Notes from the messy middle

The change of season, deadlines, and feeling the pressure

Spring is nearly here!

Photo by Daiga Ellaby on Unsplash

Here on the edge of Dartmoor, after weeks and weeks of heavy rain, the spring light has come with such a sense of relief. Don’t get me wrong, I love the winter, but the incessant rain and the grey skies have felt like they were never going to change.

Now, at the very end of February, the weather seems to have turned a corner and there is a sense of hope in the air. Bright yellow daffodils, deep purple crocuses and pale pink cherry blossom are brightening both the landscape and our mood. I’m making plans and getting out more; the garden is growing; on some days I can even go for a run without getting soaked!

With the lighter mornings and evenings, life feels less contained and more expansive.

But deadlines are looming!

Photo by Unseen Studio on Unsplash

However, the new month also brings with it my goal to finish the first draft of my novel by the 31^st. Eek!

Since setting myself this goal back in October, I have been working hard. Really hard. I have been filling gaps, adding sub-plots and developing my characters. I have ticked a lot off my list. I have created a new list of things to prioritise when it comes to my second draft. I’ve never written a book before and I don’t know if I’m deluding myself by thinking that I could ever finish it, but I have become attached to the story, to my characters, and to the world I’ve created.

So why are the thousands of words I’ve written feeling so incredibly heavy?

I’m scared that writing a book might turn out to be ‘just’ another creative project that I tried and gave up on. What if it ends up on the pile of hobbies I turned out not to be very good at? Like sewing, crochet or knitting. I tried them all with enthusiasm, bought everything I needed. I got quite into it and made some easy cushion covers and some scarves. But I quickly realised I wasn’t skilled enough to take it any further. So I abandoned those hobbies, sold my sewing machine and put the knitting needles and crochet hooks in a box at the back of the cupboard.

What if I’m not skilled enough to take my book any further? What if my notebooks get relegated to the bottom drawer, and my manuscript on Scrivener is never looked at again?

I have invested a lot of time, effort and money into this project. Alongside writing the book, I’ve been taking writing classes and courses. I have dug deep and drawn on parts of my own life story. I have sacrificed other things so I could put in the time at my desk. There are currently 90,000 words in my manuscript. And another 30,000 words that I’ve cut. That is more than I ever thought I’d be able to write. So abandoning the project would be such a waste, wouldn’t it?

The sunk cost fallacy

It’s a curious place I find myself in. I don’t want to stop, but the pressure to keep going and not waste everything I’ve put into it is creating a lot of tension and resistance in me. Is that the sunk cost fallacy that economists talk about? I’ve invested too much in this to quit.

And what if I do finish it, what then?

What if it’s not very good? What if other people don’t like it? Shit, what if I don’t like it? Will it all have been a waste?

What does ‘waste’ mean?

All these questions circling around in my head are threatening to overwhelm and distract me. So I’m trying, not always successfully, to reframe the word ‘waste.’ By saying it would be a waste to quit, I have been placing all the value on the finished product. When I started writing, the process was my priority, but as I get closer to finishing (the first draft), my attention has been more firmly centred on the outcome. Only natural, I suppose, but it’s been helpful to take a step back.

Through a different lens, even if I were to quit, I would still have learned a huge amount about the process of writing a story, creating characters I care about and developing their narrative arcs. If I were to quit, I would also have learned something about my own resilience, my self-discipline, and about the sorts of stories that I am drawn to.

That’s all very well and good, but if I’m honest, I know that I will beat myself and be extremely self-critical if I quit this far in. But by shifting some of the value back onto the process, the pressure to finish has gone down just enough for me to stay committed to my project.

Just as the rain is likely to continue (and continue), my doubts and anxieties won’t suddenly disappear, but as we go through the month of March, I hope I can absorb some of the fresh, vital energy of spring and channel it into my book.

It doesn’t need to be a sprint finish!

I’m learning something else too - just because the goal is in sight, it doesn’t mean I have to race towards it. I can continue with a slow, steady approach (much like my running!) and trust that I will get there.

What are your experiences of being in this ‘messy middle’? Are you in a messy middle of your own right now? I'd love to know how you’re finding your way through it!