a promise to myself.

The power of 300 words a day.

For the entire month of June, I promised myself to write 300 words a day.

Not for Substack, not in my notebook, not for emails.

But 300 words a day, specifically added to Draft Zero of my memoir-in-progress.

Back in August 2024, I joined the Quill & Cup writing community as a way to make writing an integral part of my life. Through Quill & Cup, I have access to the support of other writers and regular writing times throughout the week where we show up and check in with each other.

Since August, I’d join these writing sessions at least once a week, sometimes two, three, or four, with the intent of starting to write my book.

But on each session, I’d find myself getting distracted… by Substack, by emails, by paying bills, by researching, by work, by Instagram, by writing random thoughts that never strung together properly.

I love the community, and I love that writing became a regular habit, but I was tired of my shit. I was tired of avoiding actually starting to write a book.

It’s felt like a daunting task.

I’ve written countless personal essays and creative nonfiction narratives. I’ve studied the art and craft of memoir for over ten years now. Why couldn’t I just do it?

I think it’s because I’ve never done it before.

I kept trying to figure out the perfect structure. I kept trying to figure out the perfect place to start, or what the timeline would be, or where the story would end. I kept trying to figure out an arc that wasn’t revealing itself.

I kept meandering, putting it off, stopping and starting, until I heard somewhere that if you wrote 250 words a day, you’d have a draft finished in a year. (Most books are about 70,000-100,00 words.)

And I thought… what?

I opened by calculator. 250 x 365 = 91,250.

Holy shit, was quickly followed by, Duh.

How do you climb a mountain?

Step by step.

How do you finish a puzzle?

Piece by piece.

How do you write a book?

Day by day.

For the first time, it occurred to me that I’d been going about this all wrong. It wasn’t about figuring it out before I started, it was about figuring it out as I went. I didn’t need a first draft, I just needed a Draft Zero—a draft that gets words out of you so that you can add shape and texture and craft when it’s done.

The month of June was a spacious one. I didn’t have trips planned, I didn’t have to travel for work, I didn’t have many things to do.

It was the perfect time to see if I could commit to this.

And I did it.

I wrote 300 words in the mountains with no service, on an offlined document. I wrote 300 words when I woke up in the morning before going to yoga. I wrote 300 words after a run before starting work. I wrote 300 words after closing my work laptop for the day, before starting dinner. I wrote 300 words right before going to bed, curled on the couch next to Adam.

Most days I wrote more than 300. Only one day did I write less.

I wrote 11,622 words in June.

keeping track in my daily planner.

It’s a messy and chaotic draft, but there’s a pulse and heartbeat developing in it. I know it’s going somewhere. I know it has a purpose.

Throughout my life, I’ve consistently found myself overwhelmed by the endless possibilities. Every choice, every decision could lead to my life looking a completely different way.

But there was only ever one thing that I was certain I wanted, even when I was little—to write a book.

I never knew exactly what it would be about, but once I discovered my love for memoir and creative nonfiction, I knew I eventually wanted to write about my lifelong struggle with chronic eczema, asthma, and allergies. Once I went through Topical Steroid Withdrawal in 2021, my story started to take shape. I knew there was something important in my story to share with others—to make others feel—but…

…if there’s one thing that I know is true, it’s that no one else cares whether I achieve this or not. No one else has any stake in my ability to write a book. I have to be the one holding myself accountable and showing up for my story.

If I don’t, no one else will.

And I finally feel like the person that can make it happen. I’m proud of that and excited to see where this journey takes me.

What’s something that’s on your heart? If you need a little nudge of accountability, let me be your person! Our creativity is begging to be realized and released. 🫶

xx,

Court