How I Surrendered to the Creative Flow and Wrote a Book

A little voice whispered into my ear… (Image courtesy of worldofmiri.com)

This story found me…

At the beginning of my healing journey, my intuitive therapist told me she could see me writing books, having a blog and owning a website. I was aghast. Me? A blog? I couldn’t see that happening. What would I even blog about? I didn’t have anything of importance to share, did I?

Still, the part about writing books was intriguing. A childhood dream floated back into my conscious mind. Had I not always wanted to be a writer? Was I not always writing something?

Even throughout my corporate career and as a mum of toddlers, I had never really ceased to write. In fact, there are at least three unfinished novels, a few children’s stories, and countless poems sitting on my computer, waiting to be released into the wild.

Still, I had never made the conscious decision to call myself a writer. Maybe because I did not trust my skills? Maybe because I did not think my writing was worth sharing?

After my therapist pointed me into the direction of writing, it took me another two years before I decided to dedicate myself 100%. The kids were old enough to allow me more space, I was in the fortunate position not to have to earn money, and I felt strong enough after going through my deep depression. The outer circumstances appeared perfect. When else would be a better moment?

I stopped the few private lessons I was still teaching and committed to writing every day. I made writing my priority. Everything else had to wait: laundry, cooking, social connection, and sports. This was different. On some days, I only managed to write for thirty minutes. On other days, I lasted up to four hours. I wrote poems, worked on several novels, or journaled; all in my native tongue (German).

One day, about three months into the practice, I was outside sweeping the driveway. It was a monotonous activity which felt meditative. My mind was open and clear. There was nothing to think about, only the next stroke of the broom.

Suddenly, a voice popped into my head and started telling me a story.

It went like this:

“Phew, we made it!” Master Mouse sighed with relief. They had reached a plateau nestled among the chain of hills that separated the Land of the Rivers from the Land of the Woods.

Master Mouse took a deep breath and looked around at his companions. Gemma the Giraffe was gazing over the horizon. Robert Pig was snuffling around in search of food. No surprises there.

Master Mouse’s face crumbled. One teammate was missing. He was quite sure of it. Reluctantly, he counted, “One. Two. Three.” He was number one, of course. Giraffe was two. Robert Pig was three. Number four? Missing. They had started out as a team of four. Everyone had been put in teams of four.

Master Mouse sighed again. He couldn’t let the others realize they’d lost one of their team members already, just half an hour after being sent on their first assignment. Their first quest, to be exact. On the other hand, would the other team members even notice? They each seemed to be lost in their own worlds. After a moment of consideration, Master Mouse decided there was more important business than locating a lost teammate. After all, he was here for successful questing! He rubbed his front paws together excitedly. How he had been anticipating this moment! Nothing would spoil it now. Nothing would keep him from becoming what he was meant to be: Master Mouse, Official Hero and Quester. Leader of the team. A legend.

Master Mouse cleared his throat and squeaked, “Team! I’m here to guide you on this quest! Listen! Here is the plan….”

Nobody took any notice. This was no good.”

The voice kept talking. It was as if a microphone was attached to my ear blurting out the words. I chuckled while the characters formed in my mind’s eye. I felt a strong urge to record the story. When I finished sweeping, I went to my computer and started typing.

However, after a few sentenced, I stopped. The story had come to me in English. My mother tongue is German. Everything I had written up to that point had been in German. I did not feel confident enough to write in my second language. I sighed and translated the first sentences of the story into German. As I re-read my own words, I grumbled. They did not sound right. They felt chunky and misplaced.

I had run into a problem. I did not believe I could write a proper book in English as this was not my native tongue. But the German words were stuck in my throat. I could not get the story to flow.

The voice next to my ear persisted.

After a quick internal battle, I surrendered and decided to give it a go. I committed to writing down the story. In English. I had one condition: I wanted a good editor.

The next six weeks went by in a haze. I worked on “Heroes of the Quest” every day. I sat down in front of the computer and asked for inspiration. I followed whatever spin the voice in my head decided to give to the story. Often, I had to laugh out loud. The twists coming in were too funny. I enjoyed recording the book and fell in love with the quirky characters.

This story had found me. My job was to bring it into this world.

Since it was supposed to be a children’s book, I thought the story needed illustrations.

A few days later, an illustrator appeared.

My daughter’s art teacher asked me to sit for her because she wanted to paint from a live model. During one of those sessions, I told her about my book and read out the first pages. In the evening, I received a text and she asked if she could do the illustrations. I could not have asked for a better partner. The paintings are stunning and truly beautiful.

When the story was finished, I remembered how I needed an editor. It was mid-December and we were attending a Christmas party of my kinesiologist who had just opened her new clinic. We were about to leave when I heard someone say, “I am an editor.” I spun around, pounced at the lady, and asked for her details. We had never met before, but it turned out to be the perfect match. We started working together after the holidays.

“Heroes of the Quest - An Impossible Team” is by now fully edited and illustrated. It is a gorgeous story about four animals on a quest. These four could not be more different and they all have their individual weaknesses. The main message of the story is to accept ourselves, and everyone else, how we are and that it is perfect to be imperfect. I know the right publisher will appear with divine timing. I trust the universe in this.

After finishing “An Impossible Team”, I was unsure what to write next. This was when I received guidance to write about my own healing journey. At first, I thought I might publish my story as a book, but then COVID appeared and I felt my story might help others going through similar situations triggered by the pandemic. My book, though, was far from being finished. My editor suggested publishing my learnings in blog form. The idea felt exciting and scary at the same time, which I took as a clear sign to go ahead.

This was the moment I remembered what my therapist told me in my very first session. “You will have a blog one day.”

I grinned. Of course. This was the solution. Why had I not thought of this earlier?

PS: And here is the website!!

PPS: Find out more about Heroes of the Quest here! ♥