Lies We Tell Before Writing a Book
A gentle inventory of delusion, optimism, and unchecked confidence.
Every writer has a sacred pre-book ritual.
It’s called Lying to Yourself.
You sit down with a fresh idea and think:
This one will be different.
It won’t be.
Lie #1: This draft will be clean
You tell yourself you’ve learned.
You’ve read craft books.
You’ve taken notes.
You’ve matured.
This time the first draft will emerge graceful and coherent.
Instead it will look like:
three opening chapters that contradict each other
a protagonist with no consistent eye colour
a plot hole large enough to rent out
But sure. Clean draft.
Lie #2: I’ll write a little every day
You imagine yourself disciplined. Calm. Focused.
What actually happens:
Day 1: 4,000 words of manic brilliance.
Day 2: collapse.
Day 3: research spiral about medieval door hinges.
Day 4: identity crisis.
Consistency is a rumour.
Lie #3: This idea is simple
You say this with confidence.
It’s just one character. One central conflict.
By chapter six you’ve introduced:
a morally complex rival
a traumatic backstory
a political subplot
and a map
The map was unnecessary. You made it anyway.
Lie #4: I won’t get emotionally attached
You absolutely will.
You will:
defend fictional people in arguments
feel personally rejected by beta feedback
mourn scenes you have to cut
Google your own book title even though it does not exist yet
This is normal behaviour.
Lie #5: I know how this ends
You don’t.
You think you do.
You have an ending in mind.
Halfway through writing, your characters unionize and refuse to cooperate.
Now the ending involves fire. Or betrayal. Or both.
Lie #6: I won’t compare this one to other books
You will.
You will read something brilliant and briefly consider quitting.
You will read something mediocre and think, I can absolutely do better than this.
Both reactions will occur within the same week.
And yet.
Despite the lies.
Despite the chaos.
You start again.
Because beneath the delusion is something stubborn and hopeful.
The belief that this could be the one.
The book that works.
The story that lands.
The version of you that finally pulls it off.
That “lie” is the only one we need.


I loved this so true on many aspects thank you
I had a lot of fun reading you. The bitter sweet truth between your line got me. And I confess I’m a surprised to find myself in the really disciplined side of the scale