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Write the Kind of Content You Enjoy Reading

Think about what you’d search out to read first.

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What do you enjoy reading about?

In terms of subject matter, format, style, medium — everyone reads differently about different things.

Some of the best writing comes from people who loosely model their work after the reading material they love the most. Or the style or tone of writing that makes them feel motivated.

This is something many aspiring writers don’t consider when trying to build an audience, especially online.

They do what they’re supposed to do and focus on deciding what their audience will like best/is most likely to click on.

But when you’re feeling blocked — it happens — sometimes it helps to flip things around. To ask yourself, “If I were scrolling through Facebook right now, what would I really enjoy reading in this moment?”

You’ll likely come up with at least part of an idea that you can turn into something worthwhile.

So the next time you’re feeling stuck — that “I don’t know what I want to write about today” dilemma you might be familiar with — shift your focus from what your audience probably wants to read to what YOU might click on right now.

It’s just a different way of deciding the kind of content you want to produce in the short-term (e.g., at 8 a.m. on a Monday when you’d rather be doing anything but this because your coffee maker broke again and life is temporarily terrible). It’s not a long-term strategy — your audience comes to you to read what they enjoy, after all.

But you have to get something out of it, too. Especially on a rough day.

To be clear, I’m not saying you should never — or will never have to — write things you aren’t fully invested in. The company I work for makes money based on how many pageviews and sessions my (and other writers’) articles get. That often means I have to write on subjects I’d rather not, because those are the things people are more likely to want to read.

That’s just how things are — you learn to deal.

And in my case, I deal by using my “free” time to write these blog posts, and other things I enjoy writing. It’s a balance between what you have to write and what you want to create. It’s part of building up a career as a professional writer. You somehow get used to fitting it all together, to making it work, to staying happy even when you have to write another article about Meghan Markle for some reason.

You can care very much about what your audience wants/needs and still make room for writing you find fun and enjoyable. You almost have to. The fun stuff reminds you why you keep writing the less fun stuff when it doesn’t seem worth it.

It’s always worth it. You just have to make the most of it as best you can.


Meg is the creator of Novelty Revisions, dedicated to helping writers put their ideas into words. She is a staff writer with The Cheat Sheet, a freelance editor and writer, and a 10-time NaNoWriMo winner. Follow Meg on Twitter for tweets about writing, food and nerdy things.


Help Novelty Revisions become a more valuable resource for aspiring writers.  Join us on Patreon.

The Turning Point You Aren’t Expecting

Choose.

I spent the last month and a half of 2017 writing — and struggling to finish — the first, very rough draft of a novel.

The last few weeks, I had to give myself some breathing room. I loved the book. There wasn’t any doubt in my mind that I could finish the story. I was invested so deeply in those characters that I knew quitting was not an option.

But something was off. I felt a small, barely noticeable tug at the back of my mind. There was a slight unsettled feeling in my chest.

My book was missing something. Even without fully finishing the first draft, I couldn’t shake off my awareness of that terrifying fact.

One of the worst — and best — things that can happen to you, as you’re writing a story, is realizing there’s a connecting piece, vital to your project’s success, that you have not discovered yet.

Unable to quit — yet unable to go on — I walked away from the story.

It hurt. I physically felt it. More than anything, though, I was afraid that in doing so, I would never be able to return to it again.

Another cold, lifeless, unfinished book buried deep in my hard drive.

I did not want to live with that guilt.

But I’d reached what I thought was the final turning point in my journey. The moment where I had to decide: would I continue to drag myself through this rough draft until I finished it, or leave it as-is and stumble off in a different direction, away from the story and characters I loved?

Nearly a month later, on my own time, reading a published book by an author much more successful than I’ll likely ever be (let’s be honest), it hit me.

That missing piece.

That connecting factor I couldn’t quite pull from the air.

I know exactly what I need to do to turn the unfinished product into a fully-formed book.

It’s going to take months of restructuring, rewrites, and many more tears. (It’s an emotional story. I can’t help it.)

And so I came upon yet another crossroads in my seemingly endless journey to finish this book.

I could put in the hours upon hours of effort to revive this thing and give it the life it deserves.

Or I could just abandon it. Call it quits. Accept that I have learned an important lesson about my creative process and move on.

I made my choice. I approached a second, unexpected turning point and chose to go on.

If you’ve never encountered a moment like this in your life as a writer, you will.

And you, too, will have to choose.

Do you keep going?

Or do you save yourself hours — days, weeks, months — of work, and just say, “I’m done”?

For many aspiring writers, whether or not they finish what could turn out to be a highly significant project near the start of their careers comes down to a single, seemingly straightforward choice.

Persist — or don’t.

Do — or do not.

Go all in — or bow fully out.

No one can make this choice for you. Though you don’t want to hear it — you want a straight answer; we all do — you know, deep down, the best path to take.

There is no right or wrong. Good or bad.

There is only The Best — the option that you can live with for the rest of your life.

Can you stand to go on? Could you accept walking away?

This is your story. Both the one you’re creating on paper, and the one you’re building with each day that passes.

Choose.


Meg is the creator of Novelty Revisions, dedicated to helping writers put their ideas into words. She is a staff writer with The Cheat Sheet, a freelance editor and writer, and a 10-time NaNoWriMo winner. Follow Meg on Twitter for tweets about writing, food and nerdy things.


Help Novelty Revisions become a more valuable resource for aspiring writers.  Join us on Patreon.

I’d Rather Burn Out Than Fade

Ignite your flame.

I work too hard.

It’s a blessing. It’s a curse.

This doesn’t make me special or “better” in any way. It’s just who I am.

I set a goal and I sprint toward it until one of two things happens: I exhaust all my efforts until there’s no possible way of making it work, or I cross the finish line.

Blog posts. Articles. And a lot of work you don’t see, because honestly, a lot of what writers do never gets seen. That’s the nature of creativity.

It’s exhausting. But there are few complains in my heart (or on my Twitter profile).

I don’t know where exactly all my hard work will lead me. None of us do.

We know where we want to end up. I have a pretty solid idea of where I want to be a year from now, at least.

But that doesn’t mean we’ll end up right where we imagine we will.

Often, we land someplace even better than we hoped for. Eventually.

We spend a lot of time waiting for things to happen. We’re all guilty of it — even me. We wait for the right moment to put our plans into motion. We wait for opportunities to open up. We wait for others to reach out to us.

Even though there is no “right” moment. And we’re often responsible for creating our own opportunities. And we have to reach out to other people — they’re highly unlikely to make first contact.

Working hard is exhausting. There will always be moments when you Just Don’t Want To Anymore.

You’ll get discouraged. You’ll feel like you’re failing. You’ll start to question every decision you have ever made about this creative ‘hustle’ you were convinced would change your life.

But that’s when you have to decide.

Would you rather just give up — fade into the shadows of What Could Have Been?

Or will you go down swinging?

Keep creating until you’ve done all you can do?

Keep trying until something works?

Keep going, because what do you really have to lose?

I’d rather burn out than fade. One of the last lines of a song that could hold a dozen different meanings (isn’t that the point of a song — to meet the listener where they’re at?).

A phrase that has, if I’m allowed to be a little hyperbolic, changed my life.

I’d rather end every day feeling like I’ve made the most of my time, no matter how tired I am by the time my head hits the sheets.

I’d rather rise every Monday morning anxious, but ready to tackle my to-do list with as much enthusiasm as my first two cups of coffee allow.

I might be taking things slow. I might not be where I want to be quite yet.

But I’m trying. I’m doing the best I can.

Are you?


Meg is the creator of Novelty Revisions, dedicated to helping writers put their ideas into words. She is a staff writer with The Cheat Sheet, a freelance editor and writer, and a 10-time NaNoWriMo winner. Follow Meg on Twitter for tweets about writing, food and nerdy things.


Help Novelty Revisions become a more valuable resource for aspiring writers.  Join us on Patreon.

This Is It. This Is The One.

I mean it this time. The. One.

I don’t have to describe to you how it feels to encounter a brand-new idea. You already know.

It’s sort of, weirdly, like falling in love. It feels … pretty amazing, right?

Isn’t it strange, how with every new idea, you find yourself wondering, “Is this the spark that’s going to change my life forever?”

You can’t help it. You think, “This is it. This is the thing I’m going to finish. And other people are going to read it. And it’s going to be worth all the work I’m about to pour into this thing.”

Of course, those thoughts and feelings — that excitement; that wonder — don’t last. It’s just the reality of creativity. Ideas come and go. Some of them turn into great things. Others, eventually, fade away.

Time will do that to you. Make you forget why you ever bothered to start creating Project XZY in the first place.

Your novel idea loses its novelty. It’s not fun anymore. You know writing takes work … but it feels a lot more like work than it did when you started.

As creatives, we’re wired to explore; make discoveries; try new things. That’s why it’s so hard to resist that urge to grab every new idea that comes along and see what we can get out of it — even though we might already have three or four other half-finished projects slowly dying at our feet.

It’s not that we don’t care about those projects. They’re just … not as shiny as they used to be.

That doesn’t mean you have to say goodbye.

Is it OK to abandon some projects, if you truly feel your time would be better spent working on something else instead? Of course.

But remember: not every new idea has to become a new project instantaneously. You can put it out of your mind for a little while — let it breathe — while you tend to your other creative responsibilities for the time being.

And if you’re truly invested in that idea, when you return to it, you’ll do so with the same enthusiasm and dedication you felt when you encountered it for the first time.

Along the way, if you start to lose interest, do your best to reflect on why you said yes to it in the first place. What about it caught your eye? Are you considering giving up because you’re tired and don’t want to put in the effort anymore? Because something seemingly better has come along?

Maybe it’s because you’re afraid of how it makes you feel — remembering that when you stumbled upon it for the first time, you were sure it was the thing that was finally going to bring you the success you’d always dreamed of … because your whole heart was there.

That’s how much you cared then. And with a little work, yes. You can care that much again.

Ideas are fragile. Sometimes, when we break them apart, we just can’t quite figure out how to put them back together again. Not the right way. Not the way they’re meant to be.

But sometimes … they become something greater than we ever could have imagined.


Meg is the creator of Novelty Revisions, dedicated to helping writers put their ideas into words. She is a staff writer with The Cheat Sheet, a freelance editor and writer, and a 10-time NaNoWriMo winner. Follow Meg on Twitter for tweets about writing, food and nerdy things.


Help Novelty Revisions become a more valuable resource for aspiring writers.  Join us on Patreon.

13 Most Frustrating Things That Will Happen to You This Year

UUUUUGGGGGHHHHHHH.

1. Someone will ask you to do something writing-related for free.

2. Someone will give you harsh feedback you didn’t outright ask for.

3. Someone will leave you a mean/unhelpful/discouraging comment.

4. You’ll watch someone you know succeed and wonder what’s taking you so long to do the same.

5. You’ll finish a project you aren’t as proud of as you thought you’d be.

6. You’ll get a new idea for a story when you’re not even close to being done with your current four.

7. You’ll feel completely blocked, even though you know there isn’t a good reason for it.

8. You’ll wake up not wanting to write.

9. Some days, you won’t be able to do it — and you’ll feel discouraged.

10. Other days, you’ll do it — but you’ll feel like it wasn’t even worth it.

11. You’ll mess up.

12. You’ll get rejected (again).

13. You’ll start wondering why you even bother.

And how will you deal? You’ll just keep writing. You’ll take it day by day. You’ll make it work.

It won’t always be pretty. But the life of a writer rarely ever is.


Meg is the creator of Novelty Revisions, dedicated to helping writers put their ideas into words. She is a staff writer with The Cheat Sheet, a freelance editor and writer, and a 10-time NaNoWriMo winner. Follow Meg on Twitter for tweets about writing, food and nerdy things.


Help Novelty Revisions become a more valuable resource for aspiring writers.  Join us on Patreon.

How to Get a New, Distracting Idea Out of Your Head (For Now)

Stop thinking about it. (Okay, try.)

So this happened.

I wish I could say it was the first time an idea has inserted itself into my brain without permission. I’m sure it’s happened to you at least once before. You’re minding your own business when BOOM. There it is. Something else you don’t [feel like you] have time to write.

And yet it won’t go away. You can’t get it out of your head.

Every part of you is screaming, “We don’t have time for this! We have a job! We’re already working on another book! We haven’t even started that one project we’ve been putting off for two years!”

Yet the idea persists. Loudly, without ceasing.

You could just give in. Throw all your other priorities onto the floor and ignore them as you dive headfirst into this new endeavor you couldn’t possibly refuse.

Or you could do The Responsible Thing and tell it to shut up.

Except you don’t quite want to do that. Because right now, in this moment, it seems like a really, really good idea. You don’t want to completely abandon it forever before it’s even gotten the chance to become something amazing.

So how do you put it off to the side without forgetting about it completely? How do you go on with your life — business as usual — knowing there’s a Great Big Idea bouncing around in your brain, just waiting for you to give it the attention it’s begging for?

It’s simple, really. (REALLY.) You write your elevator pitch.

You know. The three-sentence micro-synopsis of your story. That thing you respond with when someone asks you what your book is about that doesn’t reveal all the super secret details you can’t wait to share.

That’s what I did this morning. Frustrated (and, let’s be honest, kind of excited), I opened up the Google Doc where I keep all my random ideas for things I may or may not work on someday and wrote a few sentences summarizing exactly what this idea was screaming at me to record.

And I’ve barely thought about it since.

I mean … not as much as I would have otherwise, anyway.

I have a million other projects I need to start/finish before I can even think about starting another book. I literally don’t have time for this right now.

But because I wrote it down, it’s very unlikely I’ll forget about it.

And if at any point in the next six months, this idea sprouts tiny baby ideas that are Essential to The New Book’s Plot, I’ll go back in and jot them down. Then I can “forget” about them again.

There’s a big difference between putting something off and putting it on hold.

If you have a good idea, save it. Be responsible — do your work and finish what you started. And then you can go play with your new eventually-to-be project.


Meg is the creator of Novelty Revisions, dedicated to helping writers put their ideas into words. She is a staff writer with The Cheat Sheet, a freelance editor and writer, and a 10-time NaNoWriMo winner. Follow Meg on Twitter for tweets about writing, food and nerdy things.


Help Novelty Revisions become a more valuable resource for aspiring writers.  Join us on Patreon.

Stop Memorizing So Many Writing Rules

Rules are great. You don’t have to follow all of them, though.

My sophomore year of high school, I had two classes with the same teacher — English and creative writing.

These two subjects are a lot alike. They are also very different.

In English, to teach us different patterns of sentence structure, our teacher had us write sample sentences for each type of structure. I loved it, of course — I got to write, AND I got to learn weird grammar rules while doing it.

And then I had to walk into that same classroom later in the day and do the exact opposite — write things without following any sort of structure.

It was harder than you’d think. Human brains like patterns. But there were a few times he had to remind me to stop “writing inside the lines.”

I was young then. We’ve all been there. In school, you’re afraid to be too “out there.”

But you can’t carry around that kind of fear in the real world. Especially not when you’re trying to make a name for yourself as a writer.

I like rules. My slight obsession with following them makes me a pretty good editor.

My refusal to follow many of them, on the other hand, makes me an even better writer.

This does, of course, come from someone who has been doing this whole writing thing for … uh, a long time now. I’ve done my part. I’ve learned all the rules. I’ve written papers exactly the way my instructors have told me to. I’ve written articles exactly the way my clients demanded they be written.

I just used so much passive voice it’s disgusting. But I’m allowed to do whatever I want. I make my own rules now.

You can do that, when it’s for a good cause (your content).

Do you have to learn the basic rules of grammar and structure and how your industry of choice works first? Absolutely.

But if you’re letting the rules keep you from actually getting massive amounts of writing done, you need to take a step back and just let yourself “go crazy.”

And by that, I mean, don’t force yourself to stay between invisible lines when you don’t have to. Parameters are there to teach you how to begin, to give you a foundation off of which to build yourself up.

It’s OK to break the rules. Especially when breaking the rules means letting yourself create in a style and at a capacity you never knew you were capable of before.

I don’t think you’ve reached your full potential as a writer until you’ve at least tried to write something that’s good enough not to have to follow any rules you don’t want it to.

Maybe you’re not ready for that yet. That’s OK.

Keep writing until you are.

Or work your way up to it, slowly. That’s OK, too. You have time.

Don’t obsess over doing everything “right” or “perfect.” That’s not how things get written, and you know it.


Meg is the creator of Novelty Revisions, dedicated to helping writers put their ideas into words. She is a staff writer with The Cheat Sheet, a freelance editor and writer, and a 10-time NaNoWriMo winner. Follow Meg on Twitter for tweets about writing, food and nerdy things.


Help Novelty Revisions become a more valuable resource for aspiring writers.  Join us on Patreon.

What It Really Means to Write from Personal Experience

When all else fails, write what you wish you could read.

It took me probably longer than it should have to figure out what kind of content I really wanted to bring to you on this blog every day.

That’s the way you have to go about it, when you don’t have a big enough audience yet to tell you what it wants to read. You start with “I’m interested in this” and go from there.

So I eventually settled on whatever this is — some hybrid of semi-educational and occasionally inspiring (?) content largely based on my personal experiences as a once-aspiring, now professional, writer. (It’s my blog after all — my experiences; all our benefit, maybe).

At some point I realized that I was looking for something to read that reminded me writing was not a waste of my time. That’s how this all started — I began following Meg Cabot’s blog (SHE’S STILL POSTING!!). I loved reading the sort-of-in-real-time thoughts of my favorite published author. But those were thoughts from a published author about, well, everything.

I wanted to tell more people about what it was like to be a sixteen-year-old aspiring novelist. And nine years later, it’s something a lot less self-centered. At least I like to think so.

Whenever I’m stuck on what to write about — when I’m not planning any days off, I write a post a day, seven days a week — I ask myself, “What do I need to hear/read right now?”

This is the tricky thing about how online publishing and social media algorithms and all that stuff works. Fewer people actually seek out specific content. They scroll through their feeds until they find something interesting to click on.

I frame this thought from the perspective of a frustrated or blocked or discouraged writer scrolling through their news feed, searching for something that will mirror their thoughts and make them feel less alone. Or give them something to work toward. Or remind them they’re not dumb for dreaming.

The advice I give is the advice I follow. I know it works for me; therefore, it’s likely at least a handful of readers will also find it helpful.

The concerns I voice are my own as much as they are yours — and if I’m not worried about them now, I used to be.

If there is a problem I have not experienced, or something I cannot help someone solve, I say so. I get comments on here all the time asking me how to get a literary agent. I’m the wrong person to ask, because I don’t have one (yet). This is not in my personal scope of experience, so I don’t feel comfortable addressing it.

Does that limit the range of things I can discuss here? Of course. That’s because I’m 25, haven’t even been out of school (technically) for a year, haven’t gotten around to publishing a book yet, am still figuring a lot of stuff out — and I’m not sorry about any of that.

 

I call myself a professional because a company trusts me enough to write things for them. Millions of people read these things. I would not be in this position if I weren’t capable of excelling at this whole writing thing. I don’t know why I always feel the need to justify my experience, but whatever.

I appreciate everyone who visits me here, whether they actually read my about page or not. Weirdly, writing from personal experience often means I’m not “experienced” enough for some readers. But the more I experience, the more I write about those experiences. And the more I learn and grow. And the more credible I (maybe) become.

A blog isn’t a diary, not in the traditional sense. Or it shouldn’t be. It’s a documentation of your development as a human, whether professionally, personally, or otherwise. Every story you tell should have a purpose that serves an audience, not just yourself.

You’re not just saying, “I am going to college to get a degree in writing and it’s hard.” You’re saying, “This is what it’s like, here’s what I’m going through, and here’s what we can all learn from it.”

We talk about ourselves not because we like it (well …), but because we’re constantly gaining knowledge from our adventures in the world and we want to share that knowledge with those who might benefit from it.

Whatever you have to share, don’t think it’s too self-serving. You never know. Someone out there might really appreciate it.


Meg is the creator of Novelty Revisions, dedicated to helping writers put their ideas into words. She is a staff writer with The Cheat Sheet, a freelance editor and writer, and a 10-time NaNoWriMo winner. Follow Meg on Twitter for tweets about writing, food and nerdy things.


Help Novelty Revisions become a more valuable resource for aspiring writers.  Join us on Patreon.

You’ll Carry Your First Rejection With You Forever — and That’s OK

You’ve grown a lot since then. Never forget that.

Do you remember your first-ever rejection as an aspiring writer? I’d be surprised if you didn’t.

Mine was possibly the worst type of rejection — the “we’re just never going to respond to you” variety. I was 14, really into the whole Chicken Soup for the Soul genre of personal essays. I spent weeks perfecting mine. Submitting it was one of the most exciting moments of my life.

Of course, I didn’t really expect to have my essay published. (That was a first that wouldn’t happen until two years later.) But I did expect some kind of reply — even a generic “thanks, but we’ve gone with another submission” would have sufficed.

But no. I just waited for an email for a really long time, until I guess I just moved on.

Looking back, it didn’t have a huge impact on my life — it probably wasn’t even that good of an essay, and flipping through my mortifyingly large collection of Chicken Soup books (yes, I kept them), having something published in one of those books didn’t really say much about how good of a writer you were.

Clearly, though, I haven’t forgotten that lack of reply — still technically a rejection, in its own way. I don’t think you ever truly do. I also don’t think you should.

You already know that getting rejected is just part of the deal. You wish it weren’t — we all do — but I highly doubt anyone sits down to write their first book/essay/blog post and expects it to launch them straight into stardom.

(I’m sure it happens SOMETIMES, but don’t count on it.)

Just because you know it’s part of a “real” writer’s journey doesn’t make it easier to deal with. Rejection hurts. It absolutely sucks, and I’m definitely not here to tell you otherwise. If you’re reading this because you’re in the midst of post-rejection grief, I’m sorry. This isn’t fun. But I’m here for you. We all are.

When you think back on your first rejection as a writer, what do you feel? Whether it was a long time ago or just last week, do you feel angry? Defeated? Confused? Sad? All of the above?

Probably not. You might have felt those things when it first happened. I’m sure I carried around some disappointment after the Chicken Soup for the Soul people ignored my heartfelt plea to let me tell my story.

But now … now you realize how much you’ve grown.

Maybe you’re still bouncing from rejection from rejection, trying to make this whole writing thing worth your hours of effort.

Maybe you’re actually making some money as a writer, and things are starting to work out.

You don’t remember past rejections to feel sad. You remember them because remembering reminds you that you are past the worst of it.

Back then, no one knew who you were. For all you know, the sole reason you got rejected could have been because you’d never submitted anything to anyone in your whole life before that moment.

Look. How. Far. You’ve. Come.

You’re amazing.

You’re not writing little essays anymore. You’re SOMEBODY.

Well, more of a somebody than you were. Assuming you’re doing all you can to get your work out there — and if you’re not there yet, well, you’ve come to the right place. I can [help you] fix that.

Rejection happens. But it’s part of, shall we say, growing up.

You face them head-on. You let yourself grieve. And then you just keep writing.

It worked for me. It’ll work for you, too. Eventually.


Meg is the creator of Novelty Revisions, dedicated to helping writers put their ideas into words. She is a staff writer with The Cheat Sheet, a freelance editor and writer, and a 10-time NaNoWriMo winner. Follow Meg on Twitter for tweets about writing, food and nerdy things.


Help Novelty Revisions become a more valuable resource for aspiring writers.  Join us on Patreon.

Everyone Has Obsessions — You Should Write More About Yours

Get nerdy. Get excited. Your people will find you.

I get excited about many things. I’m not always the best at what I do (I often rush), but I’m very good at sharing my enthusiasm with the people around me. People I work with appreciate me (somewhat) because I’m a good motivator, which I guess isn’t so bad, all things considered.

Sometimes, writing-wise, I let my enthusiasm carry me a little too far. As in, I’ll take one line of a song that spoke to me on a deep semi-spiritual level and write a blog post, post a tweet, make a video about it, and create a visual representation of its meaning and make it my cover photo on all relevant social media platforms.

These small bursts of obsessiveness are great in terms of creative exercise. It’s like making something based on a writing prompt your English teacher gave you in high school, except you accidentally found it yourself, and no one’s giving you a grade on your final product.

I’ve always been this way — over-excited about the things I feel connected with. I’ve obviously learned to tone it down significantly since my days of playing dress-up, still fully invested in the story my friends and I had created long after they’d lost interest and put their costumes back in the box. But when it comes to creative outlets, I’ve also learned when it’s OK to just let yourself run with something as far as you can manage to.

Writers, especially newer writers, spend a lot of time fixated on always catering to the interests of everyone they hope to reach. The problem is, it’s easy to forget in your early days that even if you only publish things a broad spectrum of people will like, you’re not going to be able to satisfy everyone enough to gain a sizable, loyal following.

This is still the case as you build an audience — part of accepting a position as a creative human is understanding that there will always be people who disagree with you or don’t care about everything you have to say. I guess that applies to life as a whole no matter who you’re talking to.

But I don’t think you can ever fully enjoy or see the worth in your work if you don’t, every once in awhile, let yourself completely “nerd out” over something that made you go, “OHMYGOSH THIS IS AMAZING I NEED TO TELL EVERYONE HOW THIS MAKES ME FEEL (excited)!”

We’re afraid to go to that extreme, sometimes, because we immediately assume no one else will share our enthusiasm (care).

To be honest, most people you know probably won’t care that much if it doesn’t resonate with them. But there’s always at least a handful of people out there somewhere who will.

And if this random thing that excites you motivates you to practice writing and refine your craft and stay consistent in your skill development, then don’t you think it’s totally worth going all out?

Not everything you write has to come from inspiration or enthusiasm or your obsessions — sometimes I take on assignments for work that have the exact opposite effect. But even with those less-exciting assignments, you have to give yourself room to also write things on your own time that make you feel like you’re on top of the virtual world.

So what gets you to this level of obsessiveness? What do you love? What could you write about every day for the next month without getting tired of it? You should write about it. Yes, right now!

It may not be profitable (yet). It may not get a ton of views or have the potential to become something everyone wants to subscribe to. But not everything you write has to fit those parameters. Sometimes you have to give yourself just one outlet that reminds you how much you love not just your obsession, but the physical act of writing about that thing.

If you’re looking for a way to “rediscover” your passion for writing, maybe this is it.


Meg is the creator of Novelty Revisions, dedicated to helping writers put their ideas into words. She is a staff writer with The Cheat Sheet, a freelance editor and writer, and a 10-time NaNoWriMo winner. Follow Meg on Twitter for tweets about writing, food and nerdy things.


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