published this post last week by mistake (blush). It wasn’t finished. So this is the rewritten, finished post. Thanks for your patience.

I haven’t written anything big for a few years.

Oh I write all the time – this blog, my newsletter (you do subscribe, yes? – you get Comfort Wishes!) and all the monthly material for the Comfort Cafe.

But nothing big – like a book or a something-that-strings-ideas-together-over-many-pages.

Actually, I haven’t written a lot of somethings-that-string-ideas-together.

My first three books, especially The Woman’s Comfort Book, The Couple’s Comfort Book, and The Pregnant Woman’s Comfort Book, are basically reference books.

The Woman’s Retreat Book is more “bookie” as is The Comfort Queen’s Guide to Life (which became in soft cover Comfort Secrets for Busy Women, a title I detest) but still, not meant to be read in a linear fashion.

I love those books and I always hungered to write deeper. More cohesively.

To write something that expressed the ideas and longings in my heart.

So, a number of years ago, I started a novel (I started out writing stories and screenplays). I wrote a first draft over five long years and then never had the fire to go back and revise it.

Then came the Long Dark Bewildered Flummoxed Time, and I misplaced my ability to write anything.

There were months when I didn’t even blog or write the newsletter.

I began to believe I could not. Ever. Write. Again.

Then I did the January Virtual Retreat and suddenly, I had to write.

I had to write the How To Retreat e-book and the blog posts.

My thoughts were slurred, my writing contrived, my mind mired in slow motion sludge.

I get flop sweats just thinking about how hard it was.

And I did it.

Purpose and Action

Fear dissolves (albeit often very slowly and with a surfeit of moaning and gnashing of razor-sharp teeth) in the face of purpose and small actions.

By offering the retreat, I had a purpose to write.

By offering the retreat, I got into action – taking small steps forward, even though I was certain nothing would work and I would never again string more than three words together.

One foot in front of the other.

Working on one thing at a time.

It works.

(This our theme next month at the Comfort Cafe. Join us and do the same thing for yourself!)

Fast Forward to Now

A few weeks ago I started to write something fictional.

I tried not notice.

(What the hell are you thinking, Jen? Don’t you have enough on your plate?)

(Well, it’s coming. It wants to come. Let’s let it be fun.)

(But you know how much dedication and time a novel takes. You can’t do what you did with the last novel which is not give it enough time so it slowly strangled under the weight of too much story strung over too long a time.)

(You’re right. If I’m going to do this again, it has to happen differently.)

So I’ve decided to hold this fictional-thing-that-is-coming in a very particular way, a way based on what I learned through my past pitfalls and based on Mark David Gerson’s wonderful writing book The Voice of the Muse. If you write, get this book!

Next post: how I’m doing it!

Related posts:

1. Not Writing
2. Ultimate Guide to Productivity Group Writing Project.
3. The Writing Process
4. Writing Writing Writing
5. Getting Your Writing Done with Ease and Even a Little Happy Dancing