So You Want to Write a Book
So you want to write a book. An intriguing idea has captured your imagination and you feel haunted. It plays out in your dreams and it follows you everywhere you go. You feel hopeful and inspired. You can hardly wait to get the words on the page. You can do it. Why not? But first you have to learn how.
Writing is a simple act that involves arranging and rearranging twenty-six letters on a blank page – with some punctuation thrown in for clarification. I call it simple, but there are a lot of pieces to fit into place along the way. Your array of letters are at the ready in your virtual tool box. Your screen is like a vision board that reminds you where you are, where you’ve been, where you're going and where you want to end up. Your ideas are beacons that light up the path and your mind is like a stovetop with pots simmering on every burner, vying for your attention.
When you’re inspired, the pots boil over faster than your hands can skim across the computer keys. Like a planchette gliding soundlessly over a Ouija board, your fingers take on a mind of their own and lead you into an alternate world. You get so immersed , you lose time and place as you set out to create something that didn’t exist before. It’s like waking up, chasing a dream and finding a way to seize it and hold it firmly in your grasp.
When you’re not inspired which is the case most of the time, it takes a world of patience and grit to stay focused as you wait for the writing muse to grace you with her presence. It could take a long time or she may show up in a minute. Or not at all. Like a hummingbird, flitting, sipping sweet nectar from orange honeysuckles and red petunias and taking off again, the muse is here one minute, gone the next. But whether or not she comes and however long she stays, your job is the same – to keep on writing.
Although the well known adage, A Writer Writes, sounds pretty straightforward, it's no easy task to allow the process to take shape, in its own time, without trying to control it. We human beings abhor being out of control, but that’s what good writing requires. We have to learn to live in the midst of chaos and tolerate not knowing where we're headed or what might show up. None of the steps are quick, easy, or tie themselves up in neat little bundles. We have to keep moving forward anyway, blindfolded and trusting, loose ends hanging everywhere, hoping that we end up with something heartfelt and authentic.
When I was writing my first book, I had to face some problematic issues like continuity and tension. I knew nothing about them. They hadn’t come into play when I was writing a story or an article. But penning an entire book with a theme, characters, and story arcs, one chapter flowing into the next and finally ending up somewhere that made sense, was brand new. I had no idea how to organize such a huge undertaking. Writing an article was a sprint but writing a book was a marathon. Did I have the stamina to get through it?
When I voiced my reservations to a journalist friend, she gave me some great advice. “Don’t think about the book as a whole,” she said. “Think of each chapter as a separate story or you’ll end up in bed with the covers pulled up over your head.”
I knew that posture all too well and it sounded like she did, too.
“One chapter at a time,” she advised me. “You’ve already written stories and articles. You know how to do that. When a chapter feels like it’s over, go on to the next one.”
“But where should I start?”
“Begin in the middle,” she said.
That was exactly what I needed to hear as I put my fingers on the keyboard and let them go whatever they pleased. What I wrote didn’t need to make sense at first. The writer’s life is made up of unfinished ideas, dangling participles, and flashes of memory that seem unreachable, all powered by a yearning to tell a story or share a teaching. Moving forward takes determination, organization, stamina, more stamina, a willingness to listen to informed criticism, and a mighty desire to express yourself and your ideas without filters. It also takes a lot of love, both for yourself and for your work.
You start out as a leader, dreaming up ideas, shaping your material and placing the words where you think they belong. But with a little luck, you become a follower as you watch the words come pouring out and rearranging themselves as if you had nothing to do with it. This is what every writer yearns for – getting into the zone and allowing the story to unfold in its own time. It’s like watching a wave crash onto the shore and ebb out, leaving crabs, colorful seashells, and strings of seaweed in its wake. These are the pearls of writing wisdom, the hidden gems that inspire you to dive into your psyche, unearth the secrets that are hidden away, illuminate new ideas and use them boldly. It may take some discipline to zero in at first. Pearls, in all their pristine beauty, are created as a response to an irritant, a grain of sand that annoys the oyster so much, it begins to coat it with layers of nacre as a defense mechanism. In much the same way, tidbits of ideas are responses to challenges that need to be faced and dealt with. But we artists like a good challenge. We like how it awakens us mentally and creatively.
I don't think you can teach yourself to write in the literal sense. What you can do is make friends with your inner critic, remove the obstacles to your creativity and allow your natural talent to shine through. When you make a commitment to trust your instincts and flex your writing muscles day after day, they will become strong, consistent, dependable and available.
And that’s how you write a book.