Let’s talk about the writing process.
Ah yes, the process. That majestic, mythical, Instagrammable creature every indie author is apparently supposed to post about. You’ve seen the posts, right? The ones with a steaming mug of tea, a perfectly posed cat, a candle flickering beside a stack of color-coded index cards, and captions like:
“Today I let my protagonist tell me where the story wanted to go…”
Meanwhile, over here in the chaotic land of reality, my protagonist just refused to cooperate, the dog barked at a ghost (probably), and my coffee’s been microwaved three times. And I’ll be honest with you: if I waited around for my story to tell me where to go, I’d still be staring at Chapter One wondering why my main character is named Blergle.
Here’s my writing process:
Step One: Put butt in chair.
Step Two: Put fingers on keyboard.
Step Three: Make stuff up.
That’s it. That’s the whole enchilada. No scented candles. No lunar rituals. No twenty-part TikTok series about how my characters’ horoscopes shaped their character arcs. (Though now that I say it… Cancer sun with Scorpio rising might explain that murder in Book 2…)
I’ve got no time for analysis paralysis. The only dissection I’m doing is in the plot of my next cozy mystery (and okay, occasionally a body on page three). I don’t write about writing—I write. Because let’s face it, the magic isn’t in talking about it. It’s in doing it.
And sure, if someone out there has a secret potion or enchanted feather that makes the words flow like wine at a writers’ retreat, PLEASE send it my way. But until then? It’s me, my keyboard, and a whole lot of hoping the dog doesn’t bark every time I hit my stride.
So if you’re wondering how the writing gets done, it’s not complicated. It’s messy. It’s chaotic. It’s beautiful in that “what is happening” sort of way. But mostly—it’s about showing up.
Because stories don’t write
themselves.
And as glamorous as it sounds to “document the journey”…
I’d rather just take the dang trip.
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