10 Things That Surprised Me Most About Writing

When I started writing Storm Grazer Rising, I thought I was signing up to tell a story I’d been carrying around in my head for a long time. I didn’t realize how much the process itself would surprise me—or how deeply it would change the way I think about writing.

Here are ten things that caught me completely off guard along the way.

1. How much self-doubt showed up

I expected moments of uncertainty. I didn’t expect how constant self-doubt could be. Doubting scenes, doubting chapters, doubting whether I was doing the story justice—sometimes doubting whether I should even be writing it at all. What surprised me most was learning that doubt didn’t mean something was wrong. It just meant I cared.

2. How much editing it took to finish the book

I knew editing was part of the process. I didn’t realize how much of the writing is editing. Drafting is only the beginning. The real work happened in revision—cutting, reshaping, tightening, clarifying, and sometimes rebuilding entire scenes so they finally said what I meant them to say.

3. How easy the writing flows sometimes

There were days when the words just poured out. Scenes unfolded naturally. Dialogue snapped into place. It felt almost effortless, like I was transcribing something that already existed. Those days happened surprisingly often and they kept me going.

4. How messy sentences can be before they’re fixed

This one surprised me more than writer’s block ever did. Sometimes the words came fast—but wrong. Entire paragraphs would spill out as a tangled, garbled mess that barely resembled English. That chaos didn’t mean the idea was bad; it just meant it needed work. Which, again, brought me right back to editing.

5. How much I loved the sloppy first draft

I didn’t expect to love my first draft. But I did. It was rough, uneven, and unpolished, but it existed. That draft proved the story was real. It had momentum. It had heart. It was the version where everything was allowed to be imperfect.

6. How much more I loved the revised version

And then came revision. The finished, revised version of the book feels beautiful to me in a way I didn’t anticipate. The story is clearer. The characters are sharper. The world feels more solid. Seeing the book evolve from something rough into something refined was deeply satisfying.

7. That I cried while writing a scene

There was one scene in particular that hit me hard while I was writing it. I didn’t expect that kind of emotional reaction from my own work, but it happened. That moment taught me something important: if a scene moves the writer, there’s a chance it might move the reader too.

8. How much learning from other writers helped

I watched a lot of writing videos on YouTube for a good year and a half. Many of them I listened to while out on my morning jog. Others I listened to when I had a spare moment in the car. Hearing other authors talk honestly about craft, process, mistakes, and persistence helped more than I can easily explain. It made writing feel less lonely and far more achievable.

9. How much I love writing—and how unexpected that was

This one still surprises me the most.

When I was younger, particularly as a student in school, I didn’t enjoy writing at all. Ask my mom. Getting me to write in school was like pulling teeth. The only exceptions were two papers I actually cared about: one on pirates and one on flies. Go figure. Everything else felt like a chore.

I didn’t set out to fall in love with writing. I just wanted to tell this story—the idea that eventually became Storm Grazer Rising. Somewhere along the way, the act of writing itself became something I’m genuinely obsessed with. I didn’t expect to start a series. I didn’t expect to have ideas for stories outside the fantasy genre, stories that I hope to get to once I finish this series. I certainly didn’t expect writing to become something I couldn’t imagine not doing.

10. How many ways there are to say the same thing

One day, while polishing a single scene, it hit me just how many different ways the same moment could be described, and how much that choice changes the reader’s experience. The words you choose shape tone, pacing, emotion, and meaning. Crafting language isn’t just about clarity; it’s about intention.

Writing this book taught me far more than I expected—not just about storytelling, but about patience, persistence, and creativity itself. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that writing isn’t a straight line from idea to finished book. It’s a process of discovery—and for me, it’s been worth every step.