I have a book releasing in three days. It’s hard to believe I’m even saying that, that I’ve even finally made it to this point. Most people only see news about a book once it’s ready to be shared and read. They don’t see the time spent living out the stories, wrestling with ideas, shedding more than a few tears over the content. It’s been a journey, to say the least.

I admit it. I’ve bitten off more than I can chew, as the saying goes.

I’m sitting here writing at the eleventh hour when I have multiple deadlines looming over me. I owe another friend some notes for a piece she’s helping me with, and I told her I’d get those to her days ago. Okay, a week ago. It’s still not done, and the list of emails I have yet to respond to grows as quickly as the laundry pile in the corner of my bedroom.

I don’t tell you this because I have some notion that busyness is a badge of honor. I’ve worn myself out far too many times to want to wear that badge anyway. Besides, if you look at my actual calendar, we’re not really that busy. We’re still living a contained life thanks to COVID precautions, and our days mostly consist of LEGOs and riding bikes in the front yard.

But I want the work I do and the way I spend my days to feel productive–and motherhood doesn’t always make that easy. I (kind of) like the feeling of having a deadline looming over me because I know it means something will eventually get done. A box will get checked off. I’ll finally sense accomplishment.

If you’re a writer, maybe you bristle at the thought and feel like the “p-word” is as vulgar as any four-letter-word out there. I’ve felt that way, too. (Just so you know up front, this post won’t include practical advice on how to grow your platform. Kind of the opposite, actually.) The thought of “having to grow my platform” in order to ever write a book is daunting and frustrating. Can’t I just write a book about Jesus and pray someone will buy it?