Outlining the Outline
Where will this book take me?
Last week, in a moment of frustrated inspiration, I declared to a virtual co-writing room, “I decided that 2026 is the year of my first memoir.”
Not that I expect to have a publication contract by December 31st. I intend to write the book this year.
But…
Where do I start?
How can I make the topic pop from page one?
The hardest part so far is getting these ideas from my mind onto paper. There’s no assignment with clear guidelines, only the blank page staring back at me. Sure, I have attended webinars by editors, book coaches, and published writers. Using their instruction and guidance will only get me so far, though.
I like the accountability that comes from declaring this to a group of writers. I’m also intimidated and terrified by having these folks in the front row of my one-woman writing show.
After all, these are writers with published books and essays, people who post their writing regularly, some of them who have weathered the backlash that comes from writing about controversial topics.
And what do I feel from this group?
Support. Encouragement. Cautious optimism.
The concept for my first book is clear in my mind. Diving into research and working my way down a list of titles on the topic has me energized - for now. I am mining my journals and notes for kernels of ideas and connections to this topic. I’ve started a list of people to interview and love the thought of learning from the lived experiences of others. At the same time, I’m shrinking back, wondering if asking for their time and thoughts is too intrusive.
“I need an editor,” I said to the co-writing group. Someone chimed in to say there is an editor who lives near me - one they recommend with enthusiasm.
I am committed to this new project. Ready to figure out where each part of the story fits into the outline. Nervous yet determined to learn more about myself and this world of vast ideas we live in. Eager to find editorial and promotional help.
Heartened, I am settling into the process. Most of the time, I can push doubts out of my mind. These are the roadblocks that worry me the most - the internal ones I create and reinforce with little or no evidence to support them.
I am visualizing the hard parts of the memoir writing process.
There will be days when I will want to quit writing forever. And times when the lonely life of a writer will isolate me to the point of risking deep depression. What about those days when chronic pain and fatigue will make the process so slow that I will want to crawl back into bed?
On occasion, I will set the draft aside to work on tasks that pay weeks, not years (if at all!), from now. Mental preparation means understanding that most of the road ahead will be bumpy, and that moments of ease and fun will be few. I have prepared pep talks for myself. Don’t feel like writing? Ok, pick up the nearest device and dictate into an app. Feel like throwing the project off a proverbial cliff? Go for a walk or pull up a yoga video. Dreading pitching to agents? Call a friend who encourages you no matter what. Most of all, stay in touch with people who live the writer’s life and can recommend ways to stay creative and engaged.
I know how to do hard things. In work, in recreation, in all parts of my life.
Years ago, I got into running. A few weeks in, I found the mental benefits even more valuable than the physical. I had fun at 5Ks and even got to walk one with my Mom. Next were the 10Ks. Then, the goal of a half-marathon. What was driving this? Seeing friends succeed at longer race distances, needing to counteract the negative effects of a high-stress job, and wanting to see if I could do it. Labor Day weekend 2017, I accomplished the goal while on vacation with my husband. We celebrated with a large lunch at a favorite restaurant and a shopping spree at a thrift book store.
The months leading up to this accomplishment, though, came with challenges. Fitting training into a demanding work schedule, caring for my chronically ill body, balancing diet and hydration, and treating shin splints, muscle strains, and plantar fasciitis. Most of all, staying motivated when I wanted to skip training and eat a hot fudge sundae.
The process was not perfect. And many of these challenges have parallels to those that come with writing a book.
So why am I doing this?
I have a story to tell. Make that many stories. Can I hold these stories back when there’s a chance they will help fellow humans?
No. Not anymore.
For now, I’m reading a lot and staying in touch with folks who understand writing. As luck would have it, a close friend is all but dissertation (ABD) and shares the good and the challenging with me. I am inspired by the grit, determination, and intelligence she embodies while preparing to defend a multifaceted thesis. This gift of connection feeds me with insights and resources.
I’m also learning how visioning can propel me - this is distinct from wishing, which implies that I need to depend on outside forces to deliver them. Growing up, I was immersed in the example of planning to make a plan for plans that might someday become solid, scheduled events. Stepping through this learned behavior and taking action can feel unnatural and verging on betrayal.
Visioning is active. It requires me to put in the work. My 2025 vision board, pictured here, features words and images that spark positive emotions and prompt action.
What will this year’s board include? The stack of magazines and clippings is nudging me to snip, shape, arrange, and glue images and phrases into a pleasing collage.
For now, there is one thing I know for sure: I am going to need a lot more coffee. And chocolate.
.