On beginnings and endings

Where do you start?

I’ve done enough transformational and self-development work to know that beginnings—the roots of things—aren’t always what we think they are. 

Is it mom, dad? Ourselves? God?

Was it when we were 3, 5, 7? Or did it happen in the womb? What about generational trauma?

Fortunately, the beginnings of books are easier to solve, and remedy.

In medias res is the term used when a narrative work begins in the middle of things—when it opens in the middle of the plot.

And that’s certainly a solid place to start your book.

In Little Fires Everywhere, it’s a house fire. 

In Fight Club, the protagonist is being held hostage with a gun in his mouth atop a building rigged with explosives. How’s that for attention grabbing?

But it’s not always the loudest beginnings that make the most impact. I worked with a writer once who was telling his own story—his life story—and he couldn’t figure out where to start the book. We workshopped some scenes and one memory he shared was so quiet, you could hear a pin drop.

“That’s the beginning of your book,” I told him. 

I can’t tell you what the beginning of your book is from here, but I can tell you that when you find it, you’ll know it. Until then, keep seeking. Keep writing. The answer is there, waiting for you to catch up.