I don't know that we ever get over being scared of writing. I've been writing for a long time, and I'm still scared.
Some of my fears are rational (makes them even scarier), and some aren't, like an urban myth someone whispered to you long ago at a campfire, and you don't really want to tell anyone that it still scares you.
There are some fears like wanting it to be as perfect as you can get it, hoping readers like it, hoping you didn't miss anything important, hoping you have the imaginary fuel to complete the story with some amount of inspiration, rather than running out on the third page. Some writer's think that's silly. Some don't.
Then there's that one fear, that you won't make interesting stories. Or that you'll run out of ideas. That's the urban myth that keeps staring at the pen and page trying to make words fit, even when you're blocked, just so you have proof that it won't last forever, that whatever modicum of talent you felt, that others seemed to see, isn't gone forever.
And sometimes those fears come together all at once. Like now, when I've so many stories in my head and I'm afraid I won't finish them all. Like now, when I want to hurry up and write them all at once while I'm still inspired before the block hits that makes me feel relatively useless. Like now, when I want to go to a friend and tell them all of my fears and have them make me believe that I can do what it feels almost impossible to do.
Sometimes it puts the fear at bay. Sometimes the fear just lingers while you do what it feels impossible to do. And you do it scared.
Madam La Zuray
Hello, darlings, I'm Madam La Zuray, author of dirty books you can't help but fall in love with. I bring the hot and the dirty and everything in between, all in a read you can swallow on your lunch hour. No sense in messing around with perfection.