It’s hard to say for me. I suppose it would be a toss-up between no one finding my writings interesting enough to even so much as give it a go, or that when I finally tackle the story I hope to be remembered by, I’ll royally screw it up in so many ways.
The ‘not being remembered’ fear has crossed my mind more than once >.< I don’t want to just be lost in the endless abyss of faceless writers who are better known for dime-a-dozen canon fodder. If I’m to leave a legacy, I’d rather it be something my children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren can be truly proud of. Thus the fear of royally screwing up the story I hope to be remembered by.
I used to have the fear of never seeing the true beauty in my own work, but then I realized something. The bitter-sweet curse of being truly passionate about your craft is that, in art, there’s no such thing as perfection. There’s always room to improve. There will always be ways you could have done it better, and you’ll always be your own worst critic with your own work.
This was driven home to me by Spirit’s (aka Amenthor) grandfather. In fact, here: http://russellbcross.wordpress.com/landscapes/
If you get the chance, paroose through those watercolors, then scan through the biography. You’ll see he was amazingly talented, with an incredible amount of accomplishments under his name. His paintings have been shown in major art galleries and some are in private collections. He was a well-loved teacher to many budding artists who still remember him fondly to this day. Yet one thing the site won’t tell you is how unhappy he was with his work most of the time. Spirit remembers many times when his aunt had to save paintings and sketches from the trash that were better than good, yet didn’t meet up to Russell’s standards. Even with such a long list of accomplishments, he always seemed to feel like he fell short of what he wanted. It kind of makes me wonder if any truly passionate artist, be it with paint or pencil or words or music, can ever feel happy and satisfied with their own work.