I finally convinced myself to write a novel

I’ve been writing for almost my entire life.

I wrote essays, short stories, and poems in school. I’ve written tons of emails and documentation for work. I wrote marketing copy when I had my own business. I’ve contributed to my writing group’s annual anthology three of the past four years. I’ve been writing monthly blog posts for the past 16 months.

Yet one thing I’ve never done–something I’ve long envisioned as my pinnacle achievement–is write a novel.

I’ve probably written tens of millions of words over my lifetime. Many novels are between 50,000 and 100,000 words.

So what’s my excuse?

The problem, I’ve come to realize, has been motivation. Up to this point, almost all of the writing I’ve done has been, at least in part, to meet someone else’s expectations. I wrote in school with the hope that my teachers would give me good grades–and occasionally display my work as a model for other students. I write for work because it’s part of my job. I write for my group’s anthology so I can feel like I’m pulling my weight. I stick with this blog because I told my readers I would publish on the 1st of every month.

Sure, I get some gratification out of it as well. But it was mainly external motivation–the desire to please others combined with the fear of disappointing them–that drove me.

This time, it’s different. No one is counting on me to write a novel. I’m not being paid or graded to do it. I don’t have a deadline.

I could ask someone to hold me accountable. But I’ve decided I want to try something new.

I don’t want to write a novel for a grade or money or praise or out of feelings of obligation and guilt. I don’t want this to be another vehicle for people-pleasing.

I want to experience what it’s like to create a story that unfolds over 200 or 300 pages or more. I want to get to know my characters as well as I know some of my friends. I want to build a rich world based on deep contemplation and research instead of just making something up off the top of my head. I want to know what it feels like to see the finished work and be able to say, “I did that.”

Maybe I’ll want to share it when I’m done. Maybe I’ll even try to get it published.

But for now, I just want to treat myself. So I’m going to write a novel.