Encore Living

Starting Again With Time To Spare | EP155

• Thor Challgren

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0:00 | 13:17

Sometimes, starting again doesn’t begin with a plan, it begins with time.

In this episode, I share the story behind something I did last year that surprised me: I wrote a novel in 30 days. 

And what writing that book taught me about starting again had very little to do with writing, and everything to do with identity, permission, and this season of life.

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👉 Curious about the in-progress novel I mention in the episode?

Send me a DM on Instagram and just write “I’m reading.” I’ll send you the current draft. IG: https://www.instagram.com/drthor.tv

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If you enjoyed this episode, I invite you to join my free weekly newsletter, Encore Living Insider.

That’s where I share reflections like this one, along with what I’m working on next — small ideas, gentle reframes, and prompts to help you navigate this season of life with a little more clarity and ease.

👉 Sign up for Encore Living Insider here: https://insider.drthor.tv

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If you’re in midlife — especially if you’re a parent with a kid now off at college — you might be realizing something strange.

You have time again.

Not "stolen" time. Not five-minute windows. But real, open space.

And that can feel surprisingly uncomfortable.

In this episode of Encore Living, I talk about why starting something new can feel harder after you’ve been really good at something for a long time — and how the story you once lived inside as a parent can quietly shape what you believe you’re allowed to do next.

Using my experience of writing a novel as the lens, I explore three ideas that apply to any midlife beginning:

• Why the stories we tell ourselves about who we are can quietly keep us stuck
• How changing the “container” makes starting feel possible again
• And why identity doesn’t come before action, it follows it

This episode isn’t about productivity or reinventing your entire life.

It’s about what happens when a big chapter ends… and you suddenly have time to spare.

If you’re an empty nester, a midlife parent, or someone standing at the edge of a new beginning, unsure where to start, or worried about betraying who you’ve been, this conversation is for you.

As I share in the episode, sometimes the best way to become who you want to be isn’t to decide everything in advance.

It’s to take one honest step… and let a few people see you while you’re becoming.

P.S. If someone came to mind while you were listening, feel free to share this episode with them. Sometimes the most reassuring thing we can offer is a reminder:

You’re not behind. And you don’t have to decide everything yet.

You can find me here:

Dr. Thor on Instagram @drthor.tv
Dr. Thor on TikTok @drthor.tv

Website: https://drthor.tv/

Dr. Thor Challgren:

If you're in midlife, and especially if you're a parent whose kid is now off at college, you might be looking at your days and realizing something strange. You have time again. Not stolen time, not five-minute windows, but real open space. And that can feel surprisingly uncomfortable. Because once the parenting calendar clears, once the drop-offs and pickups and constant urgency disappear, a question starts showing up. Okay, what do I do with this now? Last year, I decided to use some of that time to finally do something I'd been circling for years. I wrote my first novel in 30 days. And here's the strange part the writing wasn't the hardest thing. What actually stopped me for years had nothing to do with discipline or talent. It was a story I was telling myself, pretty convincingly, about who I was allowed to be after parenting. Once I saw that story and changed one small thing about how I started, I wrote more than I had ever written before in my entire life. In this episode, What Writing a Book Taught Me About Starting Again, I want to share three things I learned from that experience. None of them are about writing, they're about identity, permission, and what it really takes to start again in midlife. And if there's something you've been thinking about starting, but haven't, I think this episode will really help. You know, they say there's no time like the present, so let's start the show. You spent years being an awesome parent. You were so good you could have won an Academy Award for Best Supporting Parent. Cut to present day. The kids are grown, the script is gone, and you're thinking, what's this part I'm playing now? Yeah, I get that. I had a 20-year career as a writer in Hollywood. All the while, I was the stay-at-home dad who did it all. Carpool, homework, soccer coach, girl scout leader. Then one day, my daughter left for college, and for me, it felt like the screen went dark. Like my life got canceled mid-season. That's when it hit me. Life wasn't over. I was just in between seasons. Now I'm a published author, TEDx speaker, and a new thought minister. I'm an OG fan of the original Superman movie. Can't pass up a good mox Ellen. Yeah, I'm the dad who ran a Girl Scout troop for 13 years, so I'm kind of an easy mark at cookie season. Every week I'll share fun, inspiring, and practical strategies to help you start over. Straight from someone who's been there. Welcome to Encore Living. Good morning, good evening, good wherever you are. Welcome to Encore Living. I'm Dr. Thor, and this is a show about starting again, especially in the seasons of life when the structure that once held everything together has kind of quietly changed. If you're a midlife parent navigating the space that opens up when your kids leave home, you're in the right place. Today's episode is it's a little different. I started as a YouTube video on my channel, drthor.tv, about writing a novel. And as I was recording it, I realized almost none of it was actually about writing. It was about identity, permission, and about what really helps when you're trying to begin something new in midlife. Before I talk about writing or the story I told myself, I want to pause and name something that might be sitting quietly underneath all of this for you. If you've been a parent for a long time, maybe 15, 18, 20 years, that wasn't just a role you play. That was your identity. It was the story you lived inside every day. You were needed, you were dependent on. You knew what mattered, and your time had a very clear shape. So when that chapter ends, even when it ends in a good way, it can leave behind more than just free time. It can leave behind a question. And that question isn't what do I want to do? It's who am I allowed to be now? And that's why starting something new in midlife can feel so strangely hard. Not because you don't have ideas, not because you don't have capability, but because the story that once held everything together is kind of still whispering in the background. And that's the story I ran straight into when I finally tried to write this book. For the longest time, I thought the hardest part of writing a novel was staring at a blank page, knowing I had to fill it with a hundred thousand words or more. And not just words, but good ones. I'd read authors I love and thought, this is so good. I could never write anything like this. That first paragraph, that opening line that sets the tone for the whole book. I mean, you read something like, it was the best of times, it was the worst of times, and you think, who am I to think I could do something like that? And here's where this ties back to midlife and parenting. Because when you've been really good at something, when you've poured years of attention, love, and competence into being a parent, you don't just stop doing that thing. You internalize a standard. So now whatever comes next can't just be something you try. It has to live up to the thing you were great at. And suddenly you're not choosing what to start. You're judging whether you deserve to start it. In my case, I told myself that novelists were a different category of writer. Stephen King, different species. Matt Haig, brilliant. John Skalze, also brilliant. Me, Thor, not. Maybe there was a secret handshake I missed. And that story, the story that they were different and I wasn't, it kept me frozen for years. A few pages here, promising opening there, and then I'd stop. Because stopping felt safer than finding out I couldn't do it. Here's the part that surprised me. On day one of this experiment, last July, after about an hour of writing, I remember thinking, oh, this isn't as hard as I thought. I mean, not easy, but doable. And that was uncomfortable. Because it meant the problem all along hadn't been talent or training or discipline. It was the story I'd been telling myself about who I was allowed to be. So instead of trying to change that story overnight, I changed the container. Here's what I mean by that. For years, whenever I thought about writing a novel, the story sounded like this 100,000 words a year or more. And real novelists stick with it that long. And honestly, I didn't think I was that person. Not because I'm lazy, but because a year is a long time to carry doubt. So I asked a smaller question, a better question. Could I show up for 30 days? That actually felt possible. I mean, not easy, but possible. There was proof this wasn't insane. People write 50,000 words in a month all the time. There's literally a thing called National Novel Writing Month. The only difference between the time I quit years ago and this time, it was the container. 30 days gave my brain boundaries. It knew when to start and when it could stop arguing. And once the container was set, motivation stopped being the main character. To hit my goal, I needed about 1700 words a day. Some days I wrote tired, some days I wrote badly. But the question wasn't, do I feel inspired? It was how many words do I need to write today? And that made everything easier. Because I wasn't just trying to write a great novel, I was just trying to stay inside the container. Before I get to the third piece, the identity shift, I want to pause for just a moment. If conversations like this are helpful for you, reflections on starting identity and this season of life, I send one short email each week called Encore Living Insider. It's where I share what I'm working through, what I'm noticing, and small reframes like this, without hype or hustle. You can sign up at insider.drThor.tv. I put the link in the show notes below, and it's totally free. Okay, back to the story. So here's the part no one really tells you when you take on something new. The identity shift, where you go from doing the thing to being the thing, it doesn't happen at the end. It happens earlier. At the beginning of my process, when I was writing my book, it was exciting. I'd get to 5,000 words, then 10,000 words. It was adding up every day. And I would start doing the math. And somewhere in there, something changed for me. I stopped thinking I'm trying to write a novel. And I started thinking I am writing a novel. Not because it was finished yet, not because it was any good, but because I was doing the work consistently inside that container of 30 days. Then, about halfway through the 30 days, I hit the middle. For me, that was somewhere between 15 and 30,000 words. The excitement of the beginning was gone, and the end still feels so far away. It's just you, the work, and a lot of days that felt pretty unremarkable. But then something strange happens as you get closer to the end. Around 40,000 words, I remember thinking, wait a minute, I could actually finish this. Time started to feel way more elastic. What seemed impossible at the beginning suddenly felt possible. And when I crossed 50,000 words three days early, I cried. I mean, literally cried. I was so happy. Not because it was perfect, not because the novel was done, it's not, but because I had done the thing I'd told myself for years I couldn't. I didn't write because I was a novelist. I became a novelist because I wrote. Action didn't follow identity. Identity followed the action that I took. And that's the part I wish more people understood when they're standing at the beginning of something new. So here's where I am now. I'm still working on the book. It's not finished, it's not polished, but it's real. And one thing that helps me keep showing up is letting the work be seen before it's perfect. So if you're curious, I'm inviting a small group of people to read along while I finish it. The novel is called Come Back New. It's about a woman who comes back from a week in Hawaii and realizes she doesn't remember what happened. Everyone tells her she's changed, that she's nicer, and her life starts quickly falling apart. So she goes back to Hawaii, this time like a detective, trying to figure out what happened to her. If that sounds interesting, head over to Instagram and send me a DM that says, I'm reading. Just DM me, say I'm reading. I'll send you whatever version of the book exists right at that point. No feedback required, no expectations, just for me, a few real readers while I finish the book. Sometimes the best way to become who you want to be is to let a few people see you while you're becoming. And that's Encore Living. If you like this episode, please consider subscribing to the show. That way you'll always have these conversations waiting for you when a new episode drops on Mondays. And if you haven't already, sign up for the Encore Living newsletter. That's where I share reflections like this one, along with what I'm working on next. The link is in the show notes below. Thanks for spending this time with me today. Until next time, take care of yourself.