This!!! Lately I've been in a slump, I've found that setting a 30 minute timer where I put phone on do not disturb, only have my document up on the screen, and write — not editing it as I go just write for 30 minutes straight — has helped. By the end of those 30 minutes I'm usually in a flow and try again for another 30 and so on.
I also like collecting quotes or photos (I use Pinterest) that connect to my story. It's a way of grounding me back into the world and a source of inspiration.
I used to commute 1 hour back and forth to work everyday and that time in the car by myself is when a lot of the building for my novel took place. So now whenever I'm in the car, it's reflexive almost for me to work out plot lines, dialogue, etc.
Dec 28, 2024
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In university, I needed a really strict environmental setup to even think about starting an essay. I needed my water bottle, a good table in the library, enough sleep, and a full belly. The library had to be quiet, and in more extreme cases, I even brought earplugs.
Lately, during my lunch hour at my nine-to-five job, I've been using the time to write, often tucked away or sitting on the floor around the office. I tap away at whatever I can get down, to later return to and edit. I have to take these stolen moments. I'm too hazy in the morning to write, and too tired of looking at screens in the evening. Weekends are often sacred for friends and rest. I think, for many of us, the new habit of writing won’t be glorious, long-haul manic frenzies. It’ll be about taking sips here and there, getting down on the page whatever we can.
Sep 18, 2024
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When I'm stuck or seem to lack motivation, I often force myself to start putting words on paper.
I just grab a notebook — not a digital device, gotta eliminate escapes and distractions — and start writing. Even if it it begins with "I don't know what the hell to write," at least I'm writing.
Eventually it goes somewhere.
Oct 16, 2024
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General hell yeah to the previous recs. I mentioned The War of Art earlier today and it addresses specifically this question, if you feel reading a book would help.
I'm a creature of habit so having a routine is vital for me. An hour or two right after work is my create time everyday. I do my best to eliminate distraction by writing drafts out by hand or typing on my ipad mini + portable keyboard combo. And you need to get to a place where you can accept that unproductive create time is not wasted time. Staring into the middle distance is vital to the creative process.
Reduce friction so you can't make excuses to not create! That means keeping that camera on you AT ALL TIMES. Keep pen and paper on you AT ALL TIMES. Whatever you need for your project it needs to be with you or easily accessible otherwise you won't make space for it.
And feed your brain. Read, watch, listen, play, and experience as much as you can.
Apr 11, 2024
Top Recs from @jmeridian
Back in April I went to the PNW for 11 days solo! This trip pushed me and taught me so much about myself. I did a bunch of hiking even though before this I wouldn’t have called myself a hiker. Driving through remote areas with poor reception forced me to trust myself. I loved the solitude and nature and who I became on this trip. I also got 2 tattoos (my first!!) and worked through my fear of needles! I’m tougher than I think.
Dec 27, 2024
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My grandparents owned an ice cream shop for 35 years. In the early days they sold sandwiches too, before moving to just ice cream. At one point when my dad was an adolescent, they actually lived above their shop. My grandma would dream up flavors and my grandpa would make them — he's lactose intolerant, he never really even reaped the one benefit of owning an ice cream shop. My grandparents, dad, aunt, great aunts and uncles, second cousins, and even my mom all worked fairs and festivals scooping ice cream. It was a family business, my grandma and grandpa were the core. They had to change locations twice. They "retired" at least once before actually retiring. This ice cream shop was an institution.
For me though it was the place where we would have Thanksgiving. Closed for the season, the shop was the only space big enough for all of us. I had birthday parties there as a baby. It was our first stop after a five hour drive across state lines to see family. That's the place where, at my grandpa's insistence, I wrote my initials into the wet cement he had laid down for a bike rack. They are still there.
When I was 16, I worked at the shop over the summer. You don't realize how tough it is. Decades of dipping had made my grandpa particular. I didn't have the wrist strength or the speed necessary when there were customers out the door, all of them hungry and agitated by the stifling heat. I was terrified of giving someone back the wrong amount of change. Becoming almost paralyzed by the responsibility of being behind the cash register — it was their livelihood after all. That was my grandma's responsibility. I was in charge of the milkshakes and malts. I decorated sundaes with hot fudge, wet walnuts, sprinkles, and cherries. I packed the shaved ice into paper cones and doused the evenly shaped mounds with syrup. I doled out the frozen lemonade into styrofoam cups. My hands became raw from all the cleaning. I'm now particular about hygiene in the kitchen and always tip.
My grandparents still own the building, renting it out to a dentist and coincidentally, an ice cream shop. It's so strange now to go there. Everything is entirely different while being exactly the same. They painted the chairs a different color, but they are still those heart-shaped wrought iron, poorly cushioned chairs I know from childhood. Some of the flavors have remained. But it's not the same. Maybe they're buying their heavy cream from a different supplier. Or the high schoolers who work behind the counter aren't as precise with the measurements. I can try, skipping the artisanal flavors for the ones I grew up eating, but it will never be the same as it was.
And that's alright. They're softer now, my grandparents; the anxieties and stress of those decades having melted away. These days, ice cream is just ice cream.
Dec 30, 2024
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“Love has never been a popular movement. And no one's ever wanted, really, to be free. The world is held together, really it is held together, by the love and the passion of a very few people. Otherwise, of course, you can despair. Walk down the street of any city, any afternoon, and look around you. What you've got to remember is what you're looking at is also you. Everyone you're looking at is also you. You could be that person. You could be that monster, you could be that cop. And you have to decide, in yourself, not to be.”
James Baldwin
Dec 24, 2024