Writing my first novel: between doubt, desire and taking the leap

I like to write.

For a long time now, I have nurtured the quiet dream of publishing a novel one day. Perhaps it is audacious — some would say presumptuous — but this desire persists, silent and faithful.

I consider my writing simple, sometimes overly logical, as if marked by the rigor of my engineering profession. I gaze with admiration at the "real" authors whose works I devour: the subtle architecture of their ideas, the precision of their words, the richness of their imagination both amaze and intimidate me. Compared to them, I often feel tiny.

However, passing readers—friends or strangers—invite me to take the plunge. Their encouragement instills in me a timid, but tenacious confidence.

So why not? After all, what do we risk, except a blow to our pride?

I will therefore publish the first chapters of a "novel", inspired by my married life, which is said to be unique.

I look forward to your reactions.