The end that is a beginning

Today I finished typing out my book notes. It felt good to finally have it done, but it’s also scary. Now the real work begins.

I need to find the angle in it all and start writing the story I want to tell. I’m scared and excited. I want to keep going and I also want to hide from it.

It took me three weeks to type out all the notes. I was doing it slowly and now I’m convinced that I was pushing away this moment when I have to start writing this book for real.

Typing out the notes was my way of dipping my toes. Of getting hold of the story. I was stretching this moment as long as I could and now that it’s done I don’t know where to start.

So tomorrow I’ll sit down at my desk and just write, because bad words are better than none.

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