the book that shows up

I’ve written about this before, but it hit home last week that I really need to embrace the book that shows up, not the one that’s in my head or the book I imagine it will be.

Like most writers, I’m sure, I’ll get an idea in my head for a glorious, entertaining, fun, sexy, thought-provoking, emotional, deep, meaningful book.

I’ll sit down and outline it. I’ll write and write and write.

And then I’ll get what actually shows up (after weeks and weeks of writing and weeks and weeks of editing).

There’s a serious gap between the two—the book in my head and the book on the page—because the finished book rarely looks anywhere near what I thought it would look like. Sometimes it resembles it. Usually the characters are who I wanted them to be, but sometimes they aren’t. But almost always, things happen to the characters that I did not plan—and things I plan don’t occur.

What I’ve learned is that’s okay. I’ve learned to celebrate the book that actually comes when I’m writing, because that’s a different book than the one in my head.

How many things are like this? The Halloween/Thanksgiving/Christmas/birthday party/other hyped-up holiday in your head and the one that actually occurs? And the relationships/jobs/homes/clothes/body that you actually live with.

Acknowledging that there’s a gap between the two has really helped me. There’s the book in my brain. And there’s the book that shows up when I sit down and write. And I should celebrate the one that actually shows up.