I’m sure you guys have heard–at least in passing– that I have this crazy idea of writing a book. It’s actually been something I have always wanted to do, unfortunately I can’t seem to get out my own way. 

But Lately, writing has started feeling a little different again. 

Not that feeling of spiraling where I physically cringe every time I re-read parts of my story already written. 

It’s actually… quieter, more thoughtful in a way. 

I haven’t been ripping into my novel with a red pin, scratching out every misspelled word or incorrect grammar. 

I’ve mostly been taking it one chapter at a time. 

Going back through the old chapters–despite noticing how cringy it feels–and smoothing things out. 

Fixing wording. 

Adjusting characters.

Trying to make the story feel real, more like itself again. 

And right now? 

For the first time since I’ve started this journey, the pressure no longer feels artificial. 

I think part of the difference is I’m not trying to fix the entire story all at once. 

I’m not trying to tackle the full manuscript– just smaller sections of it, letting myself really connect with those pieces individually. 

Connecting to the Character Sheets.

The arc ideas.

The pacing of each chapter. 

By connecting with the smaller sections, it makes everything seem more manageable. 

Right now I’ve mostly been focusing on chapter one and building a character sheet. 

Not just rushing ahead into chapter two before I actually feel good about the foundation underneath it. 

And sure, I want to blast out this novel, it’s been almost ten years in the making but it’s something I want to share and be proud to share. 

And honestly, strengthening the beginning, I think that’s been healthier for me. 

For the longest time, I believed progress was constantly moving forward. 

New chapters.

New Scenes.

More words. 

But lately it’s starting to feel more like slowing down and strengthening what’s already there is progress too.

And honesty? 

I’m proud of everything that’s happened during this process that has led me to this point. 

Not having writing to be something I’ve constantly have to fight against. 

It feels like traveling after a long time and finally being able to sleep in your own bed. 

It feels like home. 

More Soon, 

Quill