This summer I wrote about the book writing purgatory I found myself in when I couldn’t write myself out of chapter nine of my memoir, The Mother Code. That was the moment I messaged my editor and said something like, “I hate to tell you this, but you bought my book and I have no idea what the book is about.” I thought I knew. I had momentum out of the gate, stored up words and ideas that got me to chapter nine with confidence and assurance that I was on the right path. But that all came to a screeching halt when I realized: the hypothesis I began writing with had drifted into something else. Now I had no idea what I was really trying to say anymore. And if I didn’t know what I was trying to say and why it was important, why should anyone else read my book?
Really looking for to the Modern Love class!
I'm so excited to have you! XO
Thank you for the shout out and good luck to all of us in revisions this month!
Here's what I tell myself: as long as I keep going, something will come out of it. <3