UPDATED JUNE 2020

Have you ever woken up from a dream, and for just a moment you thought it could have been real? That’s how my adventure of writing a novel began.

In April 2019, I was blessed to celebrate a friend’s upcoming wedding at her bachelorette party. Now these events usually get a “dirty” connotation with all kinds of phallic-shaped objects and sloppy drunken shenanigans, but this (thankfully) was not that kind of party. I met some great women, connected with a few I hadn’t talked to in far too long, and overall had a very pleasant night.

The scenery was idyllic: a remote, hilly area with trees and narrow back roads for miles.

We were all sharing a large cabin in the woods, and there was plenty of space for everyone. The scenery was idyllic: a remote, hilly area with trees and narrow back roads for miles. The cell phone service was poor, and the WiFi was nonexistent, which, despite how it might sound, was a great reprieve from the urge to get online rather than spending time with the ladies around me.

April 2019

I was overtired when I went to bed, and didn’t sleep well. I never really sleep well under conditions where I’m not familiar with my surroundings, and/or away from my husband and dog.

Typically, with this combination of circumstances, I dream vividly. Not the kind of dream that leads you into a peaceful sleep where you wake up feeling refreshed, but the kind of dream where you feel actively involved and wake up feeling like you lived a different day overnight.

It was all very dramatic.

During this particular dream, there were two people, one young man who seemed familiar in a vague sort of way, and the other a young lady who seemed a lot like me in my younger years. They were both on the younger side of college age. The girl was taking refuge in her university’s library to get away from her problems, and the young man was her friend who found her and came to comfort her. It was all very dramatic.

When I woke up, I shook off the fuzzy feeling from not sleeping well, but that particular moment lingered in my mind. Who was that guy and why did he feel familiar? And that particular moment had definitely not occurred in my life, so why did it feel like a memory?

Amidst the hubbub of having breakfast and packing up my things to leave, I lost track of the scene. I absentmindedly wondered if it would come back to me.

I began the two hour drive home, and it was back.

I began the two hour drive home, and it was back. Crystal clear. A name for the guy, and why he felt familiar. He looked like someone I had recently met, but with the personality of someone I had known for years. It was almost like something out of a movie, that scene from my dream. Or, a really good dramatic book.

I thought about that guy, and that girl, whom I surmise had very similar experiences to me, the entire way home. By the time I hit the highway (we were pretty remote!), both people had a name. By the time I had been driving an hour, they had a story arc together. By the time I arrived home, I had two scenes in a creative work I couldn’t define or say where it was going.

Country roads make for good contemplation!

As soon as I got home, I wrote down the scene I dreamed. It was much more brief on paper than it seemed in my mind: just 425 words. But then, another scene came pouring out. This scene was a little longer, just over 800 words, and is still my favorite scene in the entire piece.

So, there I sat, with about 1,200 words written of this thing I dreamed about. It was the first substantial creative thing I had written in 7 years. SEVEN YEARS. And I wrote 1,200 words in an hour.

The next day I wrote another scene. And so I’ve continued. The longest scene is about 7 ½ pages, and the shortest is just a page. I typically do one scene per sitting, and it’s rarely linear. Now I have 24 scenes with more than 25,000 words. Over this past year I went from nothing to 100+ pages of creative writing.

Before those two scenes, there was just a dream. A movie-esque or dramatic book that took all of 15-20 minutes to write down. The characters have grown organically, and plot twists have come up. Because the girl in my dream felt so familiar, that I am using many of my own experiences, and those of people I know to build her character and those with whom she interacts.

When I first started writing again, I was scared to call it a novel.

When I first started writing again, I was scared to call it a novel. I mean, that’s a pretty lofty goal, right? An average novel is about 100,000 words, give or take depending on the genre, author, etc. But, by the second week of May, when I had 20 pages and in depth character profiles for each main character, I was less timid. By the beginning of June, I was calling it a novel or a book, but only to my close friends. Now, here I am, telling you all about my novel. It’s pretty crazy how fast these things can change.

As it stands, my best friend and confidant who conveniently has a graduate degree in Creative Writing, reads it every few new sections, and has thoroughly enjoyed it. I can’t write it fast enough. Does this boost my confidence? Absolutely! Will there be others who dislike it? Yes! And that’s okay.

So, here I am, a writer, a blogger, a dreamer, on the verge of a novel that I’ve dreamed of writing since I was a child. Words and stories have always been dear to me, and I feel like I have brought back a part of me that was hiding for a long time. Even after a year, it’s been a joyful process, although I know there will likely be frustration along the road.

My process might be unique, but I know I am not the only person who has experienced something like this. I know many amazing writers! What is your story? What pieces of my story would you like to hear as I write my novel?

Find me on social media, drop a comment below, or email me at rachel@capturingyourconfidence.com!

Let’s chat because you, my friend, are on your way to great writing.

The Adventures of Writing a Novel

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