I can write a book (and other things I need to remind myself of)

There are patterns to creative life, ebbs and flows. I’m starting to notice that mine are a little predictable.

I almost never write much during the summer, but as the days slowly start to get a little cooler (or just barely cooler — I do live in the desert after all!) I start to come back to writing, and thinking about writing. This year is no different, but this year I’m looking at my writing through a different lens. I’m feeling ready to get serious about my writing, and my desire to be an author, in a way that I haven’t before.

I’ve often said here on this blog that writing is how I process, and it’s true, but I’m starting to think about my writing as something more than just me processing my thoughts and shouting into the dark. I’m ready for something different — something more polished, professional, published.

Recently, I realized that this will be my fifth year doing NaNoWriMo (is that right? have I really done this that many times?). I have finished three out of four of the times I attempted it. This, and the fact that I’m currently researching the query process for my YA fantasy novel, got me thinking about my writing life and the books I have written.

It was sort of surprising to lay them all out in my mind, finished and unfinished.

There’s the finished rough draft of a Middle Grades Fantasy book that I affectionately call simply “Thomas.”

There’s my e-book, On Creativity, which is a collection of poems, essays, and scenes from my life.

There’s my current WIP (work in progress), a YA fantasy series that is currently three books — one finished and in final edits, a second book that is almost finished and just missing a few key scenes, and a third book that I’m about 20,000 words into.

Then there’s a collection of essays and poems on grief that will likely never see the light of day, or at least not until I’ve lived a lot longer and felt a great deal more.

There’s a very random family drama novel that I completed for NaNoWriMo a few years ago, but even with so many words written it never seemed to really take shape as a story. It kept running off on bunny trails. It’s also likely to be left in an unopened file for years or maybe forever.

Sometimes I wonder if I could really pursue the writing life as a career. I worry that I won’t have enough ideas, that I won’t be able to put out books as quickly as published authors are often required. But, this makes me think otherwise, and it’s not counting the hundreds of thousands of words I’ve written for other people, or the blog posts that keep trickling out of me.

It’s easy to let doubt and fear and insecurity become the loudest voices in the room — super easy. Last night I nearly had a panic attack thinking about NaNoWriMo and feeling entirely convinced that I wouldn’t be able to complete it this year. I can’t do it. I won’t be able to finish. It’s too many words. But, then I look back at the words I have written, the books I have started, the rough drafts I’ve finished, and I’m reminded of a different truth.

I’m not where I want to be in my writing. I haven’t published a book yet and the things I’ve written aren’t at the level I want, but I have come a long way in the past few years.

Maybe you’re at this place too — this place where the distance between where you are and where you want to be feels insurmountable and you aren’t sure if you can get there or if you ever will. That’s the point where I find I need to shift my gaze back, and remind myself how far I’ve come.

This wasn’t the blog post I sat down to write, but it’s the post I needed to write. I needed to put a stake in the ground and say, “I’ve come this far.”

It’s not where I want to be. I still have a long way to go. But, I’ve come this far. I’ve written books — not just one book, but multiples. I’ve written hundreds of thousands of words. I know I can write a book. It might not be a good book. It might not be the book I wanted it to be, but I can write a book and each time I do it I get better at it…or at least I think, and hope, and trust that I do.

So, I’m going to keep writing, because someday I want to look back and say, “Look how far I’ve come since 2019.”

Grace and peace,
Bethany