Emerge, retreat, repeat: What successful books require
Most authors try to write their books while running full speed across the desert floor.
They’re networking, juggling multiple projects, posting progress updates, seeking feedback—always visible, always responsive. Sooner or later, they feel the tension: The deep work never gets done. The manuscript feels scattered. They just can’t access the transformative thinking their story requires.
The Mojave Desert taught me a different approach. Watching tarantulas move between emergence and retreat, I recognized the rhythm a successful book project needs: Protected time for the work that matters most, bracketed by strategic visibility.
The silk-covered entrance to a tarantula burrow signals “Hey, I’m doing important work here.” Your book needs the same boundary.
The cost of always-on visibility
You may already know this feeling:
You sit down to write, and within minutes you’re checking email. Responding to a “quick question.” (Are they ever quick? NO.) Updating your social media. Researching just one more thing. Each interruption feels small, but together they fragment the deep attention your manuscript requires.
Or try this: You’ve protected the time, closed the tabs, silenced the phone—and STILL can’t access the work. Your mind stays surface-level . . . the insights won't come . . . the connections between ideas remain JUST. OUT. OF. REACH.
I hear you, I see you. I never think of this as a discipline problem. It’s a design problem!
Your creative mind knows that the moment you go deep, demands will pull you back up. So it refuses to commit. Harken to the wisdom of tarantulas: Why on earth start molting when you’ll be interrupted mid-transformation?
What the Desert Teaches
The tarantula doesn’t casually wander into its burrow between phone calls. It prepares:
Carefully smoothed walls that create the right conditions for transformation.
Silk covering that clearly signals “unavailable for non-essential interruptions.”
Strategic location that provides safety for deep work and access for necessary emergence.
Then—and only then—does the vulnerable work begin. Molting. Digesting. Growing. The spider can only become what it needs to be in protected space with clear boundaries.
When the transformation is complete, emergence happens with purpose: to hunt, to move forward, to engage with the world above ground.
Notice what the tarantula doesn’t do: It doesn’t apologize for retreating. It doesn’t try to molt while also responding to surface demands. It doesn’t skip the deep work because “there's too much happening” above ground.
The tarantula can only grow by retreating to safety, shedding what no longer fits, and emerging renewed.
Jackrabbits and Tarantulas: Two Modes Your Book Requires
After two decades helping authors navigate book development, I’ve learned that successful projects need both modes:
Emergence (Jackrabbit Mode): Quick, visible, responsive work. Strategy sessions. Feedback integration. Stakeholder updates. This maintains momentum and connection, keeps the project moving through publishing timelines. Whoo! This is FUN.
Retreat (Tarantula Mode): Deep, focused, transformative work. The writing that requires your full attention. The structural thinking that solves complex narrative problems. The vulnerable process of finding your authentic voice. Whoo! This is SATISFYING.
Most authors tend to stay in jackrabbit mode for their entire journey. Or they swing wildly between the two without meaning to—feeling guilty during retreat, feeling scattered during emergence.
Your book needs both. In rhythm. With protection.
The Partnership Problem
Here’s what I can say after years as an author collaborator, from ghostwriting to editing to book strategizing: You can't be both the tarantula and the one guarding the burrow.
You can’t simultaneously do deep transformative work AND handle all the surface-level decisions, logistics, and external demands. The moment you try, you’re back above ground, running at full speed, wondering why the deep work isn’t happening.
While you’re in your burrow doing the essential work of transformation—turning expertise into narrative, experiences into chapters, vision into structure—someone needs to be managing the ecosystem above ground.
Choose your own adventure!
- You can schedule these alternating moments, shifting between the two.
- You can partner with someone to take a portion of these tasks.
What B looks like in practice (and for As to keep in mind)
- Decision hierarchy that protects your energy for choices that truly matter (core message, structure, voice) while delegating “train schedule"”decisions (formatting, transitions, word count)
- Structured process that sequences work strategically—you’re not facing 1,000 choices at once or switching between deep work and logistics hourly
- Clear boundaries that give you permission to retreat without guilt, knowing momentum continues and nothing critical falls through cracks
- Strategic emergence timed for maximum impact—feedback when it serves the work, visibility when it advances the project, not constant performance
What This Means for Your Book
If your manuscript feels scattered despite protected writing time, you're trying to stay above ground while also doing underground work. It won't work.
If you’re avoiding your project entirely, your creative mind may be protecting you from starting a vulnerable transformation you can't complete—because the conditions aren't safe yet.
If you’re making progress but it feels exhausting, you’re probably handling both modes without the support structure that makes rhythm sustainable.
I have experience creating these conditions for authors under publisher deadlines, authors at the start of their journeys, and my own writing. I know which decisions need your unique insight and which ones drain creative energy unnecessarily. I know when it's time to retreat deeper and when it's time to emerge—not before you're ready, not after momentum is lost, but exactly when your story needs it.
The solution isn't beating yourself up about more willpower. It's about a different architecture. And a shy tarantula as a mentor.
If you've got a story that needs protection and partnership, let’s talk about where you are and what conditions your book needs to grow. Sometimes you need a jackrabbit’s speed. Sometimes you need a tarantula’s patience. Always, you need someone who understands the difference—and how to create both.
Contact me to to schedule a conversation! Your book can start with a simple “hello.”
Elizabeth Smith is a ghostwriter, developmental editor, and book strategist with two decades of publishing experience—and a southpaw with a mean right hook. Between a NYC boxing gym and her Mojave Desert maison, she helps thinkers, creatives, and organizations articulate their ideas through books that resonate deeply.
Next in the Queen of Everything newsletter: Why even high-achieving authors freeze mid-project—and the specific decision-fatigue strategies that break the pattern. Subscribe to get practical tools for your book journey delivered monthly. .
