Writing is a strange beast. Sometimes it comes so easily. The words flow.  The story pours perfectly onto the page. It feels like magic. Other times it’s a gruelling slog. And it changes from day to day. One day I am enthusiastic about it, powering through page after page, absolutely in love with what I’m producing. The next I struggle to put three words on paper. I’ve had a fair share of both recently as  I’ve been trying to hit a deadline, and it’s been making me think about what exactly keeps me writing, even when it’s tough.

Sometimes it’s purely because I love the story. Something about the idea captivates me and won’t let me put it away, no matter how bad the draft is currently, or how much work it needs to turn it into something that even remotely resembles a book. I love the idea I’m trying to convey. I love the story I’m telling. And I can’t let it gather dust in a corner.

Sometimes it’s because I can see where it’s going, what it can become. Even in the depths of the most intense edits, sometimes I’ll get a glimpse of what the book can be, what I can make of it, how good it could get if I keep working. Catching that flash of brilliance is a reminder of what I could achieve if I keep pushing through.

Sometimes it’s simply because I enjoy the act of writing. There’s something so calming, so powerful about pouring out thousands of words on a page and seeing them line up into something I could potentially share with other people. Good words, bad words, they’re all magical, and the feeling of writing them is amazing.

And sometimes, it’s all about being stubborn. I don’t feel the love for the story. I can’t see the progress. I don’t love writing that day. But I won’t give up, because I know that one bad day doesn’t mean that I’m not meant to be a writer, that I should down tools and leave. Because when it comes down to it, writing is an amazing thing. Bad day or good, I am a writer 

We all have a dream. Maybe even more than one. It’s bright, beautiful, fragile and precious. A dream that calls us to go out there and do amazing things. But it takes a lot of courage to share that dream with the world, to write that book, to make that music, draw that picture, create that thing that you dream about and long to do. Our dreams are magic, shining with hope and wide eyed wonder. We present them to the world with outstretched hands.

And then someone treads on them.

Usually, it’s not even intentional. It’s in a careless word, a throwaway phrase. ‘There’s no money in that’. ‘No one reads any more’. ‘How are you going to make a career out of that?’ Words that slip off the tongue smooth as oil, crushing our dreams, dimming the light somewhat. Doubts creep in around the edges. Maybe they’re right. Why are we bothering with this anyway? What if it doesn’t work, if people don’t like it, if we’re wasting all our time on something that will never see fruition? What if we never succeed?

Dreams are such fragile things.

We withdraw, hiding our dreams. They’re beautiful, but why should we share them and risk the slings and arrows of people who don’t believe in what we’re doing, what we’re creating? Why risk that dream being tarnished, risk being disillusioned, when you can keep it to yourself, perfect and whole in your imagination?

Because that’s not what dreams are for.

Dreams are fragile and bright and beautiful. But they are restless creatures. They drive us with a burning passion. If they didn’t, they would had faded a long time ago. Dreams are made to be followed. They urge us to take risks. We might fail. The naysayers might be right. But, then again, we might succeed. And oh what beautiful things might come if we dare to follow our dream.

Everyone has something to share with the world. Everyone has a dream to follow Judgement hurts. Words have a power people don’t realise. How many dreams have been crushed, lost because of harsh words and cold judgement? But we can’t let that stop us. Words hurt. But the judgement of others isn’t what decides whether we succeed or not. The only person who can decide that is ourselves. If you try, you may fail, but if you never try then you’ll never give yourself even the chance to succeed.

Every harsh word, every judgement of another’s dream is a blow. It dims the dream a little more each time, tarnishes the shine. But if no one dreams, no one dares to put themselves out there, to take a risk, to open their hearts to the world and create, to follow their dreams, no matter how impractical, where will beauty, magic, unique ideas and light come from? Dreams are impractical. But dreams have power. Follow your dreams. And tread softly. Because each of us treads on the dreams of other. And dreams are magic.

The title of this blog post comes from a beautiful short poem by W.B. Yeats called ‘The Clothes of Heaven’ which I highly recommend you check out. You can find the poem HERE.

Have you ever had days where you’ve planned your writing time out perfect around work. You’re going to utilize those evening hours to punch out some words. You’ve scheduled your day, cleared the time, found your favourite drink/soundtrack/blanket. Your novel is open on screen. And…nothing. No words, no inspiration, no motivation. Nothing. And all of a sudden there’s this intense urge to watch TV, take a nap, vacuum the house, or done of the other one hundred and one things that are not writing. If you’re anything like me, that’s probably happened a few too many times.

But I’ve found a little trick that really helps me: Start early.

By ‘start early’ I don’t mean you have to get up at four to write. (Unless that is when you get your writing done, in which case I salute you. You are a stronger writer than I.) I don’t even mean that you have to try and get everything written before midday to get it done at all. For most of us, that is never going to happen. Life is just too busy with work, school, and other obligations to give up precious daytime hours.

It’s not about getting it finished early. It’s about getting started.

One thing I’ve noticed about my motivation is that it’s easier to find it earlier in the day. No matter what kind of day I’m having, it’s easier to push myself to write in the morning, whether I feel like it or not. So use that. Getting something, anything written first thing in your day sets you up for a much better writing day all-round. Getting started for the day is the hardest part of anything, so it only makes sense to start at the time it’s easiest.

You don’t have to write much. Maybe just 100 words. Maybe edit 50. Maybe add 3 lines of dialogue. Even if you only have a moment, you can easily add a sentence to your novel. But you can’t just write a note for what you want to write later. You have to actually add something to your novel. Put some words in that document, no matter how few, and then go back to the rest of your day.

You’ve done the hard part. You’ve put your first words down for the day. Your brain is thinking about your book. All of a sudden that’s an important thing in your life again. It’ll hang in your subconscious while you’re working in the rest of your day, and when you come back in the evening, your book will be fresher in your mind. Maybe you’ve have some more ideas about where to go with your story. For me, I often find that as long as I’ve done something earlier in the day, it’s so much easier to engage with my book again in the evening when I’m tired and uninspired.

Alternatively, maybe you don’t feel inspired to write. Maybe those words still won’t come. However you did get a couple of sentences done earlier in the day. You’ve touched base with your novel. You’ve thought about it. You added to it. And in the end, whether you wrote a lot or a little, the fact that you wrote at all is what really counts.

In every creative person’s life, there comes a moment where you hate your work. Maybe you’ve felt this a few times before. I know I have. It’s that moment when you hate what you’ve made, you doubt that you’ve got what it takes, and when it feels like everything you make comes out as a pile of scrap. And maybe you just want to throw it all away. For me, this usually comes when I’m deep in edits, or when I’m stuck in an arrangement and I can’t find the right notes to go on. In that moment, we’re so ready to give up.

Please, don’t.

Yes, what you make isn’t perfect. The words you’ve written aren’t quite right. That’s ok. They’re not meant to be.

Yes, you’ve got a lot left to learn. You’re not a master yet. That’s ok. No one is.

Yes, you’re tired of looking at your work, judging it, hating it for its flaws and imperfections. That’s ok. Everyone judges their own work harshly.

Yes, you’re looking at the work someone else has made and it looks so much better than yours. That’s ok. Someone is looking at yours and wondering how you got to be so good.

You hate your work, because you’ve seen it so often. You’ve read every word a thousand times. You’ve struggled in the darkest hours of the night to find the right way to express the millions of thoughts that swirl in your head. You’ve been staring at those lines on a page, searching for the flaws until they’re all you see. You are so close to your work that you miss the beauty of your story in the details of commas. All you can remember are the problems, the imperfections, the wrongness. So that’s what you think all your work is.

Stop.

Take a step back.

Take a breath. Close your eyes.

Go away for a while. See something else. Go outside and see the trees. Sit in silence and hear music, birds, or the people around you.

Take some time away from what you’re working on. Maybe a few minutes, a few hours, days, or weeks even. However long you need. It’ll be waiting for you when you get back. Don’t give up. Just step back and let yourself forget for a little while. Come back with a fresh mind and a brighter outlook. Read it like a story, not an editing exercise. Your words have a beauty to them that you miss when you sit so close.

Your work has merit. Your work is valuable. Your work matters.

Maybe today you want to give up. But please, don’t. Because while you see the cracks in what you’re making, we see the glorious whole. And trust me, it is beautiful. It is worth it. You are worth it.

Please, never, ever give up.