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Hey there,
There’s a Steve Jobs quote I’ve always loved. You probably know it. The one about connecting the dots — how you can only see the pattern looking backwards. How you have to trust that the dots will somehow connect in your future.
I think he left something out.
Sometimes the dots don’t connect because they’re not there yet. Nobody placed them. You’re staring at a blank stretch of future waiting for a pattern to emerge, and the pattern won’t come because the dots are still yours to drop.
The question is: how do you build the scaffolding when you can’t see what the structure wants to be?
I discovered this the hard way. With the novel.
Remember that thriller I mentioned — the one I’d been stuck on? I had the opening scene written in 2018, a main character I liked, and a premise that kept me up at night: a woman wakes up on a long-haul flight from Singapore to Zurich to find everyone else unconscious — and discovers someone is betting on what happens next.
For years I’d sit down, write a scene, stare at it, rewrite it, question it, close the laptop. One stubborn dot at a time, trying to make each one land perfectly before I knew where any of them were going.
Then something shifted. I stopped writing the scene and started writing the arc.
Not a detailed outline — more like dropping dots on a timeline. What if this happens here? What if another character appears there? What if the drama in chapter twelve echoes something planted in chapter three? I wasn’t connecting dots backwards. I was placing them forwards. I didn’t know how they’d connect exactly. I just knew where they could land.
A full book outline of 34 chapters fell out of a pure flow state sprint. Now I’m deep into writing it as book one of a conspiracy series — with the full series arc already on the whiteboard.
And the thing that surprised me most wasn’t the plot. It was the joy. Writing fiction lights me up in a way I hadn’t expected. No writing degree, no published fiction — but starting something I’m not sure I’m qualified for turns out to be one of the best decisions I’ve made. Not because I’m great at it. Because beginning, unqualified, in a space where I’m genuinely a beginner, created a momentum I couldn’t have planned.

Here’s where I think the Jobs quote is half right. Looking backwards, the dots always make a beautiful story. But waiting for them to connect on their own? That’s how you end up stuck for years with a premise that owns you instead of the other way around.
The alternative is messier: place some dots in the future. Don’t obsess about how they’ll connect. Trust the arc, not the scene. Start before you’re qualified. You might not end up where you planned, but you’ll end up somewhere you chose — and that’s a different thing than somewhere you drifted.
That works for novels. I’m fairly certain it works for everything.

One more thing.
I’ve been filming something this year. A set of tools I’ve been coaching with and field-testing for nearly twenty years — the mental performance techniques from my running and coaching life. I’ve been turning them into something anyone can use, starting with color.
“But wait, does it come with a coloring book?” asked no one.
Actually, it does!
I made a short guide called the Green Supercharger — a five-minute read on one of the most powerful colors in the system. It’s yours if you want it: grab the Green Supercharger here.
More on what I’ve been building soon.
Until next time,
Jeff
— Coach Jeff Grant (Hilly)
Hillseeker | Ko Samui, Thailand
This is an edition of Dispatches, Jeff’s bi-weekly newsletter. Browse the archive · Subscribe
Free — The Green Supercharger
Real Coaching, Not a PDF Teaser
A course video, a coaching audio, a guided visualization, and a 5-page reference guide — four formats of the same tool I’ve coached for twenty years. One color. Everything you need to use it. Free.


