Bravery comes in all shapes and sizes. There’s the big Prince Arthur sword-wielding warrior variety, and then there’s the quietly-in-the-background-doing-magic-under-pain-of death Merlin variety. That example was completely random and had nothing to do with any sort of Merlin obsession whatsoever. Nor was it an excuse to include a beautiful photo in this post. Honest…
Sometimes bravery is nothing more than stepping out of your front door when you feel like the whole world is against you. Or self-publishing a book when you’re terrified that, at best, no one will want to read or, at worst, they’ll read and then tear it apart in a scathing review.
However it comes, you can’t have a hero without it. The most boring heroes I’ve ever encountered in a work of fiction are those with no fear. How can you be glorious and courageous if nothing scares you? How can you command the respect and awe of others if you’ve no terrors to overcome. There’s no emotional risk in that, even if the physical risks are still present, and emotional risk is what moves the receiver of the story.
Eleanor Roosevelt said: ‘Do one thing that scares you every day.’ I love that advice.
So, be scared, dear reader, be scared so that you can be brave. Step out that door, wield that sword, flash that magic. Put your book out if the story burns to escape the confines of your mind. Give us the tale of your terrified hero, the one that will face their fears and be all the more glorious when they finally do.
I, for one, can’t wait to hear it.