How it goes:

• You think you can write a book. ‘Everyone has a book in them’, don’t they? You toy with the idea. You start. You stop. You think again. Maybe you start.
• You plan it, idly. One rainy day you write a beginning. It’s rubbish. You bin [delete] it.
• Another idle afternoon you begin again. Maybe you write 500 words!
• You continue. Maybe you have a chapter.
• You’ve got going. You become absorbed. You write. And write. And write.
• You stop. Months pass. Life intervenes. The boiling has slowed to a simmer and become still. The words lie gathering [virtual] dust in a file somewhere on the PC.
• Months later, in between scribbling flash fiction, blogging or writing Tripadvisor reviews you come across the dusty file. You read it.
• ‘Hm’, you think. It’s not that bad! You apply yourself. You have another couple of chapters. Hooray!
•  Life intervenes once more. The file languishes unloved in the depths of ‘documents’. Months pass.
• One day you mention it to someone. They express an interest, thus re-kindling your own enthusiasm for the project. You get going once more. Hooray!
• At long last you complete the first, raw, ragged draft of a novel. You feel accomplished/uncertain/satisfied/unworthy/confused/conflicted.
• The someone wants to read it. Hooray/ Horrors!
• The someone likes it!
• You know you need feedback. Another someone suggests you try a shared edit. You try this. The someone likes it. Hooray! But they want you to rewrite the plot. Bleurgh!
• You edit. And edit.
•  Enough editing. You consult the Bible [aka the Writers and Artists Yearbook] and find a meagre handful of possibly sympathetic publishers/literary agents.
• You must write a synopsis. This is the writer’s bete noir. You think about it. You lie awake thinking about it. Maybe you didn’t want to be published anyway?
• One rainy day you apply yourself to synopsis writing. You consult online advice. Horrors! You know it’s crucial. Maybe you don’t want to be published?
• It is still raining. You make a start. It’s terrible. You get a cup of tea. You start again.
• It’s hopeless.
• You read it aloud to your writing group. It sounds rubbish.
• You return to the task. You edit. It’s still awful.
• You rest the hopeless synopsis and attempt a cover letter. You write a blurb. You read it. It doesn’t sound like your novel at all. Perhaps getting published is not all it’s cracked up to be; Waterstones’ window can probably survive without your best seller…
• In the night you make promises to yourself: I will submit the work to a publisher before I make my next trip away. I will complete the synopsis tomorrow. I will get up now and write the cover letter. You fall asleep.