How Watching a Whale Can Help You Write a Book
I am sitting on a boat off the coast of Cabo, scanning the deep blue water of the Pacific for any hint of an enormous humpback whale beneath the surface. I concentrate on the water, looking for the signs our biologist guide told us might give the majestic creature away: a flat spot smooth as glass, a water spout, a ripple that looks like a small wave and then emerges as part of the animal’s body sneaking just above the surface.
A large, smooth spot spreads across the surface, and our guide shouts the location against an imaginary clock over the boat. “Look at the water. One o’clock.” A dark, lumpy shape forms just above the surface. It disappears before I can hit record. Then it reappears, larger and most definitely not a wave, surfacing for a few seconds before dropping into the depths again.
Good enough
I smile. I’ve seen a whale. The excursion has been lovely, a magnificent day on the Pacific with friends. We’ve seen the famous Arch of Cabo San Lucas. And now I’ve seen a whale. What more could I want?
But things get better
As our captain drives toward the spot, the whale breaches again, its body stretching out of the water and toward the sky. Then it dives, and now, instead of being satisfied, I crave more. I watch with greater intensity. The whale does not disappoint. Its tail leads the way this time, lifting into an arcing waterfall before slapping back down on the surface. Twice. Three times. Four. “It was on its back, belly up, slapping the water to communicate with other whales,” our guide says. Two humpbacks swim beneath us; one passes under the boat, and an enormous fin breaks the surface, towering above us, barnacles lining the ridge.
An idea emerges
“Sometimes they’re trying to slap the barnacles off their fins, and other times they’re trying to impress a female,” our guide explains. “Mission accomplished,” I answer. “This female is impressed.”
I’m sharing this story because the experience is like the one we have as writers when an idea for a book first comes to us. Something clicks, and we begin to think about writing a book. We have a small spark, and we search our minds for more, looking for places where the idea might spread and connect to other thoughts. We look for hints that it might work, maybe something obvious, maybe something subtle. If we keep returning to it, the idea starts to take form. We try to write it down and it seems lumpy, disorganized, hard to hold together. But if we’re persistent, it takes shape, grows bigger, and stays on the surface of our consciousness longer.
When your book idea won’t leave you alone
At this point we crave more time to think about it. Before we know it, the idea won’t leave us alone. It’s slapping its tail on the surface of our consciousness, claiming its voice and demanding to be heard. Does this sound like you? Do you have a story idea that has surfaced and resurfaced over the years? What’s stopping you from exploring it? What would happen if you tried to write it? And how will you feel if you don’t?
If you have an idea that won’t leave you alone, let’s talk. I want to help you bring it to the surface and find your way toward releasing it into the world. Email me and we’ll set up a call: I’ll send you a questionnaire that helps you get clarity just by filling it out, then we’ll meet over Zoom to explore your idea and figure out the best next step for you. You’ll be much closer to holding a finished manuscript and claiming the title of author.
I believe in the power of your story.