Act of Writing

Sometimes I have to remember that writing is a process. I get wrapped up in the idea of being done, of being finished - or at least close to finished - with a book, and I lose sight of the fact that the whole fun of writing a book is the actually writing of it. Of savoring the process, delighting in every new favorite turn of phrase, of figuring out to how to set the scene exactly so. Of having fun with it. 

This book is a monumental one. If you count in all the stops and starts, I’ve literally been “working” on it for the past four years. It amasses ten years of material, and like with Holiday Chick, every single sentence feels crucial. Which is probably why I haven’t technically finished the first draft yet…it feels like that ten years worth of material is already a first draft, and, after spending the last 3 years editing the final stages of two books, it’s hard for me to go back to that infant stage in book writing where it’s necessary to give oneself permission to write crap as long as one is writing. I have to continually talk myself out of going back to the beginning to edit and fine-tune, especially right now, when I’ve spent the last three days stuck on how to begin Chapter 10. Outlines, I’m finding, are easy…it’s figuring out how to jump from one slick stone to the other that feels so difficult. 


But I have a goal, and it’s this: By the time spring finally comes to the hinterlands, I want to be immersed in the writing. I want to be back in that place where, no matter where I’m at or what I’m doing, I’m eager to get back in front of my laptop and craft more sentences, better scenes. I want to feel filled up, again, with words, with chapters, with creating. This book may take another three years until it’s finally, finally finished - and I may give up again and write a shorter, easier, more fun book before that even happens - but for now, I want to suspend my impatient desire to just get another book out there and instead concentrate - enjoy, revel in - the process. The actual act of writing again.