Of Course You Don't
The Liberating Truth About Creative Uncertainty and Why the Best Journeys Can’t Be Planned
Jeremy was talking to his friend Amy, who had written several novels. Jeremy was lamenting that he didn’t know how to write a novel, not having written one yet. He repeated this complaint several times.
“I don’t know how to write a novel,” he said.
“Of course, you don’t,” Amy replied. “How could you?”
“Then we’re agreed?” Jeremy continued gleefully. “I don’t know how to write a novel.”
“Yes, we’re agreed! You don’t know how to write a novel.”
“I thought you were encouraging me?”
“I am!” Amy said. “Knowing that you don’t know how to write a novel is wonderful news! Imagine if you thought that you did know how to write a novel while at the same time knowing for sure that you didn’t? Wouldn’t that be much worse?”
“I don’t follow.”
“It’s great to know that you can’t possibly be prepared for what’s coming. Oh, you can be generally prepared, in the sense of having sharpened pencils and a general idea of what writing is all about. But as to really knowing—of course you can’t. Which is as it should be!”
“I don’t follow.”
“Okay,” Amy continued, growing frustrated. “Maybe you want to build the Empire State Building. Maybe you start by getting a degree in engineering or architecture. Or, say, you want to know what to expect on the bullet train from Tokyo to Osaka. So, you watch some travel videos on Zoom. That is, there would be tons of reasonable things to do before starting to build the Empire State Building or boarding that bullet train. But there’s nothing like that for writing a novel. A degree in creative writing won’t matter. Listening to lectures won’t matter. You still won’t know how to write a novel. Isn’t that exhilarating?”
“I still don’t follow.”
Amy shook her head. “Some things you can prepare for. Others you can’t, really. Imagine preparing to fall in love. How would you do that? Or preparing to sail across the Atlantic in a small boat. You think that stowing away cans of sardines would do the trick? You can’t prepare to fall in love or sail across the Atlantic. And … aren’t the ones you can’t prepare for the most exciting?”
Jeremy thought about that. “I think you’re telling me that I don’t know how to write a novel.”
“Gosh! Are you not listening at all?”
“I’m listening very carefully. Because I really do want to know how to write a novel, and you’ve written several, and you’re bound to have some good advice.”
Amy threw up her hands. “All right! Of course! Here’s my advice. Read a ton of novels. Take a dialogue class, a setting class, a Hero’s Journey class, a ‘create great characters’ class, and a ‘never miss a plot beat’ class. That’ll do it.”
“There!” Jeremy exclaimed. “That’s the ticket! Thank you! I knew I could count on you! Thank you, Amy. I believe that I now see a clear path to writing a novel.”




