Does This Really Matter?

Three lessons from novel-writing . . . and an announcement!

I'll keep this post short, because I'm so excited about my announcement at the end of it!

My writing journey has always felt intertwined with my life journey, teaching me so much about myself, my hopes, and the role I want to play in the world. As you might expect, writing an entire novel amplified those lessons:

Photo credit: unseen studios on Unsplash

My effort matters. As I spent weeks, months, and eventually, years trying to bring 108 to life, as I exchanged fun and leisure for long and lonely hours at a desk, there were many times I wanted to lock the manuscript in a drawer and walk away forever. After all, I didn't have to write a novel. And if I did indeed walk away, nothing in my life would change. So, a whisper of resistance dogged my steps: why bother?

Pushing through that resistance (with the help of Steven Pressfield's The War of Art) has helped me cultivate the qualities I strive for—persistence, tenacity, endurance. It has helped me comprehend how much the endeavor to pen the best possible word, paragraph, and theme brings me the understanding and meaning I crave in life.

My voice matters. Like many of you, I have an astonishingly severe internal critic. For every sentence I send into the world, that critic sends back a corresponding sentence to disempower and unnerve me: you're not good enough, no one wants to hear what you're saying, no one wants to hear you.

In the face of such harsh and oppressive judgment, each word I wrote felt like an act of defiance and a reclamation of my agency, self-worth, and self-love. Each one reinforced my belief that my thoughts and my way of seeing deserved to be in the world for consideration and discussion.

The outcome doesn't matter. Prolific novelist Ann Patchett compares writing down one's idea for a book to running over a butterfly. With an SUV.

The writing, she asserts, simply can't match the glorious theoretical picture in an author's head.

Photo credit: Anne Lambeck on Unsplash

I know my book is imperfect. While I was so excited to write a thriller containing sci-fi, mythology, mysticism, and magical realism, I do have to accept that it won't be everyone's cup of tea. Still, I've come to the realization that it's okay to release this butterfly into the world, with all its imperfections, and to let it have its own journey, to make its own path.

Speaking of which . . . (yay, yay, yay!):

It's Happening! Pre-orders are Live!

The pre-order links for 108: an Eco-Thriller are now active! On the long and arduous writing and publishing road, it feels simply wonderful to reach this milestone.

As you may know, early purchases make an enormous difference to an author, as they drive both publicity and sales. If you wish to pre-order, you can find links to various purchasing platforms here.

Thank you so much, my friends, for your encouragement and support!

Here's the Story:

While working the night shift at a San Francisco news agency, Bayla Jeevan has a shocking out-of-body experience. Her consciousness is transported deep into an Indian forest, where she witnesses a noxious liquid spreading through the soil. At the same time, she receives a message from her father, presumed dead for fifteen years, warning her of imminent danger. Coincidence? Unlikely.

Halfway around the world, agrochemical corporation ZedChem—led by billionaire Krakun Zed—tests its latest innovation, a product heralded as the solution to topsoil erosion. But the data reveals something else entirely.

As Bayla sets out looking for answers, she learns more about her past—and her family’s connection to a secret organization with ancient roots, and to Zed himself. Will Bayla be able to stop the corporation from devastating the planet before global agriculture and human existence are ruined forever?

In this action-packed eco-thriller, the bonds of family—and the power to save Earth—are put to the test.

If you would like to receive updates on 108-related news and events, please sign up here. I appreciate your interest!

With gratitude,

Dheepa