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On Monday evening, I finally uploaded the first chapter of my Camino book. By the time I’d published the accompanying newsletter and shared it online, it was already half past ten. I stared at the clock with mixed feelings. Not because the chapter had taken longer than expected, but because I’d broken a promise to myself. For months I’d been trying to stop working at five in the afternoon. That simple habit had transformed my days. I slept better, woke up with more energy, and actually looked forward to sitting down at my desk each morning.
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The irony was that nothing had gone wrong. Quite the opposite. The book had finally found its voice. I had set out to write a guide to the saints along the Camino de Santiago, but somewhere in the first chapter it became something else. Instead of describing churches and biographies, I found myself back on the trail, meeting fellow pilgrims again, hearing the church bells of small Spanish villages, and rediscovering the conversations that had shaped my own pilgrimage. Every chapter opened the door to another memory, and before I knew it, I wanted to keep writing long after dinner.
Only a few weeks ago, I couldn’t persuade myself to work on my novel. Now I had the opposite problem. The words kept coming, and I didn’t want to interrupt them. It’s a much nicer problem to have, but it carries its own danger. I’ve learned often enough that enthusiasm can be just as exhausting as procrastination. Creative work isn’t only about finding momentum. It’s also about protecting it.
So this week I’m trying something that feels almost unnatural. When five o’clock arrives, I’ll turn off the computer, even if the next paragraph is already forming in my head. I’d rather leave something unwritten today than discover, a few weeks from now, that I’ve exhausted the very excitement that made me want to write in the first place. The Camino taught me that long journeys are completed one day at a time. Perhaps writing books works the same way.
🎧 I talk about this and more in this week’s episode of my podcast ‘The Walk’. You can listen via the player at the top of this page.
👉 Read the fist chapters of my book about the Camino here: Saints on the Camino.
By Father Roderick4.6
9797 ratings
On Monday evening, I finally uploaded the first chapter of my Camino book. By the time I’d published the accompanying newsletter and shared it online, it was already half past ten. I stared at the clock with mixed feelings. Not because the chapter had taken longer than expected, but because I’d broken a promise to myself. For months I’d been trying to stop working at five in the afternoon. That simple habit had transformed my days. I slept better, woke up with more energy, and actually looked forward to sitting down at my desk each morning.
This Substack is reader-supported. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.
The irony was that nothing had gone wrong. Quite the opposite. The book had finally found its voice. I had set out to write a guide to the saints along the Camino de Santiago, but somewhere in the first chapter it became something else. Instead of describing churches and biographies, I found myself back on the trail, meeting fellow pilgrims again, hearing the church bells of small Spanish villages, and rediscovering the conversations that had shaped my own pilgrimage. Every chapter opened the door to another memory, and before I knew it, I wanted to keep writing long after dinner.
Only a few weeks ago, I couldn’t persuade myself to work on my novel. Now I had the opposite problem. The words kept coming, and I didn’t want to interrupt them. It’s a much nicer problem to have, but it carries its own danger. I’ve learned often enough that enthusiasm can be just as exhausting as procrastination. Creative work isn’t only about finding momentum. It’s also about protecting it.
So this week I’m trying something that feels almost unnatural. When five o’clock arrives, I’ll turn off the computer, even if the next paragraph is already forming in my head. I’d rather leave something unwritten today than discover, a few weeks from now, that I’ve exhausted the very excitement that made me want to write in the first place. The Camino taught me that long journeys are completed one day at a time. Perhaps writing books works the same way.
🎧 I talk about this and more in this week’s episode of my podcast ‘The Walk’. You can listen via the player at the top of this page.
👉 Read the fist chapters of my book about the Camino here: Saints on the Camino.

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