This week, Sarah and I FINALLY started writing our new historical fiction novel set in Ancient Greece. It’s been a couple months in the planning stages (researching, outlining, chapter planning, character development) but on Wednesday we put the finishing touches on our characters and found ourselves ready to put pen to paper. Well, more like fingers to keyboard.
I was so excited to start writing that I eagerly opened a new word document at 10pm—I had grand expectations of writing a whole chapter that night. Maybe my excitement would spur on a creative miracle and the words would flow seamlessly from my fingertips. Unsurprisingly, that wasn’t the case. Instead, an even stranger thing happened.
I felt nervous.
And I’ve never been nervous about writing before. Excited yes. But never nervous. Not ever. I typed the words: Chapter Two (Sarah’s witing Chapter One), and immediately had the sensation of butterflies in my stomach.
I think all the anticipation and excitement about starting a new project came to a head at that moment. We had done all we could planning the novel. Now, all that was left to do was write the damn thing!
However, as I wrote those first words, it felt like the weight of the entire novel sat on my (and Sarah’s) shoulders. The outline of the book looks great on paper, and I can already see the potential our story could have (hence my unbridled excitement to start writing)… I just hope we can do it justice.
We’ve become better writers over the course of the past couple years. But this is a massive step outside of our comfort zone. It’s our first attempt at adult fiction and it has a plot that’s more complicated than anything we’ve tried in the past. Despite all these challenges, I think Sarah and I can do it. No, I’m confident Sarah and I can do it.