It’s Never Too Late to Begin

Pull up a sandbag and I’ll tell you a story.

Not a tall one—and certainly not a war story—but an honest attempt to reflect on writing a book and bringing it into the world, without pretending I knew what I was doing at the time.

This is the beginning of the “small resource—part blog, part meeting place” I mentioned elsewhere. A place to share what I’ve learned, what I’m still learning, and perhaps to encourage anyone who has ever thought about starting something… but didn’t.

If I had to describe how I came to writing—late in life and without any formal tuition—the truth is I didn’t really decide at all. Consideration suggests a plan. There wasn’t one.

Before retiring, I spent years writing reports—carefully choosing words, aiming for accuracy. What surprised me was the quiet satisfaction when something landed exactly as intended. That, I think, was the seed.

I’m not suggesting for a moment that avoiding the study of creative writing is a wise course. Quite the opposite. It’s a craft I’ve only just begun to understand, and one I intend to keep working at. But at the time, I had a slightly different concern—that if I studied too early, I might become more focused on getting it right than actually getting it written. A flimsy defence perhaps, but at that stage publication never even crossed my mind.

I started with a simple experiment. No plan, no plot, no characters—just an attempt to describe a place. A setting that seemed to come from nowhere, though in hindsight there must have been some notion of isolation buried somewhere in the background. That small piece was the beginning of everything that followed.

Why did I wait until my seventies to try? It’s a fair question, and one I’ve asked myself more than once. The honest answer is that it never occurred to me. Life was busy—family, work—and perhaps, quietly, I didn’t believe I had the capacity.

There was the usual background noise—school reports and quiet assumptions. One line has stayed with me over the years: that I had set myself a ridiculously low standard and failed to maintain it. Perhaps not quite as brutal as that, but certainly only ever sneaking up to average. I don’t claim it did any damage—only that it reinforced what I already suspected about myself. I imagine many people carry something similar. If there’s any purpose to this space, it’s to challenge that idea—because it really is never too late to begin.

Let’s take a step forward. You’ve finished your manuscript. What comes next is revision—editing, refining, reshaping. Some would argue it’s more important than the writing itself. It’s certainly where the raw material becomes something a reader can truly engage with. I’ll return to that in more detail later.

Then comes the question: publish or not? Many books—mine included—are written in solitude and never leave it. For some, completion is enough. For others, there’s a pull to go further.

Traditional publishing is one route, but it’s a narrow gate. Self-publishing, particularly in the digital space, offers a different path. It requires effort, patience, and a degree of courage—but it also removes the barrier of waiting for someone else to say yes.

It’s worth noting that some well-known books began life this way before finding a wider audience—The Martian by Andy Weir and Fifty Shades of Grey by E. L. James among them. Those cases are exceptional rather than typical, but they do at least show what is possible. The outcome, however, is not really the point—the opportunity to try is.

There are a few threads I intend to pick up in the pieces that follow. One is the question of whether studying creative writing too early can become a barrier to simply beginning. Another is the far less structured reality of how I actually started—with no plan, no roadmap, and very little idea of where it might lead.

I’ll also touch on what it means to begin something new later in life, the question of whether to publish at all, and the practical route of digital self-publication. Along the way, I’ll share a few thoughts on tools I found unexpectedly useful—including Artificial Intelligence, which, used properly, helps you think rather than replaces the thinking.

If any of that resonates, you’re very welcome to pull up a sandbag again.

In the end, this is simply a starting point.

For anyone reading this and wondering whether to begin—whatever “begin” means for you—I can only offer one thought:

It’s never too late.