Out of My Comfort Zone

For as long as I can remember, I have written children's books. Every once in a while, I've challenged myself by entering a short story contest or contributing a piece to an anthology. But recently, I started something completely out of my comfort zone.

A novel. Not a middle-grade novel. Not a young adult novel. A full-length adult novel with a goal of at least 50,000 words.

I honestly didn't set out to write one. The story simply appeared. It floated into my thoughts, followed me into my dreams, and stayed with me throughout the day until I finally had no choice but to start writing. Once I did, something unexpected happened. The story began breathing on its own.

The characters have opinions. They happily tell me "yes" to one idea and firmly tell me "no" to another. They'll suddenly change directions when I thought I knew exactly what was supposed to happen next.

The funny thing is... I don't have an outline. I don't know exactly where this story is going. I don't even know how it ends. And somehow, that has made the journey even more exciting.

As I write this, I've passed 26,000 words in less than a month. That's more than halfway to my original goal, and I still wake up with scenes playing in my head. More than once I've found myself reaching for my faithful pen and paper at four o'clock in the morning because my mind simply couldn't hold the story any longer. Later, I get to decipher my chicken scratch and turn those sleepy scribbles into actual chapters.

I've started other book ideas before, but this is the first one that has completely taken over. Every single day I find myself revising, writing, imagining, or wondering what my characters will do next.

It's equal parts exciting and terrifying.

Writing this book has also challenged me in another way. Every story I've ever written has been through the eyes of a teacher. I would always ask myself, Would I read this to my students? Would they laugh here? Would they connect with this character?

This time, I'm asking a completely different question. Would I want to read this?

For the first time, I'm writing with an adult reader in mind...and maybe, more importantly, I'm writing for myself.

Children's books are a labor of love that often take months, sometimes years, from first draft to working with illustrators, editors, and finally holding the finished book in my hands. This novel has been different. In less than a month, it has grown to more than 26,000 words because the story simply refuses to slow down.

Where will it lead? I honestly have no idea.

How will it end? Your guess is as good as mine.

I know who I'm rooting for, but the characters may have other plans.

So for now, I'll keep showing up with my notebook, my pen, and whatever sleep I can spare. I'll keep following these characters wherever they decide to take me.

And if I need a little encouragement along the way, I'm pretty sure Annie the Porcupine will be standing on the sidelines, cheering me on every step of the journey.