Even the Ten Commandments had a First Draft
What Moses Can Teach First-Time Indie Authors
When you’re writing your first book, it can feel a lot like Moses when he climbed Mount Sinai.
You stare blankly at the foot of this mountain-sized journey, thinking of what to start with. Suddenly, a thick storm cloud rolls in and circles above you. It lights up the sky with thunderbolts of self-doubt — cracks so sharp, they strike the ground of your confidence and rumbles into your core. How could you even dare think of trying to reach the top? Why try? You’re an amateur, stop pretending to be someone you’re not.
You could go back to the nothingness before all this, whipping back to the days of your previous 9-to-5 enslavement. Should you? No. You said you’d do this and your word means something. The thought of letting people down mixed with the fear of never getting another chance would plague you more than any swarm of frogs, locusts, or lice.
So you begin your ascent, taking it step-by-step, hiking up this steep mountain with nothing more than sandals on your feet and a stick in your guiding hand. You’re not sure what to expect. You don’t know how long it’ll take. You don’t even know what’s at the end. All you know is there’s a burning face of judgment if you slip-up, so don’t look down.
Every corner, every step, you wish that’s the last. The storm continues precipitating your insecurities, drenching you with anxiety, pelting you to stay down. But you have to keep figuring it out and move forward at a blistering tortoise-like pace, trudging through falling rocks and writer’s blocks, continually questioning yourself if its worth all this. Just when your mind is about to betray you, then — only then is when you reach the end. You made it. In what feels like divine intervention, you have a copy of that chiseled masterpiece in your hand.
After crossing the final t and dotting the last i in the ending paragraph of 52 Churches in 52 Weeks, I thought that was it. 26,000 miles traveled, 100,000 words written, and 27 months to write about 52 churches, finally !— the hard part was over. After spending hours caved inside each sentence to make it as perfectly crafted as I could carve it, I had conquered my first manuscript. I couldn’t believe it! From here on out, everything else would be clear sailing to the Promised Land of book publication.
That’s when the clouds cleared.
Instead of flowing income streams of milk and honey, I looked out and saw a sprawling, never-ending dessert that is the publishing world. It was a bit overwhelming. I didn’t know nor could prepare for what lied ahead. After scaling to the top of Mount Sinai, I thought the writing part was it. I had eaten all my trail mix, drank the last drop of water, threw the tent down the hill — only to be faced with this new wild unknown. No road signs. No directions. No answers for the right path to take. There were so many choices. Should I go the traditional publishing route? Should I self-publish? Should I get an agent? What’s a query letter? How do I write a query letter? Why did I just write a query letter only to wait six weeks for that agent to reject me anyway? Where do I go? Who can I trust? The amount of piling questions on just where to start was debilitating. One wrong turn and I could be lost in the wilderness for seemingly 40 years, left to suffocate in the dust of my own failed dreams.
And the worst part? Will people even remember you?
You finally have that manuscript in hand and excitedly shout from the mountaintops, “It’s finished,” hopeful for some semblance of self-validation from those who followed you as part of your tribe.
And that’s what’s even more scary. What happens if you your announcement falls on deaf ears. Other than a select few, you may find many who followed you earlier have already forgotten you in a mass exodus of their own, turning their attention to the latest shiny metal object.
So yeah. That’s where I’m at right now. I’m taking things one step at a time, figuring this out knowing that for every action completed, a brand new challenge will be in the way. But thou shalt get over it. Right now, I’m at that fiery Hulk-induced rage stage of editing, where I’ll need to take hold of that first draft and smash it to the ground. Broken and discarded, I’ll have to scale that Sinai in sandals again, this time for the editing process. At least the idea is set in stone, but how long will it take to complete the final draft? Another question that I’ll figure out when it comes.
If there’s any consolation, even the hand of God was forced to use an editor when the first draft of the Ten Commandments was broken on His tablets.
