or 77.9 square feet, or 7.24 square meters if you live outside the USA. While there are huge film screens coming out, up to 98' wide and three stories tall, the average indoor cineplex screen was, for years, 30x70 feet, or 2100 square feet. So, the screenplay that we're making? It's, like, 1/26th the size of the screen we hope to show it on! Picture that in your mind's eye! It's this tiny little corner of the screen - that ALL the room you've got to fill that huge space for almost two hours! And when you think about all the WHITE space we've got to leave, and, today, we only get - what? - 110 pages?! Sheesh! How will we ever fit that story in our mind's eye into that TINY little bit of square footage? ;) Years later, many successful years for her, she and I pulled into her driveway and she just sat there and stared at the expanse of her white garage door. "Can we really get a *whole* script on *that*?" I don't know if it will help you to think of ONLY 110 pages, of ONLY 75 square feet, but, it really did help my friend! The vision in your minds is SO much bigger than the page in front of you, you have nothing to fear! Hope you all have a wonderfully productive day!

@TQA...That's exactly the point, we can go back and find a way of fixing it. Often the fix is better than what we started with. The paper can get a little roughed up, but that gives it texture and depth. Believe it or not, I forgot to add something :-) The competition is over. You've already won the focused mentorship of a competent and giving-to-the-point of exhaustion pro who believes in tools not rules. You've already got a bank account of accomplishments to pay any debts you might incur from any disappointments. Ca-ching! But don't fall too deeply in love with the magic that happens between fingers and keyboard. It feels like magic but it's not. It's you and the payoff of everything you've already put into this, the talents you have and your choice to put them to the test. You're in the safest place possible to try new things and stretch and learn new skills, especially the refined skill of making fear your partner. I promise those of us out here are rooting for you and support you through every step and all the ups and downs. Huh, maybe I do live in constant fear but don't realize it because it's become an old friend. Maybe that friend needs to stop riding on my shoulders and give me a good push now and again :-)

I might start calling you Mama CydM. ;) Excellent words ... "No child has ever turned their back on a piece of paper while they’re up to their elbows in finger paints, and they’re quite bold in telling lies." I would also say that they're quite bold in telling TRUTHS, too. Which is the perfect mix for screenwriting, no? Creating some make-believe with raw honesty at its core ...

I'm not sure "fear" is the right word -- maybe it is, but certainly not "terror" -- but I have hesitating feelings nearing the end of a draft. Like prior to typing FADE OUT, I fret and fiddlefart about with worry and doubts and questions over whether or not I've written anything worth anything. Never, though, at the beginning of a project!! I LOVE love love cracking open a new composition book, hovering a pen over the attempting-to-rile-me blank pages and then scribbling away. Same with a blank screen and blinking cursor -- no hesitation, no fear. Only excitement, anticipation, gratitude and a whole host of other positive emotions. Very grateful for this, of course. :-)