Simply be Curious began as a self-published book in 2024, but the idea had been with me for much longer than that. For years, I had notes, questions and drawings scattered across different places. Thoughts I kept returning to about curiosity, creativity, courage, care and the small steps that can change more than we first expect. I wanted to gather them into something tangible, partly because I wanted to share them, but also because I wanted to make sense of them for myself.
At the time, I did not know exactly what the book would become. I only knew that I wanted to see whether I could take all these loose ideas and shape them into something real. I had written articles, made illustrations and spoken about curiosity in different ways before, but a book felt different. A book asks you to decide what belongs, what does not, what you really mean and what you are willing to stand behind.
When it got harder
Writing the book was both joyful and frustrating. There were moments when everything seemed to connect and the work moved quickly. Then there were periods when I could not see the thread at all. Structuring the chapters was difficult. Finding the balance between reflection, practical ideas and drawings was difficult. Deciding what to leave out was difficult too. There were many edits, long pauses and plenty of self-doubt.
I questioned whether the book was useful, whether it offered anything new, whether it was good enough and whether it was worth the effort. But I did not need to get rid of the doubt. I needed to make sure it was not the one making the final decisions.
That is often what happens when an idea starts becoming real. It is easy to like it when it is still only an idea. It is harder when it starts asking for structure, choices, edits and endurance. Doubt can be useful when it helps us look again and ask whether something is clear enough or honest enough. But when doubt decides whether we publish, create, apply or begin, it can keep too many good things unfinished.
Making it mine
The most important thing for me was that the book felt true to me. I wrote the words, drew the illustrations, designed the cover and laid out the pages. Of course, I hoped that other people would like it. That would have been a bonus. But the first job was not to make something that everyone would approve of. The first job was to make something I could stand behind.
That was also why I kept the work quite close while I was writing it. I did not ask many people to comment on the content during the process, because I knew what would happen if I did. I would start adjusting the book to other people’s tastes before I had fully worked out what I wanted to say. Their opinions might have been thoughtful and generous, but the book would have changed. For me, the value of making it was that it was mine.
Near the end, I did ask for opinions on the cover because I was very indecisive. The answers varied, as they usually do when it comes to taste. Then my son said something that stayed with me: “That is the one I prefer. However, Mum, it is YOUR book.”
He was right. Other people can have useful opinions. Sometimes we need them. But when something is ours to make, we still need to be able to choose.
Deciding it was ready
The point where the book became real came before my 50th birthday. Friends started asking what I wanted as a present, and I realised that what I really wanted was to hold Simply be Curious in my hands. Not as a folder on my laptop. Not as a half-finished document. Not as something I might finish one day. As a real book.
That gave me the deadline I needed. I knew that if I did not finish it then, there was a risk that it would stay in the endless cycle of editing, improving and reconsidering. I had to decide when it was ready to exist. That did not mean rushing or being careless. It meant recognising that the book had done what it needed to do.
It was not perfect. It was finished.
That mattered more.
We can spend a long time trying to make something flawless before we let it out into the world. But at some point, the work needs to become real enough to be used, read, shared or experienced. Finishing something matters. It tells us that we can take an idea from the inside and give it a place in the real world.
The tools that helped
Several tools helped me move the work forward. Miro helped me organise ideas into a visual mood board. Google Docs helped me write, edit and proofread. Adobe Illustrator helped me draw the illustrations and create the cover. Adobe InDesign helped me lay out the book. ChatGPT helped me make parts of my English clearer.
The tools supported the work, but they did not decide what I cared about, what I meant or what I wanted to put into the world. That feels even more relevant now. We have access to tools that can help us create faster, organise more easily and shape ideas in new ways. That can be useful. But the thinking, the choosing and the responsibility for what we create still belong to us.
A book to return to
Simply be Curious was never meant to be a book that you read once and then put away. I imagined it as something you could return to. You could read it from beginning to end, then come back to different chapters when you felt drawn to them. One day, you might need a reminder about courage. Another day, it might be care, joy, self-doubt or taking one small step. The blank pages were there for notes, thoughts and reflections.
The idea was simple: read a little, reflect a little, practise a little.
I would not write the same book today. My voice has changed. My thinking has developed. I have learned more about what curiosity looks like when life is busy, uncertain or under pressure. But the heart of the book still matters to me: curiosity, care, courage, joy, small steps, hope and the belief that we do not have to work everything out alone.
What it is becoming
Simply be Curious is no longer only a book title. It is becoming a place to practise. The ideas in the book are continuing through reflections, small practices, shared conversations and, over time, a wider community for those of us who want to live and lead with more curiosity, clarity and care.
The printed book is still available through Solentro.
But the book is no longer the only place to start. Sometimes the next step is simply to notice one thought you keep coming back to, give it a little more attention and see what it may be asking of you.
Writing a book is a journey through self-discovery, perseverance and the joy of creating something meaningful from the chaos of ideas.