I’m writing. I have an idea, I hashed out a few character details, realized my theme was already falling into place, and worked out a (very) rough outline of my first “act.”

It feels terrible.

I like my idea, and in my head I can see a finished novel. But everything I write is crap and I have no idea where I’m going beyond the first few scenes. I don’t have an antagonist- or rather, I do, but it’s a weak one and I know it. I have no idea how I’m going to get from my the crap I’m putting on paper to a finished first draft.

But you know what? It’s okay. I’ll figure it out along the way.

I’m not stopping. I’m doubting the hell out of myself, out of my idea, out of my writing skills, but I’m not stopping. It’s just not a choice. I’m not reading anything I’ve written- that will come later- but I am sitting down each weekend day and putting at least 500 words down. It’s not a lofty goal, but it’s what works for my lifestyle.

I’d be lying if I said I was doing this as a hobby. I am, of course I am, but I also want it to go somewhere. I want to be an author, I want to be published. And self-publishing will be a great option if it comes to it, but what I really want (what I think most aspiring authors want) is to be picked up by a traditional publisher. That’s probably why I think what I’m writing is so bad. I’m holding my fresh-out-of-my-head first draft crap up to a finished novel and going “Well shit, this isn’t nearly as good.” Well, and because it is crap. The dialogue is weak, the narration is all over the place, the stakes are far too low… but it’s okay. It’s all okay. It’ll be fixed in time, as I learn.

And I will. I’ve never done any of this and I have to keep reminding myself that. Every time I pick up my notebook and a pen, every time I add an idea to my iPhone note, every time I sit down to type my 500 words, I’m learning.

This novel will be finished because stopping isn’t an option that I’m giving myself. It’ll probably suck, just by virtue of the fact that I’ve never written a book before. But hey, even a sucky book is a book, and I’ll be damn proud when I can print my shitty first draft out so I can edit it.

Overflowing with love,


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