A gentle beginning, again.
I’ve wanted to write a book for as long as I can remember. Ideas have bounced around in my head since elementary school. I’ve even planned them out. Had a beginning, middle, and end. But I have never gotten past the planning stage. I enjoy telling the story, but planning it is something different entirely. It’s where the true magic lives. At least, the magic for me. When I start off with a story spark, it’s so new and shiny. I pick out the perfect notebook or start a new file on the computer. Sometimes both. The characters are like new friends, and I get to meet them and get to know them for the first time.
I start with a loose outline. What will happen? Who will do what? I plan out various scenarios and scenes. I research, ALL the things. It’s exciting and fun. But they don’t go in my notebook yet, just notes on a sticky or random sheets of paper. It’s all vague concepts and vibes. But eventually, it’s time to face that blank page and write things out. In order. With dialogue. And it becomes overwhelming and scary. A new notebook has potential until I write the first line.
Once that first word goes down, it gets real. Perfectionism rears up, and soon doubt creeps in. If I can’t write the perfect opening line, no one will read my story. If I let people read it, then they will hate it. Why would I even think I am good enough for people to want to read what I write? It’s an endless loop of anxiety and stress. It becomes easier and easier to put it off until the story fades away and I’m left with sticky notes and shame.
But I’m learning to treat myself as I would treat others. If a friend does something that isn’t perfect the first try, I would encourage them. I would remind them that it takes time to learn new skills. I would have their backs in whatever way they needed to accomplish their goals. So, why wouldn’t I do the same for myself? Or better yet, why would I keep everything so close to my chest that I don’t allow my friends and family to do the same for me?
I can do hard things. I’ve done them before.
So here’s to a gentle beginning, again. A plan to do more and accomplish a goal. I can do hard things. I’ve done them before. I have a wonderful support group of friends and relatives who know I can accomplish my goals and will push me to do so. It’s going to be a long journey, but I’ve hiked up a mountain one step at a time. Writing a book will be this year’s mountain. I’ll take it one word at a time.
