How Asking These Four Unexpected Questions Transformed My Dead-End Novel into a Masterpiece

How Asking These Four Unexpected Questions Transformed My Dead-End Novel into a Masterpiece

How to find your voice when doubt and rejection take over.

Image from Freepik by @jannoon028

​What if failure isn’t just a redirection? What if it forces you to ask yourself a deeper question: Why am I doing this at all?

Am I creating to free my mind and soul, or am I chasing praise and validation?

These questions have been lingering in my mind for weeks, as I face my first encounter with the so-feared writer’s block.

When I started drafting a novel in 2023, I was certain about one thing: nobody would ever read it, so it didn’t matter if it wasn’t good. I was doing it for myself, to put on paper the stories I had been imagining, some intertwined with my own life experiences.

With that freedom, writing felt effortless. Words flowed from my fingers, scenes floated through my mind, and the story slowly revealed itself. I wasn’t worried about perfection, readers, or deadlines. I simply allowed the draft to exist as it was, flawed and imperfect, for two whole years.

Then, in 2025, I revisited it. This time, I wanted to see it through to the end. I wondered what I really wanted to say, what message I hoped to leave with readers. So I started rewriting.

The first three chapters flowed easily, but then I began sending excerpts to contests, grants, and residencies. Each rejection was accompanied by a “thank you for your submission, but…” or simply by a haunting silence.

These moments started to pile up, and at some point, I just couldn’t write anymore. I’ll open the draft only to stare at the blinking cursor for an hour before slamming the laptop shut in frustration. I wasn’t feeling it; the joy was gone, the words were lost.

I thought about giving up. Maybe my writing is worthless. Perhaps this story has already been told. There are so many writers creating something better, so what’s the point of trying?

After a few frustrating weeks of not being able to open the draft without feeling terrified at the white page, I understood. I was blocked because I was trying to write to impress an imaginary agent, publisher, and readers.

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