Three Words Are Enough to Begin a Book
When I asked you to write three words, something interesting happened.
Some of you chose emotions.
Some chose mottos.
Some chose words that felt like fragments, sparks, or half-formed thoughts.
And here’s the thing:
Every single response was a success.
Why?
What did you prove? A lot!
Because those three words quietly proved three things:
You can write. Period. No excuses left standing.
You can write when given a prompt. That’s what writing is.
You have something on your mind. Otherwise, nothing would have come.
You didn’t come up blank.
That matters more than you may realize.
Why Those Three Words?
At one point, linguists estimated there were more than 650,000 words in the English language.
And yet—you chose those three.
Not random ones.
Not neutral ones.
Yours.
Which raises an important question:
Why did you choose those words?
Something about them resonated.
They reflect a feeling you’re carrying.
A tension.
A desire.
A question.
A worry.
A hope.
In other words:
they’re already doing the work of a story.
You don’t need a plot yet.
You don’t need a title.
You don’t need a contract or a deadline.
You already have material.
What Happens Next?
This is where people often freeze—because they think writing means explaining.
It doesn’t.
Writing means showing.
So here’s your next step:
If your three words are emotions…
Create scenes that embody them.
Not definitions.
Not journal entries.
Scenes.
Ask yourself:
When was the last time I felt this?
Where was I?
Who else was there?
What did my body do?
What small, ordinary action reveals that feeling?
For example:
Not lonely — but standing in a grocery store aisle, reading labels you don’t need.
Not hopeful — but checking your phone one more time, even though you said you wouldn’t.
Not angry — but washing a mug too hard until it chips.
That’s how you build a story.
If your three words are mottos or beliefs…
Put them under pressure.
Stories are born when beliefs are tested.
Ask:
When did this belief save me?
When did it fail me?
What did it cost me to hold onto it?
What would happen if I let it go—even briefly?
Beliefs don’t stay interesting unless something pushes back.
That pushback?
That’s plot.
You’re Not “Behind.” You’re at the Beginning.
Many people think they can’t write because they’re waiting for:
confidence
clarity
time
permission
But writing doesn’t start with certainty.
It starts with attention.
You paid attention to what surfaced when I asked for three words.
That’s the muscle.
That’s the work.
That’s how books begin—quietly, imperfectly, and honestly.
Writing is the act of nailing down Jell-o. To the wall. Choosing words. Turning the invisible and indistinct into something solid.
Try This (Five Minutes, No Pressure)
Take one of your three words.
Write a single scene where:
no one names the emotion
no one explains the meaning
something small happens
Five minutes.
No editing.
No rereading.
Just movement.
And yes, feel free to share them with me in the chat section! I’m curious to see what you get!
You’re not trying to write a book yet.
You’re proving—again—that you can write the next sentence.
And that’s how every book ever written actually began.
If you’d like, next we can:
turn three words into a chapter arc
explore how this becomes memoir vs. novel
or build a gentle, repeatable writing habit from this exact exercise
But for now?
You’ve already started.
Lots of love (from another person on the same journey!)—Joanna


Sheila, my wise friend! You are so right/write. But I think a lot of people bail on the process because they don't believe in themselves. And because they get stuck and feel overwhelmed. Do you agree?
Terri--you have my interest! "use it"? What is she planning? Why isn't she playing with the other kids? Missing pieces? Hmmm. A fine start. Now...can you create a character sketch of who she is?