I bought into the "you must write every day" narrative for the first half of my writing career, until it just stopped making sense … for me.
If there’s one thing I’ve come to understand over the past few years, it’s that we are wildly different as people. Yes, we can find connecting threads, moments of overlap, and shared experiences. But rarely do blanket tips or one-size-fits-all advice land the same way for everyone, or at the same time. And this is okay.
My own shift away from the “write every day” advice came from deep, lived experience, and from really looking at what writing was becoming for me. Sure, I'm publishing books, but writing for me is about more than that, and I'm finally in a place to explore the more.
I'm not in the business of convincing anyone. I literally say this when I'm in calls with folks. I know what has worked for me, and just as importantly, I know what hasn’t. To genuinely help other creatives expand their sense of what’s possible, I’ve learned I need to stay curious about who they are. I have to ask real questions about their lives. I have to listen with my whole body. And that takes time, creative experiments, and dare I say ... love.
This past weekend in the Forever Writers Club, we held two truly special sessions: our seasonal Say No With Love Deepening Session and our monthly Writing the Self Session. What emerged from both was pretty darn personal. We did some writing, but it wasn't all about that. It was about how deeply we connected as very different people living very different lives.
We came with different stories, different energies, different needs, different stressors, different pains. And simply by listening to one another, we became better writers right there in that room, in that moment. No one mentioned word counts.
Now, don’t get me wrong, y'all—word counts have their place. Progress matters. But how we nourish the vessel that does the work? That’s even more pivotal.
When I redefined what writing could look like for me, that’s when the pressure to “write daily” lost its grip on me. You’ve heard me go on about the various phases of writing, and why breaking them down matters. These days, I start by asking myself: What phase am I in today? Sometimes, it means sitting in a circle with other creatives and talking about what’s shifting in our lives.
And from that, believe it or not, the writing, the actual drafting, happens. Naturally. Without force. Without feeling separate from the rest of my life.
Yesterday morning, I opened the draft of my next novel for the first time in months. I revised a chapter. I felt clear. I wasn’t weighed down by the stress I’ve been carrying although it was still there sitting on my shoulder, because I’ve been tending to it in small, deliberate ways all week. I know how to turn the volume down. And I have every right to do that.
So do you.
I'm connected to this book in a way I simply wasn’t a year ago. I’ve probably written no more than 2,000 words, but who’s counting? 😉
Reflect + Rewrite
This Week's Reflection Question: What would your creative practice look like if it honoured your current season of life, instead of trying to push through it?
After answering the reflection question, revisit what you wrote.
Is there a single line—just one—that surprised you?
Maybe it stirred something. Maybe it made you pause.
Copy that line out. Sit with it.
As always, if you feel called, I’d love to see it. Hit reply and share it with me.
See you next week! If this letter moved you in some way, please forward it to a friend.
with love, Chelene
Founder, Breathing Space Creative
Want to explore more of my work? I offer bespoke writing mentorships, creative support calls, and free creative resources through my studio. But for now, just take what you need. I’ll be here.
