Hi Reader,

Writing excellent novels is really freaking hard.

It is so incredibly hard to craft a story that moves people. So unfathomably difficult to write a novel that

. . . immerses your readers in the mind and experience of characters so rich, they feel like real people

. . . captures readers’ imagination so fully they feel like they’re living inside of it

. . . makes your readers feel big feels

. . . sticks in your readers’ mind long after they finish the final page

. . . reshapes how they see and understand the world

Writing that kind of novel takes years of work—so many more years than we want it to.

It takes time and money and effort. It takes the curiosity to learn and the resilience to revise—again, and again, and yet again. It takes tapping into your deepest wells of creativity and skill and endurance.

It asks so much of us.

So why do it?

Why pursue this lofty goal? Why put ourselves through the strife of climbing this Everest?

We don’t do it for the money. As the saying goes, “if you want to make a small fortune in publishing, start with a large one.”

Nor do we do it for the fame or accolades. Publishing is not a meritocracy, as much as we wish it were. There are no guarantees of praise or recognition.

What, then, are we seeking? What’s the satisfaction of the climb, the reward for reaching the summit?

Two essentials stand out to me—two things we can attain:

The joy of the process.

There’s something to love about the act of writing itself—

. . . expressing an idea in words on the page

. . . exploring, discovering, inventing, telling yourself a story you’ve never heard before as you write the first draft

. . . seeing that story come to life in revision

. . . refining, honing, finessing every sentence into its most powerful and emotionally resonant form

Take writing out of your life, and you would miss something. The absence of that creative outlet would be painful.

The work is its own joy, a draw you can’t walk away from. It is more satisfying to climb this Everest yourself than to stand at the bottom and watch others on their way up.

Yet, at the same time, that very work is extraordinarily difficult.

Not every moment of writing an excellent novel is fun, per se. Not every day is an uplifting delight. There are times of drudgery and frustration and disappointment.

So, when the process isn’t sparking joy, something else must sustain us. When the climb is a painful slog, we must look towards the summit and envision the reward:

The impact of excellent stories.

In order to choose to pursue this work, we have to believe that it matters.

Excellent stories have to matter. Otherwise, why pour so much of your time, your energy, your money, your self into the process of creating them?

The good news is, excellent stories do matter.

They challenge what we think. They shift what we believe. They are empathy-generating machines, working a mystical magic of placing us inside someone else’s life and experience. They shape how we understand each other and ourselves.

In other words, excellent stories can change the world.

And if you ever doubt that they do, just look at Google investing in Hollywood—because the stories we tell about technology impact Google’s bottom line.

Though the work to craft excellent stories may be far beyond what we bargained for . . .

. . . their potential to create impact is beyond what we can imagine.

* * *

The work is hard. So incredibly hard. I won’t sugarcoat it or lie to you.

And no one, no one, is required to summit Everest. You could choose to climb Kilimanjaro or Rainier instead. Or you could decide that you prefer hiking through the woods or camping by a lake, not climbing to the tops of mountains.

Put another way: no one is required to pursue writing an excellent novel. You get to decide for yourself what your own measure of satisfaction and delight in writing is. A novel revised through three drafts and then published. A series of rapid-release romance novels. A collection of short stories (another masterful art form!).

But suppose you do choose this Everest. Suppose you do decide to to push yourself to the edges of your skills and imagination and endurance. Suppose you decide to see what you can create when you pour your absolute all into a novel.

Know this:

That work is joyful. It is, itself, its own delight.

It is also really, really, really hard. Much more difficult and time-consuming and demanding of you than you ever imagined.

And above all: it matters.

It is worth it, every minute, every tear and drop of sweat. Because the impact your novel can create on the readers who encounter it is immeasurable.

So keep going, climber.

The process and the result are worth the work.

Happy editing,

Alice

P.S. No one summits Mount Everest alone. If you’re aiming to craft an excellent novel, I’d love to help you get there. Hit reply with “Everest” and I’ll share the details on how I can support you in your revision process.