Skip to main content

Writing Guilt and Other Creative Crimes I’ve Committed

There’s a new ailment going around the creative world, and it’s highly contagious. Symptoms include staring at your unfinished manuscript, sighing heavily, and mumbling something like, “I should be writing.” Yes, my friends, I’m talking about writing guilt—and though I hadn’t heard of it until recently, I seem to have earned an honorary PhD in the subject.

Here's what happened....

A little while ago, I had a solo art show. One entire gallery. My artwork. My setup. My everything. It sounds glamorous, right? Cue the applause, the soft lighting, the elegant hors d’oeuvres—except, behind the scenes, it’s less “artistic reverie” and more “running a small logistics company while trying to look charming in public.”

I was the planner, the promoter, the installer, the social butterfly. It was exhilarating… and exhausting.

And right in the middle of it all—between hanging canvases and smiling through small talk—this tiny voice piped up in my head:
“You haven’t written your 1,000 words today.”

Excuse me? I’m knee-deep in bubble wrap and self-doubt, and now I’m supposed to feel bad about not writing? Can we please take a collective moment for this level of unhinged insanity?

I mean, sure—planning is great. I love a plan. I make lists so detailed they could qualify as architectural blueprints. But sometimes, life swirls into a beautiful, messy chaos of creativity that doesn’t fit into a tidy writing schedule.

And when that happens, here’s what I’ve learned: you cannot guilt your way to creativity.

Oh, I’ve tried. I’ve sat myself down, wagged my metaphorical finger, and demanded: “You WILL write those 1,000 words, missy!” You know what happens next? My brain, like a stubborn teenager, crosses its arms and refuses to cooperate.

Because creativity doesn’t thrive on guilt—it thrives on grace.

Grace for the days when your art show or day job or life just is. Grace for the times when you need to fill your well instead of your word count. Grace for knowing that your creative self is always working, even when you’re not sitting at your desk.

We’d never treat our friends this way. We wouldn’t say, “You failed to bake cookies today, so clearly you’re not a real baker.” Or, “You didn’t go jogging, so I guess you’ve given up on fitness forever.”

Yet somehow, we do it to ourselves as writers and artists.

So here’s to taking a deep breath. Here’s to reminding ourselves that rest, joy, and other passions fuel the writing, not derail it.

And the next time you’re standing in your own whirlwind—whether that’s an art show, a work deadline, or just a day that doesn’t go to plan—remember: your creativity doesn’t need a stopwatch. It needs compassion.

Grace. Your creativity lives on it.

Now excuse me—I’m off to not feel guilty about watching a movie with Blueberry, my Papillon muse, who insists that downtime is just another form of inspiration.

Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The Encyclopedia Was Our Google — And Dad Was Our Search Engine

You know you’re not a digital native when the word “research” makes you smell paper and hear the satisfying thud of a heavy book landing on a table. Welcome to my childhood, where curiosity was rewarded not with Wi-Fi, but with a stack of alphabetically-organized mystery bricks called encyclopedias . Let me take you back. The year? Somewhere in the analog era. The place? Our living room, where we had the entire Bertelsmann encyclopedia collection proudly displayed like it was the crown jewel of human knowledge. We didn’t just own knowledge—we subscribed to it. One glorious volume arrived each month, like an academic advent calendar for nerdy children. Volume “A” to “Z,” with deep sighs of longing in between. I swear, I still remember the day Volume “P” arrived. I rushed to the mailbox like I was expecting a letter from a secret admirer. Nope. Just got the lowdown on Photosynthesis and Peru. But did that stop me from doing a dramatic reading of it over dinner? No, it did not. M...
Post a Comment
Read more

The Glamorous Life of a Writer (Or, Mostly Just Staring at a Screen)

There’s a persistent rumor floating around that writers live thrilling, adventure-filled lives. Perhaps it’s all the dramatic author portraits on book jackets—moody, windswept, staring off into the distance as if contemplating the fate of the world. Perhaps it’s the movies, where writers are always dashing off to Paris to write the next great novel in a charming café (suspiciously never interrupted by spotty Wi-Fi or overpriced croissants). I hate to break it to you, but real writing? Not quite so cinematic. In reality, my writing days mostly involve staring intensely at my screen, willing the words to appear through sheer force of will. Occasionally, I engage in deep philosophical debates with myself—such as whether my protagonist should turn left or right down a hallway (the fate of the fictional world depends on it). And let’s not forget the highly intellectual process of naming characters, which can take hours because somehow every single name I think of is either the name of ...
Post a Comment
Read more

The Absolute Madness of Naming Characters

  Let’s talk about one of the most ridiculous struggles of writing a book. No, I’m not talking about the part where you stare at the blinking cursor like it personally insulted your ancestors. I’m talking about naming characters. It should be easy, right? Just slap a name on them and move on? Oh, my sweet summer child. If only. See, naming a character is like naming your kid—except worse, because nobody is going to complain if your kid and their cousin both end up being named Liam. But if your main villain is named Liam and you accidentally give the quirky coffee shop owner in book three the same name? Cue the existential crisis. Let’s walk through the madness. The Overthinking Spiral of Doom You start writing, and there’s that moment: your brand-new character walks onto the page, full of potential. All they need is a name. A simple name. Something strong, something fitting, something— Oh no. Nothing sounds right. This one is too complicated. That one is too simple. ...
Post a Comment
Read more