The Story Living In Your Chest

Most people have a story living in their chest they will never write.

Not because they don’t have the talent. Not because the timing is wrong. Not because they need one more course, one more sign, one more “right moment” that keeps not arriving. But because somewhere along the way they decided that wanting it was embarrassing. That trying and failing publicly was worse than never trying at all. That the people who actually do it must have something they don’t.

That is a lie your fear told you and you believed it.

Then Write It.

I was standing in my kitchen eight months ago. Venting to my book bestie over Voxer about a book slump. Ranting about exactly what I wanted to read and could not find. A woman in her 40s who was the whole point of her own story. A small town that felt lived in and real. A narrator with opinions and data and the audacity to care about everyone in it.

She said “then write it.”

I almost talked myself out of it before I even started. I am a former emergency veterinarian. I homeschool twins. I have four Newfoundlands and a cat who owns the pillow and tolerates my presence. I had every reasonable excuse to put it down before I picked it up. Too busy. Too late. Too far outside the lane I was supposed to stay in.

I wrote it anyway. And somewhere in the middle of building a town from nothing... I found a piece of myself I didn’t know was missing.

Not a skill. Not a platform. Not a strategy.

A piece of myself.

 

Your Process Doesn’t Have To Look Like Theirs. 

Here is the thing nobody tells you about writing a book. And honestly, about doing anything that matters.

Everyone has a unique process. In hindsight that makes complete sense. But when you are in the middle of it, your process feels inadequate because it doesn’t look like what you imagined it was supposed to look like.

I thought writing a book meant sitting down every single day at a specific time to produce a specific number of words. Disciplined. Structured. Scheduled. That version of writing looks great on a productivity reel. It also had absolutely nothing to do with my actual life.

I am a mama homeschooling twins while training like an endurance athlete. A rigid daily word count wasn’t a writing process. It was a setup for failure and guilt and eventually quitting.

So I threw it out.

What I discovered was this... you write when you are able. When the idea arrives. When a chapter reveals itself at the most inconvenient possible moment. Maybe that’s a voice note to yourself while you’re driving because a line of dialogue showed up and you refuse to lose it. Maybe it’s shower markers mapping out a plot problem on the tiles because that’s where your brain finally goes quiet. Maybe it’s typing in your Notes app while your kid is at jiu-jitsu and you have exactly 47 minutes and you are going to use every single one of them.

You make it yours. You make it work.

Your writing process doesn’t have to look like everyone else’s. And honestly... that doesn’t just apply to writing, does it, love? You already know that.

The point is not the process. The point is that you keep going.

Flip It And Reverse It. 

Now let’s talk about the part nobody wants to admit out loud.

There are going to be excuses. There is going to be the creeping feeling of inadequacy that shows up right when you finally get momentum. And there is going to be that voice... the one that says who the f--k do you think you are doing this?

I know that voice. It visited me regularly.

But every single time it showed up, I learned to ask a different question. What if the reverse was true? What if the excuses were the lie? What if the feeling of inadequacy was just the opposite of the truth... and I am actually the exact right person to do this, at exactly this moment, with exactly this story?

When you flip it. When you speak the opposite of fear out loud, over and over again, your brain starts to believe it. That is not toxic positivity. That is not manifesting nonsense. That is neuroscience. Your brain is a pattern-recognition machine and it will find evidence for whatever story you keep telling it. Tell it a better story.

So do like Missy Elliott. Flip it and reverse it.

Then do the damn thing.

You Are The Point. 

If you are reading this and you have a story living in your chest that you keep talking yourself out of... this is for you.

Not because I have it all figured out. Not because the road from kitchen Voxer rant to published author has been clean or linear or free of moments where I wondered what I was thinking.

But because I started before it felt safe. Because I wrote in voice notes and shower markers and stolen jiu-jitsu minutes. Because every time the fear showed up I flipped it. Because eight months later I have a complete manuscript, a developmental editor locked for September, and a launch date by end of year (fingers-crossed).

I am not the same woman who stood in that kitchen convinced the book she wanted didn’t exist yet.

She exists. I wrote her.

The only difference between the woman who writes the book and the woman who doesn’t is the decision to start before it feels safe.

It never feels safe.

You start anyway.

Fate + Tassels… you can click HERE to join waitlist :)

Now it’s your turn.

Drop me comment with the lie that’s been holding you back... and let’s flip it. 

♥️ ALG