(1 min read.) I’m not writing today. This blog post was written and scheduled days ago. Today, I’m with my loved ones and I’m eating snacks and taking naps. My projects are languishing on a hard drive, no new words are getting written, and nothing “important” is being made.
I don’t write every day.
If you do and you love that, don’t let me stop you.
But if you don’t, know that I’m with you.
We’re all nature. I think we do our most important labor when we respect the cycles of rest, hibernation, growth, and the gathering of resources that it naturally takes to produce a big, fancy, floppy floral blossom. Trees grow by making new leaves once a year. Sometimes their branches are bare. I grow a million words a year, but I don’t write them every f*ckin’ day.
If you’re finding your pen is dry or your mind feels too tangled, or pressured, or cluttered to write?
Maybe you don’t need a new approach to story beats.
Maybe you need a day off.
How do you feel about giving your work some space? It’s good to turn up and see if you can write, but pushing your pen is not the only way to make progress. It might be easier to fall in love with your page if you’re not feeling smothered by it. If you miss it, you’ll come home to it. I know this is unconventional advice from a writing coach, but I super-duper-ultra mean it. Writing consistently isn’t fragile. Not writing for a day won’t make you less of a writer.
There’s no right way to write. By experimenting with how often you write, you’ll discover what’s best for you. As a writer and as a person.
Maybe your process is an unpredictable firework. Light it up, let it blow, let it glow, then let it go because you wouldn’t want to always be on fire. Maybe your process is meant to be sudden, unruly, exciting, untamed, and unforgettably loud.
Maybe your process is a slow harvest. Gently nourishing and feeding your creative mind over a period of months or years as you let the fruit ripen a few words at a time. Maybe your process can’t be rushed because it is meant to be slow, glacial, steady, and patient.
Maybe your process is a daily routine. 300 words every morning. The diligent laying of one brick after another, because the soothing regularity and deep commitment of an everyday practice is exactly what your brain requires.
Love the process that’s YOURS. It’s more fun (and gets more done) than coveting someone else’s process.
It took me a while to learn this and sometimes I still forget it.
LOVE THE PROCESS (and the brain) THAT ARE YOURS.
xo, megan
Or just go home to the blog.
These (hopefully) really quite helpful creative writing tips offer what I’ve learned as an award-winning author who writes a million words a year, and what I’ve learned about supporting others as a private writing coach.
There’s no one way to write. There’s only your way. I hope some of my tactics and ideas can help you find it.
Yup, I’m a writing coach.
I work with folks at all levels of experience and all levels of income. My writers range from unhoused teens living on the streets to C-suite executives who want to up-level their communication. If you want a private coaching session but can’t afford it, email megan@howtowritesomething.com and ask for scholarship info.
curious/confused?: what does a writing coach do (and not do)
THANK YOU to this month’s generously supportive patrons who are helping me build a digital library of free writing resources to support writers with different access needs! Three cheers for A.J., Dan, Jason, Jennifer, Jessica, Josh, Katherine, Kathleen, Marianna, Nell, Sarah, and some anonymous folks who’ve asked not to be named. Come on in, the Patreon’s fine.