of fires & forests
Guess what? I’m just over 33,000 words into the first draft of my new book! And while I’m thrilled to be at this point (33,000 words is when a manuscript starts to feel like it has a little meat on its bones), I’ve hardly written at all over the past few weeks, choosing instead to wallow in confusion and uncertainty.
Fun times.
You see, the problem is that I’ve reached the point in this story where I have no idea where to go with it or what to say. Writing this book feels a lot like standing at the edge of a dark and wild forest. Up until this point, I’ve edged around its border, feeling my way through the shadows, waiting for inspiration to light the trail or at least make the journey seem a little less intimidating.
But now I’m 33,000 words deep and we’re past the point of introduction. No more edging around the woods—it’s time to step into the unknown. This is the point in the story where the plot needs to thicken and the characters need to develop. This is the point in the story where everything good and worthwhile requires me to venture into the wilderness of drafting.
So if I’m headed toward the best part of the creative process, why am I not running full speed ahead? Why do I insist on skirting the perimeter of the dark and wild forest without stepping foot inside?
I don’t have to think that hard to figure out the answer. I mean, it’s pretty obvious why I’m stuck in avoidance: I’m scared of what comes next.
Here’s just a sampling of what I’m afraid of:
I’m scared I won’t be able to do this story justice.
I’m scared I won’t plot it right.
I’m scared I’ll pour my heart into it and nobody will want to read it.
I’m scared my writing won’t improve.
I’m scared I’ll give it everything I’ve got and it still won’t be enough.
For too long, my ambition and my anxiety have been linked, wrapped around each other like twisting, sprawling vines. Over the years, they wound themselves so tightly around me that it became hard to tell the difference between the two. All I knew was that something was squeezing me too hard.
Lately, it feels as if God Himself has thrown my ambition into the fire. This year I’ve felt more than a little lost as an author, trying to figure out a new way to move forward that doesn’t require me to spend so much time online or away from my family. There have been many days where I’ve felt as if I’ve lost my ambition entirely. And as I watched the fire burn, I thought maybe God was trying to destroy my ambition, to uproot that unruly part of me. But the more time I spend in communion with Him, the more I realize that He isn’t trying to burn away the part of me that wants things.
No—He’s not trying to destroy but to refine. He’s not wanting to uproot, but to strengthen. My writing has been slow this year, painstakingly so, and I’ve hardly sold any books. But the Lord has continued to stoke the fire, burning away what doesn’t matter until all that remains is clarity and purpose.
Ambition without anxiety—ambition with nothing to prove.
Maybe the Lord started this fire so I’ll have something to guide me as I step into the dark and wild woods. Maybe He knew I wouldn’t be able to finish this book if I kept holding on to anxiety. Maybe He knew I needed to let go of what was to find out what comes next.
I don’t know what you’re struggling with, but I know that you’re on the edge of a dark and wild forest too. We all are. We all have things we want to explore and pursue, but we’re all a little hesitant to take that first shaking step. So look around you—do you see a fire burning bright? What is the Lord trying to tell you? What does He want you to cast into the flames? How is He refining you? How is He strengthening you? How is He preparing you for your next step?
Don’t forget that He not only made the fire, but He made every tree in the forest too. He knows the way and He knows what you need to make it through. He’s the most ambitious of us all, and He’s not anxious about a thing.
This week, I’m going to take a step into the unknown of drafting. I’m going to start the next chapter and trust that the fire my God has started will guide me where I need to go. Yes, it’s scary. But it’s exciting too.
So grab hold of your own fire and walk through those woods. Even if it scares you, even if it hurts. Even if it asks you to let go of something you thought you needed.
You can do it. And so can I.