Not a Book? Says Who?
No pages. No print. No problem.
What is a book?
Is it something with a title and a barcode?
Does it need to be printed?
Sold a few times?
Endorsed by strangers?
Available in hardcover and Kindle and audio?
What if it’s just a file sitting in your drafts? A private document you’ve written over for years. A voice note. A scattered pile of sentences. Is that still a book?
Or do you wait until it fits the frame you were taught?
Even the unconventional frame is still a frame. Self-published. Digital-only. Short-form. It tries to be different but still needs a label to feel real.
You don’t.
You don’t need chapters. You don’t need structure. You don’t need to explain why your book doesn’t look like a book. Some of the most complete books are never published. Some are never read. Some never even get titles.
But they were books the moment something true began to take shape. The moment something moved through you, uninvited, and asked to be written.
A book isn’t something you finish. It’s something that exists. Not because of the format. Not because of the audience. Because it lived.
Even when the pages are blank. Especially then.
Let it be a book. You don’t need permission.
