How My Own Book is Saving Me.
Plus: Lean into the possibilities of what could be + let's bring back mind wandering and knitting while we wait in line!
Hey you. I’m so happy you’re here! It is an absolute joy to welcome you, come on in! I hope this letter feels like a break in the rain of the continual go-go-go of your daily life. Let’s chat shall we?!
This week’s Welcome Wanderer includes:
a reflection on writing my first novel and the unexpected lesson I’ve learned,
a prompt to explore the fringes of what could be,
and what we can do when we’re waiting, instead of just killing time.
Let’s go for a little walk together and breathe in some fresh air…
I never expected to write a fiction book. As an obsessive non-fiction reader, I'd always imagined myself as an aspiring memoirist. Surprise! A few years later, here I am—constantly perusing the latest fiction releases, a TBR list a mile long, and hundreds of finished novels under my belt.
And the biggest surprise of all, I'm knee-deep in a Novel Structure course, chipping away at a creative writing certificate. I almost backed out—on the grounds that I hadn't written fiction since fourth grade when I turned in a story about Santa skipping Christmas to laze around on the beaches of Hawaii instead. (I can still see my hand-drawn cover so clearly- Santa with his shirt off, baring his big white belly in the sun!)
Honestly, it's scary to mention this new endeavor. I don’t want to jinx it—to be all talk, so I continue to do the work. Lay out chapters, obsess over plot points, dig into the beats I need for a binge-able story, all while being guided by the most down-to-earth, best-selling author and teacher. And my classmates? They're more than I could've asked for—brilliant, supportive, and fiercely protective of each other's fledgling stories.
But there’s no place on the syllabus or dedicated class lecture yet for the most unexpected lesson I’m learning through this process: the art of mind wandering.
Regularly, I feel the need to lay face down on the floor in a quiet room and think. I think about my characters, sit them down for an imaginary chat, ask them what they want with their lives—their fears, aspirations, past wounds, and the story they're hoping to live.
My mind wanders while I ride my bike, grocery shop, chop vegetables, cook dinner, shower, dry my hair, swim laps, and listen to audiobooks. It drifts aimlessly, trying on scenarios, turning narrative knobs, fiddling with relationships, and tossing complicated curveballs into my characters' lives just to see how they’ll respond.
I'm so caught up in this world that I'm dreaming about my characters—waking up to pee and immediately thinking about them, as if they’re real people.
And you know what? They are real people.
My characters represent what can happen in our own lives when we let our minds wander—when we flirt with the edges of our imagination and remember we're not locked into one plotline. There are a million pathways we haven't even considered.
Decisions can paralyze us with fear. We leap to worst-case scenarios and forget to follow the story all the way through. But here’s the thing: It doesn’t end with you alone. It doesn’t end with you scraping by. It doesn’t end with you frazzled, burnt out, hospitalized, or stuck, scared, and unable to move forward.
I had no idea how many hours of mind wandering it would take to figure out my novel’s arc. At first, it felt strange—even irresponsible—to spend so much time in an alternate reality, sipping invisible tea with people who only existed in my head.
But if my main characters can go anywhere, become anything, and create lives they truly love—even in the midst of grief, heartache, homesickness, and one challenge after another—then why can’t I, why can’t you, do the same?
You’re not hemmed in. No one knows the ending, even though sometimes we think we do. Unearth the courage to lean into possibility —to let your mind wander freely into the beautiful mystery, where your next chapters wait to be experienced.
Have you already determined how a specific decision or path might pan out?
Be curious about…what other outcomes might be feasible.
Let your mind wander more. Stretch the limits of your imagination. Stare out a window. Write down random ideas. Come up with 10 other paths you might be able to take.
I’d like to introduce you to author and researcher Christine Rosen, a passionate advocate for the benefits of mind wandering. In her book, Extinction of Experience: Reclaiming Our Humanity in a Digital World, she devotes an entire chapter to how we’ve replaced boredom with constant distraction and stimulation.
We no longer know how to wait, we crave efficiency in our day-to-day experiences and human interactions and reach for “mediated methods” to fill every quiet moment. We have “commodified distraction, the long-term impacts of which we’re only beginning to fathom.”
Rosen writes,
“A culture without boredom undermines the act of daydreaming something interstitial time used to be given over to. Daydreaming seems a fusty term in an age when productivity and usefulness are prized. But as psychologists and neurologists have found, a wandering mind, often the first signal of impending boredom, is also a creative mind.”
Don’t be afraid to wander into the depths of your own mind.
You might see the face of someone you need to reconnect with, meet an unspoken desire, or talk yourself through a nagging problem. You might confront fear and come out stronger, unearth a long-buried dream, hear the whisper of your next step, or stumble upon the door to a new adventure.
You might surprise yourself at how productive you can be when you wander! So twiddle your thumbs, grab your knitting needles, or doodle on the back of a receipt while you wait…steer your mind in a beautiful direction and see what stories unfold!
Okay, I’m hopping on my bike to visit a friend’s shop and stop at the library for another book haul! Please let me know what spoke to you in this letter. Did anything specific give you a jolt of energy or inspiration or stop you in your tracks?
I’d love to hear!
Out here with you!
