A photo of my workstation in February, 2021.

I was ecstatic.

I've had this novel idea floating around in my head for nearly three years.

I'd contribute a scene to an index card here and there, and just go about life.

Then, struck with this lightning-bolt of inspiration, I decided to start writing out the scope of the story.

I told my husband he needed to figure something out for dinner because I was going to spend my evening finally getting the story outline down.

I wrote for nearly two hours when a pesky little thought crept into mind: the setting, as it stands, is a character in the story. (I mean, to me, every setting is a character in every story. It's why early episodes of the TV show House irk me so badly—such a bad, uncomfortable set.)

But my setting-character is simultaneously interesting yet boring. Then, my motivation fizzled out.

Several things went wrong that night: primarily mom-guilt for basically saying I wasn't going to cook, I have better things to do.

Another thing was letting the infancy of the fresh idea become tainted by the years I've tossed the story concept around for.

I had other things going on. I didn't nurture this notion; I worked on everything else. And when the pilot light lit under my ass finally ignited, I expected the conglomeration of index card scenes to fully form a story in my first sitting..?

Good luck with that.

Although it's been three years, I haven't given this story legs yet.

It's still just an idea, but one that’s now moved to the forefront.

In Neil Gaiman's Masterclass he shared that he had the idea for The Graveyard Book* while he was in college, and felt he wasn't quite ready yet as a writer to do the idea justice. And something like 20-some-odd years later, he finally wrote that shelved story.

When he, the author, was finally ready.

The thought of waiting until I'm "ready” is nerve-wracking though.

What if someone gets the same idea, or that it's so close to mine that my depiction is therefore trash?

For another novel idea I have, there is a popular novel called Don't Look For Me* where the blurb lead me to believe that it was "my" idea executed by someone quicker on the trigger. Luckily it wasn't even close. But still, the anxiety is palpable.

It makes me question my whole approach—my "strategy"—with writing.

As someone who has written and shelved two novels, ghostwritten for years, and has listened to published authors share their experiences: writing short fiction is harder than writing a novel.

Maybe I'm crazy for trying to master the art of the short first. Especially now that I'm “a year behind” with the pandemic. I'll read someone like Lauren Groff who can pack a character's entire life into a single sentence, and that level of succinct mastery reassures me that I'm going about this the right way for me. Although I'm not there yet, it proves that it can be done and done beautifully. That the ability to write short-form work that leaves an impact in as few words as possible is an art form in and of itself.

No matter how much fresh doubt or imposter syndrome creeps in, I trust myself.

I made this plan three years ago, maybe a couple months before the "mega novel idea” first struck me: I would focus on writing short stories first, then novels while still working on more short stories (to market and draw appeal for the novels, and to build more collections of stories later).

Additionally, I’ve found that I tend to prefer the novels of authors who also write short stories. They are adept at brevity. Their novels are devoid of sloppy, meaningless sentences, saggy middles, and boring plots.

They put in the work to craft concise, crisp prose, and that success pours into everything they write, no matter the length.

All in all, although I'm excited about this novel idea, it's just not ready. And I'm not yet there as a sculptor of words to do the story justice.

But I'm getting there.

Every day I work toward that goal, and even if it takes me 20 years to write this particular novel, the story will be better because I didn't rush it; I didn't fake it. I did right by it.

And I did what's best for me (and my family) right now.

My best,

Sara

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I’m currently reading How Lucky* by Will Leitch, about a 25-year-old man, in a wheelchair with SMA, who witnesses what he thinks might be a kidnapping. With little help from authorities, he involves himself in the potential missing woman’s case. (It’s got a nice layer of comic relief, which I was looking for right now. Also, I’m treating it as a study on a plot that (mostly) stays in one place. It’s much easier to write a traveling or “road trip”-type story where the setting changes. Keeping a long-form story entertaining in one general setting is tough. So far, How Lucky is doing pretty well on keeping the plot moving and not boring me, albeit a little choppily constructed.)
10 hugely successful authors who got their starts later in life (although, for a few, I wouldn’t say the 40s are “later,” by any means).
Kurt Vonnegut on the shape of stories (video). I’ve seen this so many times, but never get bored with it.
This “At 28” Bustle series interviewing various famous women on advice they’d give their 28-year-old selves, etc.
“Before everything else, getting ready is the secret to success.” —Henry Ford

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when the time is right

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