This post will outline how writing a few journal entries about pregnancy was the catalyst for my first book.

On Saturday, 16 March 2019, I learnt that I was to become a parent for the first time. Readers of Dear Dory will know that my partner and I were experiencing issues on the baby-making front and that doctors had told us that our chances of conceiving naturally were slim to non-existent.

So, when I read the test results, I was not prepared for my emotional response. Learning I was going to be a dad for the first time was like an out-of-body experience for me that day.

In an effort to calm down and rationalise my new situation, I sought refuge in my journal.

I’ve practised journaling for many years. Sometimes, I use it as nothing more than a glorified to-do list; at other times, I use it to work through problems, track habits, plan the day/month/year or write down ideas.

I’m a massive advocate of Ryder Carroll’s bullet journal method.

The beginning of something ...

I sat down a few hours after I found out my partner was pregnant and started writing. If a future version of myself had arrived and said that I had just begun writing a book, I would have laughed him back to the time zone whence he came – it just didn’t enter my thoughts.

Besides, the notes were messy and the sentences didn’t meld together in any way that would meet the standards of book-quality prose. It was all very chaotic.

But what I did learn that day is that I had a lot to put down on paper. So, the next day, I took out my journal and started writing again until my right hand resembled a lobster claw – I had written so much that it hurt. Eager to carry on, I opened up my laptop and kept writing. And I wrote every day after that.

At the end of the first week, I decided to continue this daily practice right up until my partner gave birth. I figured that it would be a fun experience and a challenge for me, and it would also be a great keepsake for us as a family.

A few days later, I looked at my word count and realised I had 5,000 words. I was averaging around 500 words a day.

My partner and I calculated that she was due to give birth on 14 November (matching the midwife’s calculation as well). That meant if I wrote roughly 500 words every day from 16 March until 14 November (244 days in total), I would have approximately 122,000.

Despite being an avid reader, I had no idea how many words go into a book. I didn’t know if 122,000 was a lot. I figured it had to be fairly substantial, though. I googled the word count of the Harry Potter series and I learnt that the first three books all came in under 122,000.

Bingo – Dear Dory was now a book project.

But it was still one I envisioned as a personal endeavour; publishing hadn’t yet entered my mind.

So I kept writing. And I discovered that the pregnancy journey was as fascinating as it was bonkers. What sort of person burst into tears just because they forgot to make themselves a cup of tea? A pregnant woman – or, more accurately, my partner when she was pregnant.

Then there was the road rage, the pregnancy-development trackers, the scares and those beautiful moments in between, like hearing the heartbeat for the first time or organising the baby’s wardrobe.

What I was witnessing was mind-boggling, interesting, funny, scary and thought-provoking. There was so much to it, and it varied every day.

And I began to wonder … Would anyone else appreciate this type of book, in the format it’s written in: daily journal entries from a soon-to-be first-time father to his unborn child? There might be a gazillion pregnancy-themed books on the market, but I noticed that dads were under-represented.

Maybe this could work, I thought.

But before I could find out, a question struck me. Was I capable of writing a book of good enough quality to meet publishing standards? Further questions followed. What does the publishing route look like? Do I need an agent? How do I get my work read by an editor? Do I even know how to write?

I wrote down a list of the reasons why publishing was the right decision, assuming I somehow got the book to market and figured out the answers to all my questions.

Here’s a summary of that list:

• Writing a book would improve my writing ability.
• It’s a fun challenge to undertake (full disclaimer – writing is often not fun).
• A commitment to publishing would ensure I made the book as good as my skill set, resources and capability would allow. I wouldn’t cut any corners.
• Publishing a book about pregnancy from a dad’s point of view would make me reflect mindfully on all of the decisions I made during the pregnancy.
• Shallow as it may seem, I thought it would be cool to see a book on my bookshelf that had my name on it – something I could say I had created.
• •  

Finally …

• I’ve always wanted to write stories, so, given the unexpected impetus of Dear Dory, how can I look at myself in the mirror and say no to this opportunity?

Once I finished that list and looked down it, my mind was made up. I knew that I would pour everything I had into this book. And, despite not knowing if I could write, if the book would be any good and if I’d get an agent or a publishing deal, I pushed on ahead and focused on one thing and one thing only – writing.

And that is how Dear Dory came to be.

Note: this page uses affiliate links. I receive a small percentage of any sales that you purchase through some of my links.