With The Patience of A Redwood Forest

June 2026

There’s a lot that goes into becoming an Author. 

We study craft: outlining, plot development, and pacing.  We steal the physical and emotional mannerisms of the strangers we encounter (and sometimes the people we know well).  We eavesdrop on conversations in cafés and restaurants.  We study maps.  We go on deep-dive Google rabbit holes to validate hunches, and don’t dare erase our browser history in case we need to triple-check that information… even though we know if someone finds it, we’d have a hard time explaining any of it reasonably.  We travel, talk to docents, and take notes (whether to exotic destinations or simply the grocery store) to add authenticity to what we imagine.

We write, edit, rewrite, rewrite, and edit some more.  We hand off our manuscripts to alpha and beta readers – some of whom can be incredibly brutal in their appraisals of our work, and we learn from it all.  We invest in the skills and experience of professional editors, proofreaders, illustrators, formatters, and cover designers.  We work to create logos, brands, marketing plans, t-shirts, and swag.  We refine our back cover synopsis to recite at festivals and bookshop signing events, enticing new readers to take a chance on our work.

The sweat equity a writer invests never ends… even when we’re simply staring out the window, thinking up the next story, poem, or impossible plot twist.  All of that “non-productive” effort is just as critical to the process and the outcome.  Really great ideas don’t simply germinate on their own.  It takes effort, sacrifice, and so many hours zoned out in business meetings or staring at the clouds during our lunch hour that we miss those meetings; it’s incalculable (even to people who understand math).

Writing, whether as an impassioned hobby or an invested occupation, can be met with strange looks from our friends and family, and gentle asides from strangers that question our sanity.  We often endure near-psychotic voices that sometimes yell or whisper in the dark when we’re trying to sleep.  We stumble through the mornings after trying to remember, with our brain’s Swiss cheese memory hitting harder than a fraternity party hangover.

We read an unfathomable number of books written by other authors, both Indie and Trad – in every genre known to the literary industry – to learn the techniques they used to create compelling stories and captivating characters.  We become inspired by (and sometimes borrow) what we read on all the pages we consume, inhale, and try to understand so we can constantly improve our work.

Dedicating time to the written word is not for the faint of heart.  Or the lazy.  Or the easily distracted.  Or the easily frustrated.  It takes several hundred hours, days, dollars, and the enduring patience of a mother octopus, guarding her eggs, waiting for them to hatch.  (Just for the record, one was observed waiting off the coast of California for 4.5 years without ever leaving to hunt! *Discover Magazine)

Writing isn’t something that happens overnight.  Okay, sure, there are savants in every discipline, writing included, but that’s not the norm.  It takes study, practice, trust, and patience to realize even a modicum of success. 

Studying craft, whether through a formal degree program or “extracurricular” creative writing classes, seminars, workshops, and accountability groups, isn’t a quick process.  It takes a lot of time, and most writers continue learning and growing in their craft until the day they breathe their last.  This author thing is a moving target, always growing, changing, adapting… one never really “masters” it. 

As with sports, writing takes continuous practice.  You get up every day and put words on the page to improve your skills, hone your instincts, and glean new insights into how your particular brain and body process the words to get them out.  You build muscle memory and constantly push it to the next “record” to grow stronger.  Even after retirement, swimmers still do laps and volunteer as summer lifeguards at the community pool; basketball players still shoot hoops with the grandchildren; baseball players have a catch with the neighborhood kids.  They do it not only to keep themselves sharp and alive in the thing they love… but also to pass on that passion to the next generation.  Writers do the same with words.  We weave them together, endlessly trying every new approach.  We explore new techniques and teach the next generation of writers through the stories we leave behind.

Writers are predisposed to imposter syndrome.  It can be difficult to remind ourselves that our voice is as important as any other we’ve read.  It can be a real challenge to remember that our work is just as valid as any other book we’ve seen on a shelf.  It’s a struggle because so much of what writers do happens in a solitary environment.  We don’t always get outside reminders, especially during the creation phase, to refuel our resolve, which means sometimes we leak self-doubt.

This is why trust is such an important skill to acquire when pulling what’s inside your soul out, and dumping it onto the page for the world to read.  Writers must not only trust the process, but also trust that what they create will find an audience of ardent fans who will clamor time and again for everything that comes from their pen (or keyboard).  Without that trust, the writing life can be emotionally, intellectually, and financially debilitating.  Trust is what keeps us coming back to the page.  Trust is what reminds us why we love what we do.

But patience?  It’s the most important quality to deliberately develop if you are interested in publishing a book.  This writing and publishing thing moves at a glacial pace… slower than glaciers, actually, when you consider how our Earth is changing.  Still, climate science and passionate debunkers aside, patience is the thing that will predict an author’s success or failure. 

Waiting is hard.  Taking our time through the editorial process to catch the smallest of errors and make the work the best it can be is not easy.  Throughout the creation phase (which is often the “fun” part), the anticipation of typing “The End” is almost more than we can stomach.  Our brains work faster than our hands, and it easily fills in the blanks we often miss – because, let’s face it, imagination is magical.  Watching the sales numbers increase by tiny increments… building a newsletter following… hoping for royalty checks… waiting for readers to write reviews… it all takes SO MUCH TIME.  If what you’re looking for is the instant gratification of bestseller notoriety after your first book, I highly suggest you find another passion to pursue. 

Writers must slog through decades of hard work and mountains of rejection to become an overnight success.  If you’re not in it for the long haul, cut yourself some slack, and do something else like axe throwing, or riding in the Kentucky Derby, or training to be an astronaut so you can go on the next flight to the moon.  You’ll save yourself a lot of time and heartache.

Because, seriously, growing an author career is about as speedy as growing the redwood forest to full maturity.  Be ready for long days and nights protecting the habitat, watering, and watching new leaves sprout every season, as each branch becomes a little stronger, and your tree grows a little taller.  But, if you’re patient enough, and really fall in love with the tiny, slow-paced details… there’s no better view than lying on a blanket, staring up at the canopy on a warm summer’s day, reading and falling in love with someone else’s words as you imagine and begin work on your next great story or poem.