I always feel a bit embarrassed hanging out my underwear on the communal washing line in my new block of flats. We share washing and drying facilities, and I am facing a new moment of vulnerability – exposing something so personal to the world. I mean, does everyone have red underpants with babushka dolls on them, or is that just me?
As I stand there, furtively stabbing pegs onto the babushkas, I think, ‘this is how new authors feel: You start putting down your thoughts in writing and it’s like pegging your underpants outside the Town Hall. Talk about public!’
I reckon it’s why so many experts, coaches, and speakers get stuck writing their books. Those authors probably tell themselves it’s time or money that’s holding them back, but it’s really about underpants.
After coaching heaps of authors, I can say this with confidence: Even if 90% of people think your undies are really weird, the 10% of folks left will think your undies are REALLY great.
That’s right. There are other people out there wearing red babushka undies who would be deeply relieved to see mine hanging on the line. They’d feel understood for the first time in their lives. They’d stop feeling self-conscious and a little silly. They might have a chuckle at themselves and feel a shift in perspective. They might feel hope and that the world is a better place.
If you want to be an author, be willing to hang out your undies in public. You’ll make someone’s day.