So, What is My Book About?

Checking in With My Book Idea

Yesterday marked my 30th post — my 30th day of writing deliberately. Doing this daily has been a welcome addition to my life. While I am surprised by my own consistency, the act of writing itself comes quite naturally. This does not feel like work (yet). There’s always something rattling around in my head, and it’s almost therapeutic to have this as a means of getting it out.

I was chatting with my brother on Saturday, and of course, the conversation of what’s going on, what are we up to, etc. came up. When I tried to describe what my book was about (which is of course what people will ask when you tell them you are writing a book — which I somehow keep forgetting), I faltered for the right words. Yep: still working on my elevator pitch.

Here’s what I know:

I don’t have an elevator pitch yet. I don’t have that pithy, clear couple of sentences that summarizes what my book is about. My writing teacher in art school memorably said, “If you can’t explain what you’re thinking, you don’t have an idea”. Stretching this out, you could say, “If you can’t explain it simply, your idea’s not that strong.” Or this: the more words you need to explain your idea, the less powerful that idea is. And after 30 days of writing, this is where I am. I am still using too many words to describe my book. But I am not discouraged. I know from my illustration practice that before things become clearer, they get more complicated. You have to make a mess before you make things better. This writing blog is my mess. It’s where I come not to make that one, clearly laid out book, once and for all, but to extract what’s inside and put it out to behold. I’m mining for gold, and this is the ore. There’s still more refinement ahead.

I know from my illustration process, and also from my class writing process, that it takes time to have a good idea. You have an initial idea (perhaps you can call it inspiration), and then you follow it. You write, you do brainstorming exercises, charts, you talk about it, you leave sticky notes up on your wall, you record voice memos while you’re out on a run. The important thing is that your mind is working on the problem.

If you can’t explain what you’re thinking, you don’t have an idea.

Seth Godin talks about how when you keep a daily blog, suddenly you pay more attention. You are actively looking for things to write about. (This is a paraphrase). This is what is happening right now.

But on Saturday, when I was talking to my brother, I did wonder if perhaps it was time to jump to the next level. It’s comfortable coming here to write, but not so comfortable pushing myself to think more critically about the patterns of my writing are, what my actual idea is. That’s work. I knew in that moment that it was okay to not have the “elevator pitch” down yet, that there was no shame in that. But I also realized that the time was coming when having a clearer idea of what the book is about would be more pressing. That time is around the corner.

What can I glean from what I’ve written so far? What are the themes that keep coming up? What are my “pet” issues? What do I seem to care about most? I could ask the same about my work outside of this blog. What have I returned to in my Skillshare classes and YouTube videos? What about my mini essays on Instagram and my quips on Twitter? What sense can I make of all these messes I made? How can I turn my messes into a message?

First, I have to take stock of my big “why”. Why I am writing this book? I need to revisit my initial purpose statement from a few weeks ago, and perhaps focus it and get more specific.

Next, I have to take stock of what I have been writing about—what are my pet issues, or, in other words, what do I care most about? What do I keep circling around? That is my message. Then I have to gather these thoughts, perhaps sorting them out into different categories or themes.

How can I turn my messes into a message?

Then, I have to ask, do these themes work together as a set? Or do I choose just one and go deep on it? (Always, I am checking back to my purpose statement or statements, to see how well they align).

From there, I will have what I need to start extracting the gold from the ore. If writing here is like mining for the raw ore, this process of getting more specific about what I am writing, about gathering and sorting and focusing, is the milling part. Mining is extracting raw material from the earth; milling is getting the element you really want in its purest form.

Right now I am at the transition between mining and milling. It may end up being rather quick, and perhaps in a month I will have my most powerful idea ready. Or it could take a few more months of writing yet. But sooner than later, I will have that “elevator pitch” ready. I really hate that term, but it summarizes where I am headed. When people ask me “what is your book about”, I can say it in as few words, as clearly as possible.

p.s. I wanted to actually go into the first part of this process today (refining my initial purpose statement), but that turned out to be a much longer exercise that I have time for today. Instead, today just lays down the road map for the overall process of refining my book concept moving forward.