What writing a book feels like
"Here are some of my brain teeth."
It’s hard to explain what writing a book feels like.
Though movies and TV tend to glamorize the process, it’s not all tucking yourself into the corner of a coffee shop and typing while rain drizzles against the window, pausing occasionally to sip your coffee, stare into the middle distance, and Think Deep Thoughts.
Writing a book feels like something else entirely.
What writing a book feels like:
Writing a book feels like running a marathon, but you have two sprained ankles, and both your shoes are on backward and possibly untied. Only you have no way of knowing for sure because you’re wearing a sleep mask over your eyes.
Good thing you’re running in slow-motion.
Also, you’re not sure how far away the finish line actually is, if you’re running the right direction, or if you’re actually a registered participant. You may simply be an imposter running down random roads hoping you’ll chance upon the actual course and cross the line with the winners.
At this point, it’s hard to tell.
TL;DR: Writing a book feels like flailing through a marathon you’re not sure you’ve actually entered.
Writing a book can also feel like climbing a mountain, only the mountain is made of glass. You’ve strapped suction cups to your hands and feet, but half the time the suction cups pop away, leaving you dangling dangerously (yet tediously) in mid-air.
As you hang there, swaying in the wind, you half hope the last suction cup will peel away.
At least then the choice to quit will be out of your hands.
TL;DR: Writing a book feels like attempting to climb a glass mountain with malfunctioning suction cups, half-hoping you’ll plummet to your doom.
Then there are days when writing a book feels like taking a road trip, only you can’t find the freeway because you’re stuck exclusively on interchange loops. Every time you think you’ve chosen the right ramp, the lane that seemed to be soaring outward to freedom curves back and dumps you right smack in the middle of the tangle.
You try listening to the radio to take your mind off things, but it will only pick up a station that seems to be your own voice shouting “BOO.”
TL;DR: Writing a book feels like taking a road trip to nowhere with your only comfort the sound of you heckling yourself.
Mostly, though, writing just feels like pulling teeth. Only, you’re pulling your own teeth, and you’re using a pen to pull them from your brain.
As you can imagine, the process isn’t going well.
TL;DR: Writing a book feels like pulling your own brain teeth.
None of this is to say that you shouldn’t try writing a book or that the experience is exclusively negative.
There are those fleeting moments of sheer joy and excitement when the entire thing finally comes together. When others finally experience what you’ve been wrestling with all this time, and it all feels worth it.
But reaching those glorious moments always involves a struggle.
You’ll have to pull a lot of brain teeth.