People romanticise the writing process a LOT. They imagine authors at charming desks, gazing thoughtfully out of rain-streaked windows, occasionally sipping exotic tea while the words flow like poetry from their fingertips.

Those people have never written a book.

The truth is that writing a novel is an emotional odyssey that can be accurately tracked through what you are putting in your mouth at any given stage. I have written enough books to confirm this is a universal pattern. 

It goes something like this:

Stage One: The Idea Snack of choice: Nothing. You are too excited to eat.

The idea has arrived. It is perfect. It is the best idea anyone has ever had. You can see the whole story... the characters, the tension, the ending that will make readers sob into their pillows at midnight.  You open a fresh document and type the title and feel like an absolute genius.

You don't need food. You are sustained entirely by potential.

This stage lasts approximately one afternoon.

Stage Two: The Outline Snack of choice: Something sensible. A banana, maybe. Some nuts. You are being professional.

You are a serious writer with a serious plan. You have a notebook and a notebook app and you're using both. Everything is under control and you are definitely the kind of disciplined, organised person who outlines properly and sticks to it.

The banana is fine. The nuts are sustaining you. You are doing okay.

Stage Three: The First Chapter Snack of choice: Biscuits. Just a couple. As a treat.

The blank page is somehow still blank despite the outline. The characters aren't doing what you planned. The hero has already developed a personality you didn't give him and the heroine has opinions you didn't expect her to have about a dog you also didn't expect her to have. You write the first paragraph seven times. You eat three biscuits and write it an eighth time.

It's fine. The first few chapters are always hard. You'll come back to it.

You eat one more biscuit just to be safe.

Stage Four: The Middle Snack of choice: Whatever is nearest. Standards have slipped.

Nobody tells you about the middle. The middle is a swamp. You went in confidently and now you're not sure which direction is out. The plot that seemed so brilliant in the outline has developed several unexpected holes and your characters have stopped speaking to each other. They are only speaking to the dog, who is somehow now also an apha wolf. This was not supposed to be a paranormal fantasy.

You are now eating cereal at 2pm directly from the box.

Stage Five: The Plot Hole Snack of choice: Chocolate. Specifically the good chocolate you were saving.

There is a structural problem. A how did no one notice this problem. The thing you established in chapter three is completely incompatible with the thing that happens in chapter eleven and you have written forty thousand words since then.

The good chocolate is gone. You eat the backup chocolate cake and stare at the wall for a while.

You fix the plot hole. You don't know how. You just do. This is the most heroic thing you will ever do and no one will ever know.

Stage Six: The Flow State Snack of choice: You forgot to eat. This is not a joke.

Suddenly, inexplicably, it's working. The words are coming. The scene you've been circling for two weeks just landed and it's good, it's actually good, and you look up and it's dark outside and your boyfriend has gone to bed having failed to get you to eat dinner. 

You eat his cold leftovers standing over the sink and feel like an absolute champion.

Stage Seven: The Final Push Snack of choice: Caffeine in any form, mainlined.

The end is in sight. You can feel it. You are so close. Sleep is a mere suggestion. Meals are theoretical. You are running entirely on coffee, adrenaline, and the deeply personal vendetta you have developed against this manuscript.

You will finish it however. You will finish it today... right after this next cup.

Stage Eight: Typing 'The End' Snack of choice: Something celebratory. Prosecco if it's after noon. Prosecco anyway.

You did it. It's done. The document is finished, the story is told, and you feel simultaneously euphoric and completely hollowed out, like a very proud and exhausted shell of a person.

You open the prosecco.

Another idea strikes.

You're not sure what to eat yet. Maybe you don't need food. You have another book to write! 

Writers: which stage are you in right now? And more importantly — what are you eating?