As I’m approaching the completion of my next novel, I’d Strike the Sun, it has me feeling equally nostalgic, excited, anxious, and sad. The thing about being a writer (at least in my case), is that during the actual writing process, I want nothing more than to just be done. Every writing session becomes a measuring stick for my success as I envision the finished product and drudge through writing session after writing session. I often forget the wonders of immersing myself fully into the creative process. I mean, how freaking magical is it to create a whole new Universe that I can share with those willing to read it?
Unfortunately, for me, it’s very easy to forget the magic of storytelling.
But just as quickly as it is to forget, the Universe is always ready to remind me of why I’m a storyteller through wreckage in the plans and goals I set for the book. I set these goals on a linear timeline, and the Universe swiftly reminded me that time is irrelevant. I drafted an outline so that I can reach these goals faster, only to up re-route the direction of the plot and harbor writer’s block for MONTHS in the process.
I was supposed to be finished with the full manuscript by October. If things had gone as planned, I should have been in the “proofreading” phase by now. But today, as I’m writing this newsletter, I still don’t have an ending and I have a sizable amount of issues to fix and things to clean up.
The Universe is funny that way, I guess.
Thankfully I’m growing accustomed to surrendering everything to the Universe, and that includes my plans, what I think is right, and most importantly: time. While I find myself becoming an undignified mixture of impatient and frustrated whenever I surrender (I’m human after all, thus I assume I know what’s good for me), I at least possess enough common sense to acknowledge that allowing the Universe to bring me my good in its own time is the key to receiving everything faster.
It’s not that I embody this way of thinking as a means of tricking the Universe into giving me what I want as quickly as possible, because the Universe doesn’t fall for human tricks. Rather, I embody surrender because…what’s the point in resisting? Resistance only withholds us from our good. It keeps us in an anxious, worried state, constantly wondering when our miracle will reveal itself. It’s better to simply trust that things will work themselves out, and even if that means delaying my book release, then it’s alright. I’m still breathing, and that’s all that matters.
91,000 words in. Who knows how many to go. But I’m trudging along, and immersing myself into the Universal flow and goodness that is the creation process.