I was so happy writing that book until suddenly…

Posted on Posted in English, Non-Fiction, Writing

Writing it is one of those professions that are interesting. Anything and everything is useful and useless at the same time.

Writing a book is one of those things that many think it is really easy to do and provide no real challenge. I just wish more of that people where simply right. I love to have written, the writing of the book, that’s a different story.

In my experience this is how it goes (or how it had been on each book I had written). You begin with the idea, exited to begin to think on the book, plan the book, dream about the book… You even begin writing and are having fun…

Suddenly, everything when dark, you start shivering, fear begin to posses you and the writing process is over. Every time you sit on that chair to continue the manuscript you feel the cold, the loneliness, you can’t even write your own name, you fear even the name of your own book and are so happy no one knows you were writing a book… Welcome to the Valley of Despair. This is the place where you can find all the hope in the world, at least the most writers hope in the world.

If you have ever try to write a book you know the place. Most people run and never show up again after they have been there. They convinced themselves that they can’t write, they are not writers or the book wasn’t even a good idea.

Sadly there is only one way out, trough the Valley of Despair. There is no coming back, no turning around, you can quit and forget about that book or you can begin the adventure and walk trough the Valley of Despair.

I wish you good luck, it is wet, dark, cold and stinks, but it is the only way to finish that book you dream on writing.

Why is that way, I have no clue, but know many writers that struggle with it. I am one of those. I come every day and work hard to get out of there, but sometimes for weeks, even months all that I do is to shiver, be terrified, cold and in despair. All that I want to do is to quit the book. To stop writing it. To forget about it. Eventually and without any warning you are out, you survived, you are not terrified nor shivering… Eventually you discover you actually wrote a book. Then another story begins.

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