I’m Still Writing a Book, Just Not in 90 Days

Earlier this year, I made a declaration: I’m Writing A Book In 90 Days

I genuinely believed I could write a rough draft of a book in 90 days. A rough draft that’s been mentally in the making for years so realistically, all that was left to do was to put pen to paper — or rather, fingers to keyboard. I put together a set of guidelines to hold me accountable and stay true to the vision I was holding in my mind’s eye. I even prepared myself for the inevitable creative blocks, limiting beliefs, and self-sabotage. I drew the outlines of my map and was ready to hit the ground running.

And so I’d sit. And so I’d write. And so I’d procrastinate.

But I had my map and so I had faith that that would be enough to navigate my way.

But the map is not the territory.

I had superb writing days. Words flowing out of me as if by some divine influence.

I had difficult days that ultimately pushed me to recalibrate. A story that felt more like me as opposed to what I thought it should be.

And most common of all were the days when I questioned the entire endeavour.

I decided to partake in this “writing challenge” because I figured it would be the kick in the butt I needed to get that writing momentum going. And so what started as 90 days soon became 100 which in turn turned into “by end of year”.

But that’s not realistic, at least not for me. It might work for others before me and some after me, but while I’d had the map all laid out, navigating the territory — my territory — was a whole other endeavour in and of itself.

I felt like a failure. As though I haven’t got what it takes to turn this dream into reality. Maybe I’m doing something wrong. Maybe I don’t want it enough. Maybe I’m not ruthless, disciplined, and diligent enough. Maybe I’m making too many excuses. Maybe I haven’t got that many things on my plate. Maybe I’m not as spread thin with my time and energy as I’d convinced myself I’d been.

I felt utterly discouraged. There are far better writers than me out there who have never been published. Why me and not them? But at the same time, there are far worse writers out there who have become published authors, namely, in this day and age, social media influencers who don’t read, write, or have an interest in either, but find themselves presented with a business opportunity that they’d quite frankly be foolish to turn down, regardless of how many ghost writers and editors rewrite the copy. Why them and not me?

I also felt completely, wholly, and outright bored of feeling all those emotions.

They’re valid. Always have been and always will be. But I just got bored of hearing that same story play out in my mind. It grew tedious up there. And I needed it to become so because that’s what allowed me to separate those emotions from my being. I felt discouraged, apprehensive, afraid, doubtful, and insecure. I felt like a failure, but that didn’t mean that I was one.

And so, I tossed my map out the figurative window in favour of navigating the territory in real time.

I’ve never written a book before. I’ve always relied on bursts of creativity for my writing. I’ve always relied on inspiration more than on discipline. Creativity can’t be forced, right? But maybe that’s the sort of unhelpful absolute way of thinking that’s been getting in my way. Maybe creativity is less a tap that turns off and on, and more an entire water system of pipes — steady and ever-present. Maybe all I needed was a good old perspective shift to get me back up on my feet.

I am still writing a book, and in some ways, it’s a book I’ve been working on for years. I’m just taking a different and more deliberate approach towards bringing it to life.

Whether that means confronting myself about what’s been working and what hasn’t. Whether that means recalibrating, realigning, and adapting as I navigate the uncharted territory. Whether that means it takes me however long it’s going to take me.

I’m writing a book, it’s just not in 90 days.