From Nothing to Something- my timeline

Whatever you think is the hardest part is, if you don't start, it's definitely not going to be finished. Starting this whole process was difficult, the easy part is finding reasons to quit or barriers to progress. 

The best advice I could give you is: don't stop, I don't even think I'd worry if what you're writing is good, or you're wasting your time; not writing isn't going to make you a better writer. Of course, if you stop to reflect and plot, then that's progress too, you're story is moving forward, regardless of whether the word count is increasing, you're laying foundations for progress, you make sure you don't use it as a permanent excuse or barrier.

It's so easy to quit, I'd most definitely recommend just powering through, especially your first short, novella, novel, script etc. Even if the quality lags you can look in the mirror with pride at achieving something not many do. Even it sucks, I guarantee the experience will have been worthwhile. I know it was for me. 

November 2019: 

Two months from the birth of my first child, I decided I was going to write a story. I'm not 100% sure if I'd decided it was going to be a novella, and for the life of me, at this moment, I can't remember how many words it turned out to be, but it could be anywhere between 25000 and 50000 words. I just know that, after a month of writing between 500 and 1000 words during sessions, I hit a wall, or I quit, or some TV show came out, whatever the reason, I'd stopped and I literally thought I was done. At this point, my genuine belief was that I'd just quit completely. It was more progress than I ever thought I'd make, on something I'd wanted to do for many years but thought I'd never try to genuinely accomplish, and I took a small amount of pride in at least trying (depending on the level of editing required, I plan to release this summer or late 2021). 

End of January 2020: 

The first child arrives. Amazing. Crazy. It's everything you'd expect and hear from people, and those people that talk about how magical it is, are actually correct. Not sure where my head is at, in terms of writing, but I think it's still niggling in there, poking, and reminding me that I quit. It's taken me a long time to be stubborn enough to see things through.

Shortly after the arrival of said specimen 2020:

I finish it. Can't remember why but I sit down and hammer it out. Not sure where the determination came from, but a couple of years earlier I started running; after years of playing football and going to the gym exclusively, I'd always avoided running despite being very fit at times, I didn't have the mental capacity to keep me moving for prolonged periods of time. After reviewing my lifestyle in summer 2018, I decided to sign up for a half-marathon with around 6 weeks to train for it (having never run more than 7-8k before and being terrified of 10k). After a week or two, I cracked 10k. I started cranking out ever-increasing distances until I managed 21k two weeks before the race. I think this helped me gain a psychological edge in overcoming barriers and transferred directly to my reading.

Spring 2020:

Began to work on a series of short horror stories for an anthology (unpublished but planned for Oct 2021). 

End of Summer 2020:

By the end of summer, after several breaks, four or five varying tales of horror arrive. But then nothing. I had planned to try and release them for Halloween, but I can't find the desire or will or confidence to edit and publish (you probably know the feeling, the inadequacy, the fear). It doesn't happen and I again think it's over.

October 2020:

I don't why, but I start writing. I picture a scene and a story begins to unfold slowly. 500 words a day becomes a thousand. Every break in work is another chance to churn out another few hundred words. I'm partially avoiding the editing, but I'm gripped (always seize this, if it happens, leave everything non-essential to the side and pour it out. Motivation can be like a wave and you should ride it.) After a month I have around 40-50000 words, the productivity is beyond anything that I've accomplished so far, and then it's time to move house. 

November 2020:

Pack house etc then mid-November/end of November my wife has two weeks of return to work training and I take two weeks parental leave to care for the rascal. All work stops. I have three weeks of Christmas holidays, that I tell myself will be where I finish the book. Nothing happens. 

January 2021: 

The last two days of my holiday I start writing again, no idea how it happened, but yet again, another insane inopportune time to start. Yet somehow I find new levels of motivation and set myself insane goals like 5000 word writing days, that sometimes I even achieve (I'm not 100% convinced I did this), or at least get close to (more likely than my previous claim). After four weeks I've churned out over 70000 words. It's a strange feeling finishing something like that, but the overwhelming and overriding thought is that you haven't really finished. That's where the work comes in, the really painful stuff. 

I think that's where I'll finish up for today. Pains me even thinking about editing.