Writing the Books We Want to Write (Or: How to Stop Drafting the Manuscript You Think You’re Supposed to Produce and Start Drafting the One That Won’t Leave You Alone)
There is a special kind of exhaustion reserved for writers who are halfway through a book they do not actually want to write. You know the one. It sounded smart. It sounded marketable. It sounded like something a “serious author” would produce while wearing glasses they do not need and drinking tea that tastes like bark. It may even have a tidy outline and a compelling subtitle with a colon in it. And yet. You open the document and feel like you’re clocking in for a shift. That is not inspiration. That is literary customer service. Meanwhile, in the back of your mind, there’s another book. The inconvenient one. The weird one. The one that blends investing with existential dread, or neuroscience with sarcasm, or mystical folklore with Midwestern budgeting strategies. The one that feels slightly dangerous to admit you’re writing. That book will not let you sleep. This blog is about that book. The Myth of the “Correct” Book Writers absorb invisible rules early: Write what se...