"Write a Book" is perhaps one of my oldest someday/maybe list items; it has been a permanent cornerstone in my garden of stumbling blocks to life. I hadn't thought about writing a book for years until November 11, 2021 (my last journal entry on the subject was November 14, 2009). The dates are interesting, almost twelve years to the day; however, that's probably a story for another time.
My entry on November 11, 2021, starts with, "It came as quite a shock this morning when I awoke with an idea that seemed to provide the answer to a question I wasn't trying to find. The idea is simple; the question is how to write a book." In my journal, I explain how I might use a nonlinear note-taking method to tie strings of thoughts together, hopefully containing a storyline.
My problem with writing a book is that I have no story to tell. No "book" is screaming inside me, waiting to be released. The words people imagine when writing a good book or movie are foreign to me. It is remarkable how someone can create worlds with detailed interactions between individuals through imagination alone.
It is also highly probable that my interest returned to book writing after my nephew Issac wrote and published a book that seemed almost unimaginable given Issac's erratic academic pursuits. I read Issac's book, and it was good. I may have felt that I could write a book if Issac could do it. In any case, I decided to hunker down and get serious about writing a book.
One website recommended "The Story Grid." So I purchased the book online, eagerly reading and trying to absorb the contents. I had just started reading a new book by Dean Koontz and realized what a perfect opportunity to apply the "analysis" of The Story Grid to the new book by Mr. Koontz.
I've always read fiction for pleasure, a mind tonic to counteract the daily drip of awful news I read for my day job. Analyzing a story I used to relax was counterproductive. I quickly read ahead for enjoyment and backtracked to fill in the analysis gaps. The back-and-forth reading soon grew tiring, and I gave up on the book analysis to continue reading for pleasure.
I was, however, completely blown away by the concept of writing a book. It is indeed a craft I had not thought about; my excitement of ignorance reminded me of someone going to a CrossFit gym for the first time. The individual has such a good experience that they announce they will compete in the CrossFit games in the future. Not unlike my thoughts of writing a book, the potential CrossFit games competitor forgets that "elite" competition takes years and years of singular focus: unique skills and genetic makeup. My desire to write a book was based on ignorance, pride, or seeking recognition. It wasn't based on understanding what it would take to write a book.
I found reassurance that there is a process—a series of steps in creating a good book. And although knowing the "science" would hardly produce a great novel (if so, computers would be spitting out hundreds of books a day), I take hope in the art of the craft. I also found hope in the familiarity that there are items I can begin to pay attention to daily to develop that craft. And Finally, I found hope in remembering past writings I have made that closely resemble the use of that art form without necessarily understanding it.
A few weeks later (February 28, 2022), I wrote in my journal that "I've decided to put this dream (writing a book) on the back burner again." I note in my entry that "it feels, frankly, like work." I also note how busy I am, too many things, etc. All the standard excuses.
Then unexpectedly, in June of this year (June 25, 2022), I wrote a blog detailing "A Change of Pace" for my trip reports and blogs. I announce my intention to write a "daily" blog, and for the most part, I have kept up with that commitment. I created an enjoyable rotation between my standard "Trip Reporting" blog posts covering hikes and ATV rides. I donated Mondays to memes that made me laugh, cry, or somewhere between. Wednesdays, I reserve for "productivity" blogs, and Thursdays and Sundays, I write about general stuff that falls out of my brain. Saturday, I created a "filler" blog, "What I Read," during the week to give me a break while plugging in the seventh day.
I'm happily typing along on my computer, spitting out blogs a few every day, taking some days off, or skipping a day without worries. Then on October 11, 2022, it dawned on me; I hadn't put the project on the back burner after all; the goal (for lack of a better explanation) had taken on a life of its own. My dream had changed the title and focus, tricking me into thinking I had given up; however, the goal had refused to die. I am still determining where we (the goal and me) are heading next, but the ride is sure to be interesting.
Written October 30, 2022