A child stands at the end of a dock on a summer afternoon, gazing into the lake. She wants to jump in and swim, but spends a long time preparing herself.

She sits on the edge of the dock and dangles her feet in the top inches of the lake water. It feels icy on her warm toes. She stands up and steps into an inflatable swim ring, so she’ll bob up and keep her head dry when she jumps in.

The water looks both inviting and scary.

She grabs the ladder at the end of the dock and lowers herself on to the top rung. If she waits long enough, even her ankles get accustomed to the cold. But that next step … that one will be hard.

Back up the ladder, she puts her towel on the dock where it will be right at hand when she gets out after the swim.

Her family, already in the lake, shouts encouragement. “Jump in! It’s fine once you start swimming.”

That’s how I feel sometimes when chatting with people who are planning their writing projects. Like the reluctant swimmer, they linger on the dock rather than diving in. They gather tools they might need. They test the waters.

Planning and preparation are convenient disguises for Resistance.

Recognizing Resistance

In The War of Art, Steven Pressfield describes Resistance (with a capital R) as a powerful force that keeps us from taking risks. He writes:

“Resistance cannot be seen, touched, heard, or smelled. But it can be felt. We experience it as an energy field radiating from a work-in-potential. It’s a repelling force. It’s negative. Its aim is to shove us away, distract us, prevent us from doing our work.”

Stephen Pressfield

Resistance is most powerful when it operates in the shadows—when you sense its inhibiting presence rather than examining it directly. To avoid being seen, Resistance often hides behind other socially-acceptable behaviors.

Here are a few of the forms that resistance takes for the writers that I speak with:

Planning and preparation

Resistance often looks like planning and preparing. It sounds like this:

I need to research tools for managing my notes and writing before I start the book. Should I take a class on Scrivener?

In the summer, I should have a several uninterrupted weeks to write, so I’ll wait for that.

On the surface, these statements appear reasonable. But the perfect time to write never really happens.

If you wait to get all your ducks in a row, they may migrate south.

You won’t really know what tools you need on a writing project until you’re in it. Write using whatever tool you know and like today.

If you discover you need more structure, by all means, find another tool. But you cannot evaluate a writing platform like Scrivener fairly until you have a project ready to work with. Even then, you have to be in the middle of it to really learn.

You don’t know what you need until you’re swimming in the writing.

Waiting for the original idea

When I come up with an original idea, I’ll start writing.

Someone already wrote the definitive book on my subject. No publisher will want mine.

Originality is overrated. If you invest deep thought and research in your work, the result will be uniquely yours, even if other people have covered the same territory.

You probably have a unique approach or perspective. You may not discover it until you’re working on your project.

If you’re waiting for that original idea, ask yourself why originality is so important.

Isn’t there room for more than one book, blog post, video, or podcast on a topic?

(I certainly hope so, because an army of excellent authors write about writing.)

Will someone find value in your perspective on this topic? And if so, would you withhold it back them out of some internal commitment to originality?

Here’s an idea—write about those other works that inspire you. Share them with others, while offering your unique lens

Jump in

Remember the girl on the dock? That was me on family vacations. I loved swimming. Yet every single time, I dithered on the dock, negotiating with Resistance. In doing so, I lost valuable time in the lake.

Jump into your writing project. As you work, you’ll figure out what you want from tools. Your unique angle will come into focus. You’ll learn how to get the help you need.

You’ll figure it out.

Related writing

Related post: Writing, Courage, and Community

For inspiration on writing a book, see Get the Word Out: Write a Book That Makes a Difference.

Annual resolutions and plans have a disconcerting way of dissolving partway through the year.

At the start of 2021, I resolved not to write a book in the year. Get the Word Out released in November of 2020, and I intended to spend 2021 promoting and supporting it.

Nevertheless, 33 Ways Not to Screw Up Your Business Emails appeared in September. It was not in my plans for the year, but I’m happy to have written it. (Thanks to Melissa Wilson for inviting me to do it!)

That’s the thing about plans. We need them until we abandon them. 

Plans are like outlines. From my Nonfiction Author Survey: only 6% of the published authors surveyed wrote a book that matched their initial outline exactly.

As writers, we need both the Muse and the Scribe (the creative and the focused/disciplined parts of ourselves). Planning definitely belongs to the Scribe. It’s necessary, but not sufficient.

The planning paradox

The plotter/pantser dilemma applies to more than fiction. 

If you’re not familiar, in the world of fiction:

• Plotters are people who plan out everything before writing
• Pantsers, in contrast, see where the writing takes them. (They write ‘by the seat of their pants.’)

Fiction writers stake out positions in one camp or the other. Most inhabit a combination of the two approaches.

The same tension applies to our writing plans.

Plans motivate us to act. Yet creativity means looking beyond the obvious. We need to be creative not only about our manuscripts, but about our writing lives in general.

The musician Questlove puts it this way:

“Creative life sometimes means knowing when deviation from the plan should become the new plan.”

Questlove, from Creative Quest

So, what do we do?

Do we outline or not? Do we make plans for the year, knowing (from hard experience) that life intercedes?

Just as with outlines, we need plans to set off in the right direction, so we can be on the trail when an interesting turnoff shows up.

Here’s my planning compromise:

Plan the process, not the results

I have no idea what the year ahead will bring. The only thing I can control is how I approach each day—my process.

At the start of 2021, I committed to write something every day in a story journal.

You know what? I did it! 

Oh, some days the entries were more observations than stories. Some started and fizzled out.

And I missed a few days of entries, especially when traveling.

It wasn’t perfect, but it was fascinating. (Read my mid-year reflection on the experience.)

I committed to the process, not the outcomes. Then I had the joy of exploring those outcomes.

Lessons from the my story journal experiment

I was tempted on occasion to abandon my story journal project. But I didn’t, partly because I’d committed to and blogged about it publicly. How can I face my readers if I don’t follow through?

Here’s the lesson from that experience: Accountability strengthens our process.

Also, some days my entries were quite short—scribbled down within five minutes. But simply showing up maintained the momentum.

Another lesson: Start with small commitments you can sustain.

What’s your (process-focused) plan?

How does this make you feel about planning for 2022? More relaxed? Curious and open to possibilities?

Find someone to share your plans with. Share them with me, if you’d like. I’ll check in and see how you’re doing. Maybe that will help you stick to your writing process!

Related content

For more about the Muse and the Scribe, see The Writer’s Process.

Read about my story journal experiment.

I never regret time spent writing. 

It doesn’t matter whether I’m scribbling in my morning pages or story journal, working on a book, or crafting these posts. I always emerge more in tune with myself or others.

Even when you’re doing it for others, writing is a gift to yourself. 

When you’re working on a deadline or powering through a manuscript, it’s easy to see writing as a chore. When that happens, you might lose sight of its magic.

So, let this post be an invitation to welcome the gifts of writing into your life.

The gift of introspection

The world moves pretty quickly, particularly during the holidays.

When you pick up a journal and a pen, you take your foot off the gas for a moment. Writing gives you the chance to slow down and reflect on yourself or the world around you.

Even when I’m busy—especially when I’m busy—I take a moment with my pen and journal to find a story from the day, or to write in my morning pages journal. Almost without fail, my effort is rewarded with a moment of clarity or insight.

This gift costs nothing but a pen and paper and a few minutes of your time.

The gift of creativity

When you start a daily writing habit, good ideas arrive, trickling in slowly or rushing the doors, like guests to an exclusive pop-up restaurant.

The secret of creativity is this: it’s not a passive trait. It’s active. You need to be looking around, working, engaging. Writers need to be writing.

My book The Writer’s Process offers the Muse and the Scribe as characterizations of the different mental processes involved in writing. The Muse (the creative one) doesn’t like to appear unless she knows that she’ll be welcome.

The best way to welcome the Muse to your writing is through action—show up and write. Anything.

Even if you don’t feel creative, something magical happens when you write every day. You get more ideas. Instead of getting “used up” when you write them down, ideas multiply.

Having an abundance of ideas to explore is like having a bookshelf loaded with books you want to read. This is true wealth.

The gift of expanded perspective

Although it seems to happen entirely inside our own heads, writing is also an exercise in understanding others. It’s a gateway to empathy.

Writing is, at its core, connecting with other people’s brains.

• Fiction writers inhabit the minds of the characters they create. 
• Memoir writers explore the perspectives of the other people in their experiences.
• Nonfiction writers need to understand the reader’s perspectives and motivations, and then connect with them. That’s a core tenet of my concept of servant authorship. 

Writing gives you a chance to put yourself in someone else’s place, inhabit their mind. That’s cognitive empathy in action.

What gift will you give yourself?

If you always write for publication or work, consider doing something just for yourself: Morning pages, a journal.

(Read about my story journal experiment, which is still going!)

If you write for yourself but never share it, consider giving the gift of your words to someone else. Write someone a thoughtful note about their impact on your life. or put a blog post into the world.

Connecting with others through your words is a gift—to them, and to you.

You might also like:

My Story Journal Experiment

The Writer’s Process

Consistency in Writing

Consistency is hard. That’s why it’s so rare—and so valuable.

As a writer, you need consistency for many reasons:

• Improving your craft
• Feeding creativity and generating ideas
• Building an audience or an author platform

All of these goals require consistent effort over time.

The importance of consistency came home to me recently reading Mark Schaefer’s new book Cumulative Advantage* about the fact that advantage breeds advantage. 

In the book, Schaefer offers a formula for how creative innovative ideas take off, or books become best-sellers that lead to a friendship with Oprah. (Hello, Tim Ferriss.)

Authors who already have platforms have more success with their next books. Success breeds success.

Many factors contribute to wild success: identifying a “seam” of opportunity, leveraging that seam with a “sonic boom” of promotion, getting others to help you spread the word. And of course, luck and personal fit come into play.

But his formula includes building momentum through constancy of purpose.

Here we are again—consistency. Schaefer writes: “Consistency is more important than genius.”

How can you introduce consistency into your writing life? Here are a few ideas.

Find the right pace

Maybe you’re one of those people who can publish a blog every day. Seth Godin does, bless him.

I’m can’t do it — and I’m a writer. 

For years, I blogged every week. Over time, it felt like a chore—which probably showed in the writing. And the blog work pushed aside other writing that I wanted to do. 

A couple of years ago, I switched to every other week. I told my subscribers. Nobody complained. I suspect that most people didn’t notice. 

This schedule (usually) gives me time to put together a thoughtful post. 

If you want to blog every day, go for it. It’s more important to me that I write every day than that I publish every day. That leads to the next point.

Set small minimum goals

Whether you’re writing a journal or publishing a blog, there are days you’ll want to say Nah, I’ve got nothing. I’m too tired.

Challenge yourself to meet at least a small, minimum effort—say, five minutes. 

My voice teacher Julia Nielsen led a fantastic “How to Practice” seminar this summer, and referred to James Clear’s “Two Minute Rule” (from Atomic Habits*). She suggested that five minutes of warming up, mental singing, or repertoire study could count as practice.

The same thing applies to writing.

You can always find five minutes to tinker with the next blog post, write in your journal, or revise your manuscript in progress.

It may not be the hours that you envision being necessary. But you’re still writing, reinforcing the habit, reminding yourself and the universe that you are a writer.

Good ideas may appear in those five minutes. 

Even showing up for a short time, you feed the background mental systems (the Muse) that are critical to creativity.

The Muse isn’t greedy. Give it five minutes here and there, and it might deliver.

Don’t confuse consistency with perfection

I subscribe to David Gaughran’s author newsletter. His most recent email had the subject line “I’m alive!” 

He’d dropped off to deal with some personal issues. And as much as I relish that newsletter, I hadn’t really noticed its absence. (Sorry, David!)

Was I upset? Indeed, no. He’s human. I’m human. I wish him well. (If you’re an indie author, subscribe to his newsletter.)

Sometimes you’ll miss that blog deadline. You’ll skip the journal entry.

Being consistent isn’t the same as being perfect. Life is messy.

Your blog readers will understand and forgive you. Forgive yourself. And then keep going.

* These are affiliate links; if you purchase the book through them, I will earn a small percentage, which I put toward buying more books for give-aways. It’s a virtuous cycle of sorts.

An email arrived in my inbox the other day with a beautiful video attached. It came from someone I did not know, inviting me to participate in an event.

Ordinarily, I would tag the email to read later in the day. (I try to “time-block” handling requests like this.) But the clip for the video was beautiful and it made me curious. So I clicked the link and watched it, smiling with pleasure.

The video accomplished several things better than a simple, text-only email could:

• It caught my attention. I answered the email right away.
• I got a better idea of the sender (Marina Tselner, a creative, positive visual artist).
• Watching it established an immediate sense of connection with the sender.

That was a lesson in the power of video, combined with email.

Later that day, I was recording the audiobook files for 33 Ways Not to Screw Up Your Business Emails. I infused the text with lively intonation and expression. I hope the listeners will hear the smiles.

Narrating made me think again about the limitations of print. Readers must supply their own tone of voice.

Another lesson, this time on the power of audio.

A word-person like myself doesn’t like to admit this: Sometimes, words alone are not enough.

Tone is tricky

As readers, we aren’t great at interpreting a writer’s tone. 

We only have the print on the page, without body language or vocal inflections. We read through the lens of our current mood and what we know about the writer. So, we misinterpret tone easily.

​​A study published in the Journal of Personality and Social Psychology suggests that people misinterpret the tone of emails about half the time. 

Half the time!

As a writer, you can take steps to make sure people understand your meaning.

• Write with clarity and care
• Avoid sarcasm (extremely tone-dependent)
• Use emojis and punctuation to point at the right tone
• Use stage directions to add tone and humor [wink, wink]

Even then, some readers won’t respond as you hope.

We all swim in a sea of words. Voice or video clips can elevate your message.

Boost your words with voice or video

My son Mark introduced me to Loom—an app that creates quick screen share and/or talking head videos. 

He uses it when providing feedback to people. (You want to set the right tone when giving feedback so that it lands well with the recipient.)

I’ve used it to explain how to do something on Amazon. Describing online processes takes time and effort. It’s easier to record and narrate what you’re doing so the recipient can watch, pause, and follow.

Audio-only clips also make an impact. Hearing someone’s voice asking a question increases my sense of urgency about answering.

When my words need a little extra support, I’m going to think about adding my voice, or even my face and voice to emails, blog posts, social media posts and more, to help the message along.

Supplementing the written word

You may think: Who has time to listen to clips or watch videos? I hear you. I’d rather skim things at my own pace—it’s more efficient.

That’s why I suggest you combine writing with other things. Use the words to summarize what’s in the clip, or perhaps entice someone to watch or listen.

Attention is a scarce commodity. We must earn it. Sometimes, we do that best by showing up alongside our words, in audio or video.

Related Content

How to talk about tone, style, and voice in writing

What I learned about writing from narrating audiobooks

Print or audiobook? Yes, please!