Maybe, This is Something
On feeling like finally, maybe, I have something here
Something has shifted recently. I’m starting to feel the pulse of this book. How this happened, I’m still trying to figure out myself.
But as I write currently, I can feel it starting to come together.
Some people discuss novel creation as a birthing process. They talk about the way the first spark of the idea is like conception, how you have to then develop, grow and nurture the idea, how there are struggles and doubt (like morning sickness), how you can’t rush the timing, that it grows in its own time. And while I appreciate the metaphor, and would like to feel this inevitable feeling of growing inside me, it’s never felt quite that way.
Writing feels practical. Like something I decided to do. Which is similar to things I’ve decided to do in the past, but then abandoned. Including book writing. There are books behind me that haven’t quite made it to the ‘being the world’ stage, so perhaps I’m just being cautious.
But the past few weeks, there’s been a change. There’s a feeling that somehow, this is going to make its way out there.
It may have happened when I started to gather together all of the pieces of the book into one document, pulling from scenes I’d been working on, to older scenes, to new things I’d written. One day I was idly writing yet another scene, and I checked the word count.
It was nearly 110,000 words — more than 200 pages.
I’m sorry, what?!
[Photo by Greg Rakozy on Unsplash]
People, that is an entire novel already. That’s a longish novel. I’d be happier with a book that’s closer to 70,000 or 80,000 words because I am a big fan of editing, and books and movies that get to the point (except for the BBC version of Pride and Prejudice, which is an hours long masterpiece and not a minute, no, not one minute should be cut).
As I continued to write, and mull over the very fact of all these words, a little self-believing voice whispered.
Maybe this is something.
It was so quiet that it took me a few days to notice. It’s not like the loud inner critic voice(s) that demand attention. This was softer. But the last few weeks, it’s also been persistent.
I feel the deep down truth of that voice.
And what it reminded me of most? The scene in Sex and the City when Miranda first feels her baby kick.
You see, all along she’s been faking a maternal instinct. People are so excited when she says she’s pregnant, and that she’s having a boy, and they start to get all tearful and pumped for her. And she’s just standing there like, yup, I’m pregnant, so there’s that. And then they look at her in horror if she doesn’t show the proper, culturally approved excitement over having a baby. So, she fakes it and gives them a big ole smile and they get what they want.
But she doesn’t really feel it.
Until one evening before bed she’s standing in front of the mirror alone. She feels the baby kick. And there’s this sense of surprise and pleasure, like wow, this is really happening. There’s no one to fake anything for.
[Not the exact image, but imagine she’s looking in the mirror right now and you can kinda see it. Also watch that episode because it is SUCH a good one. But the above episode is also great when they go to Atlantic City (post-baby)]
I’ve told all sorts of people I’m writing a book. Mostly to try out how the words sound coming out of my mouth (they sound true? It seems like something I would do), but there’s also another part of me that issues a little warning at the same time.
You’ve done this before, it says. You’ve tried this and it wasn’t easy. In fact it was so hard, you gave up on it. And you do not like to give up on things.
The fear voice has stopped any real excitement in its tracks. So I smile, and talk book stuff, and try to remind myself of all the work Im putting in. All the while that voice has stalled a possibly essential element to any creative process - belief.
Belief in my ability to get this done. To get over my perfectionism and truly finish it and bring it into the world.
All I can say is that slowly but surely, my belief is this is shifting. Somewhat based on facts, because that’s a whole lot of words and scenes to abandon. But also based on some changing internal narrative that’s questioning the the louder fear-based voices more often.
Honestly, sometimes these other voices get so loud and the feelings so strong along with them, that I still kind of drown in it. But along with that, the softer voice that’s more rational keeps looking forward and reminds me it’s not really about the thoughts, but the actions that are more important.
Let’s hope this new shift continues to stick! Would love to hear from others about when their books/writing started to come together, and what helped them most? Or, are you in another part of the process and still waiting for that to happen?




I'm all ready to throw you a shower! I believe in this book and know that it has a viable heartbeat.
It’s happening!! <3