2025: The Year I Write My Book

I struggle with focus a lot; not the actual act of focusing once I sit down to do something, but setting guardrails on my creativity, choosing what piece(s) to prioritize and focus on and what topics to explore more. It’s a commitment thing, really. I’m a collector; I like collecting information and knowledge and there are few topics that don’t capture my attention (like math). 

I want to write it all and read it all, explore it all and question it all. Prioritization isn’t a problem at my day job, where I’m also accountable to others. With my creative work, though, I have to make all the decisions for myself while wrangling my rhizomatic mind and hoping for the best. At work, I can seamlessly go from A to B to C, which is how I love to operate because it brings order to my brain. Left to my own devices, it’s kind of chaotic in there; it can be as exciting as it is overwhelming, which is why I think I love control (or the illusion of it, at least). Being a successful artist is hard because you also need a diligent, strategic side; this side takes up time and energy (and it’s the most tedious part), but it is necessary. 

Currently, I have a lot of pieces on several different stages. Poems, non-fiction, some fiction; ideating, drafting, editing, revising, waiting for feedback, submitting, or in the stage I call deep sleep. I have spreadsheets and systems to keep track of all this, but I often ask myself, where is this all going—where am I going? I love the act of writing, but I won’t sit here and pretend I don’t care about recognition. I’ve published some pieces, and I want to publish more pieces; I want to have a successful career trajectory. Success, to me, means building a body of work I’m proud of and can share with the world.

For a while now, I’ve been feeling like I have this book inside me. It sounds cliché, but it’s an accurate epigram to convey the narrative pregnancy that wants out—needs out. There’s an abundance that keeps leaking in ways good and bad. 

I’ve been putting off the book because I know it will require a level of commitment that will force me to shunt aside so many other pieces and projects. It will force me to focus intensely on one big thing, and I think that’s what I need to move forward. When I look at my work, most of my essays and poems share a common theme; my goal is to create fresh new material while bringing together some of those existing pieces in a cohesive and artful way. To add to the challenge, I’m venturing into my least explored genre: fiction. 

I will also count on the mentorship of Scott Dikkers (the founder of The Onion), which is the other component I need for accountability. Otherwise, I can’t ensure I won’t get distracted by all the other things I want to write, the unimportant and overrated tasks, and all the funny cat videos. Scott is a thoughtful, inspiring, humble, and generous mentor (I recommend his Substack, No Dikkering Around), and through him, I’m also connected to other writers who are in a similar boat. 

I know how rewarding it will be to settle on one piece to work on more deeply, and to do so while not being completely isolated in the endeavor. The goal is to have my book in my hands by the end of December 2025. Wish me words:)