I actually did it!

Every time I open the internet, someone is claiming they wrote a debut novel in thirty days by waking up at 5 AM and drinking bone broth and matcha latte

I’m not one of those people.

Last night, after almost exactly five months, I finally finished writing Chapter One of my book.

Now I know five months for a single chapter is an aggressively slow pace. At this rate, the manuscript will be ready for publication sometime in 2045.

But I don't have an aesthetic writing retreat or a ten-step creative routine. I am just a deeply tired woman trying to string three coherent sentences together between the school run, surviving the housing market, and the big Tesco.

There is no inspirational takeaway here. I am not going to pivot into a lesson about trusting the process or romanticising the struggle. I am just putting this on the internet for anyone else who feels like they are failing because they are moving slowly.

And even knowing how ridiculously long it took, the thrill of typing those last few words was unreal. I don't care that it was slow. I am just sitting here completely buzzing. I actually did it.

With love,

Salwa