Tag Archives: #writingpractice

How to Conjure and Nurture an Enduring Writing Practice as a Neurodivergent

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Photo by Ivan Samkov: https://www.pexels.com/photo/photo-of-woman-taking-notes-4458554/

Writing is a kind of magic. And for those of us with neurodivergent minds—brilliant, nonlinear, wired for deep perception—the path to a lasting writing practice isn’t paved with rigid schedules or color-coded planners (unless, of course, we love those things). It’s built on ritual, rhythm, desire, and deep self-trust.

If you’ve struggled with consistency, battled internalized shame, or found that typical writing advice just doesn’t fit, this post is your encouragement to conjure a practice that honors the way you move through the world.

1. Craft Ritual, Not Routine

Routine can feel like a cage. But ritual? Ritual is sacred. Ritual is spellwork.

Instead of forcing yourself to write at 8 a.m. sharp each day, create a writing portal you want to step into. Light a candle. Burn a sprig of rosemary. Put on music that transports you. Sip something warm and grounding. Let these sensory cues open the door between your everyday mind and your storytelling self.

Your ritual might take five minutes or thirty. The point is to enchant the beginning, not white-knuckle your way into it.

2. Know Your Rhythms—and Honor Them

Neurodivergent brains often move in rhythms that defy the nine-to-five, hustle-culture model of productivity. You might have creative bursts at night, or hyperfocus windows that last hours—and then crash. This isn’t brokenness. It’s brilliance.

Track your natural creative cycles. When do ideas arrive easily? When does your brain feel foggy or shut down? Design your writing practice around these patterns, not someone else’s blueprint.

3. Let Desire Lead You

Discipline isn’t the only engine. In fact, it’s often the wrong one for neurodivergent creatives.

Desire, curiosity, fascination—these are far more sustainable fuels. What story won’t leave you alone? What character whispers in your ear while you’re trying to sleep? Follow that shimmer.

Write what you can’t not write. The practice will become self-sustaining.

4. Build a Gentle Container

You don’t have to go it alone. In fact, many neurodivergent writers thrive with compassionate accountability—whether through a writing buddy, a cozy online group, or a creative coach who understands your brain.

But let the container be soft. Flexible. Consent-based.

Instead of “I have to write 1,000 words every day,” try “I’ll check in with my creative self every day and ask what it needs.”

5. Make Room for the Ebbs

There will be times when your brain is foggy, your body is heavy, and writing feels impossibly far away. These moments aren’t failures. They’re part of the creative cycle.

Create a “low-spoons” version of your practice: rereading a scene, jotting down one sentence, doing research, even just thinking about your story while walking. That is writing. Trust that rest and slowness are fertile ground.

6. Celebrate Invisible Progress

Not all writing looks like pages produced.

Sometimes it looks like solving a plot problem in the shower. Or finding the perfect word days after you needed it. Or just sitting down and trying, even when it’s hard.

Neurodivergent brains do a lot of internal processing. Respect the unseen. Celebrate the almosts. You’re building something, even when it doesn’t look like progress.

7. Reclaim Writing as Spellwork

For many of us, writing is more than craft. It’s reclamation. Resistance. A way to speak after being silenced.

Your perspective—sensory, spiraling, richly detailed, intensely felt—is needed in the world. Write in the voice that is most you. Tell the stories only you can tell.

Let your writing practice become a ritual of return. A spell of becoming. A homecoming.

Final Thoughts

There’s no one right way to be a writer—especially not for neurodivergent folks. The key is to conjure a practice that honors your magic and nurture it with patience, joy, and love.

Because remember what I always say…
Honoring your impulse to write is an act of self-love.

You don’t have to write every day. You don’t have to write the “right” way. You only have to find what works for you—and then let it evolve as you do.

You’re not too much. You’re not not enough. You’re exactly the right kind of untamed magic.

Sending you mad writing mojo…

Happy writing!

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When the Land Chooses You: How Setting Shapes Story

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Image by SK_Zurcher from Pixabay

When it comes to writing fiction, we often talk about character, plot, or even theme as the building blocks of a story. But one of the most potent elements, sometimes overlooked or taken for granted, is setting.

Setting isn’t just a backdrop. It’s a container, a mirror, a source of conflict and transformation. Sometimes, you don’t choose a setting. It chooses you.

That’s what happened with Miranda’s Garden.

A Landscape That Lived in Me

I lived in Colorado for 16 years, and it will forever have my heart. The jagged majesty of the Rockies. The ever-present sunshine that lights up even the coldest days. The towering Douglas firs and whispering aspens. These weren’t just fond memories—they were emotional, spiritual truths. They became the soil from which Miranda’s story grew.

Nature is more than scenery in this novel. It’s a character. The forest around Miranda’s cabin is a place of solace, healing, and quiet power. The act of tending a mountain garden—difficult, unpredictable, and deeply rewarding—mirrors Miranda’s own inner work.

Nearby Locations With Symbolic Weight

Though the story is set primarily in the mountains, just outside a small mountain community, nearby places enrich the world:

Boulder – Just down the canyon from Miranda’s cabin, it offers glimpses of a busier life she’s left behind, and a future location for something new (stay tuned for the sequel!).

Denver – The bustle and complexity of city life contrast Miranda’s isolation and simplicity, and a way to put readers in the story who know the area well.

Tattered Cover Bookstore – A sacred space for book lovers (like Miranda and me), and a location where something magical happens.

Estes Park—A place for Miranda to delve even deeper into nature and meet a surprising group of hikers, who leave her with an important wish for herself.

Red Rocks Amphitheater – A place of transformation and magic in the story—and one of my favorite real-world locations.

Symbolism in the Land Itself

One reason I chose the Rockies for Miranda’s Garden is because the land itself tells a layered story.

The Rockies were formed over millions of years—from the Laramide Orogeny through the Ice Ages. That geological layering fascinated me—and it also reflected Miranda’s emotional complexity. She’s a woman of many layers, too. The setting became a symbol for that depth.

A Relationship That Continues

Setting isn’t static. It evolves in the writer’s relationship with it.

In the early stages of writing the first draft, I returned to Colorado to reconnect with the terrain. To walk the trails. To listen to the wind through the aspens. That trip reminded me of the textures and sounds I wanted to infuse into the story.

And I’ll return again—during a future book tour, and when I begin writing the sequel (which is already starting to take root in me).

Inherent Tension = Natural Metaphor

Gardening in the Rockies is no small feat. The soil is rocky. The growing season is short. Success takes specialized knowledge, persistence, and, sometimes, a bit of magic.

That natural tension makes it a perfect metaphor for Miranda’s inner life. Her transformation is slow, hard-won, and beautiful.

Questions for You

What places have you lived that became part of who you are?
What places do you most like to write about—and why?

The setting you choose (or that chooses you) might be more than just a place on the map. It might be the heart of your story.

Want more help writing setting? Check out my new digital flip book: What You Need to Know About Setting to Write Good Fiction

How Where You Live Impacts Your Writing Practice

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Photo by Valentin Antonucci: https://www.pexels.com/photo/person-tossing-globe-1275393/

Where we write shapes what we write. And often, how we write. The space we inhabit—its rhythms, energies, and surroundings—can either nourish or disrupt our creative flow. As writers, we don’t just work from our minds or hearts. We work from the ground beneath our feet, the sky above our heads, and everything in between.

Let’s explore how the place you call home weaves itself into your writing practice.

Geography Shapes Your Mood

Are you near a wild forest, a roaring ocean, a sprawling desert, or tucked into a city that never sleeps?

Your natural environment leaves fingerprints on your inner life. A misty morning in the Pacific Northwest might call up introspection and melancholy prose, while bright, dry light in the Southwest could ignite a crisp, clear voice. The ever-changing sky, the scent of the air, the texture of the landscape—these all become part of your writing palette.

Pay attention to how your surroundings influence the emotional tone of your work.

Rhythm of Life: Fast or Slow?

The pace of the world outside your door often becomes the pace of your days.

In rural settings, time may stretch. There’s quiet between tasks, longer pauses, more room to meander. In cities, there’s movement, urgency, sound. This doesn’t make one better than the other—some writers thrive on stillness, others on the energy of bustle and chaos. What matters is whether your environment aligns with the kind of writer you are, or want to be.

Does the tempo of your city or town support your natural creative rhythm—or push against it?

Your Writing Space as a Mirror

Whether you have a room of your own or a corner of the kitchen table, your physical space affects your focus and sense of self as a writer.

Clutter may drain you. Beauty may feed you. Even something as simple as lighting a candle or playing soft music can shift your inner atmosphere and make space for words to emerge.

Ask yourself: what’s one small change I could make to my space that would help me show up more fully to the page?

Community and Creative Energy

Does your city or town have a vibrant writing community—or are you building your practice in solitude?

Living near bookstores, workshops, or other writers can feed your sense of belonging and inspiration. But not everyone has access to that. If you’re in a more isolated place, you might need to create your own writing coven—whether through online communities, virtual writing groups, or long-distance writing dates.

Writers need each other. If your current location doesn’t offer that easily, you’re not alone—but you may need to be more intentional in seeking connection.

Land, Energy, and Spirit

This might be the most subtle—and powerful—aspect of place.

Some lands are rich with creative energy. Others resist it. The energetic imprint of a place—its history, ancestors, spirits, or even trauma—can either open or block creative flow.

If the land you live on doesn’t feel like it’s supporting your writing, consider ways to enter into relationship with it. Walk it. Listen to it. Leave offerings. Ask permission. Speak your intentions. Writing is an act of co-creation—with your inner self, and with the world around you.

Routine Is Shaped by Place

Where you live impacts how you structure your days. A long commute might drain your energy. Living near a park might give you access to restorative walks. Harsh winters might make you hibernate—and write more. Or less.

Notice how the structure of your days is shaped by your location—and how you might gently reshape it to create more time, space, or stillness for writing.

The Impact of Travel and Relocation

Sometimes, it’s only when we leave a place that we see its grip on us. Travel, even temporarily, can reset your writing voice. New air, new sounds, new textures—they can wake up a sleepy muse.

Likewise, moving to a new home space—whether eagerly or reluctantly—can bring a whole new energy to your writing life. It can disrupt your routines… but also invite you to rebuild them more intentionally.

Writing the Place You Live

Where you live might end up inside your stories, too. Your place can become a character—a living, breathing presence on the page.

Even if you’re not setting your story locally, the texture of your environment often seeps into your metaphors, your pacing, your dialogue.

Let yourself be influenced. Let yourself notice.

Longing for Elsewhere

Sometimes, the place you live isn’t your creative home.

That’s okay.

You can still write. You can still thrive. Writing becomes the bridge between where you are and where your spirit wants to be. You can conjure other worlds, craft alternate lives, or simply create a sacred writing space that feels like your truest home—even if it’s just a small desk in the corner of an apartment that doesn’t quite fit.

Writing allows you to live many lives. Use it.

Conjure a Writing Practice, Wherever You Are

Even if you can’t change your address, you can change your relationship to place.

Create rituals. Build an altar. Carry a notebook outside. Write in bed. Light incense. Find a favorite tree. Your writing practice can become an act of grounding, of claiming space, of weaving your soul into the land you’re on—even if it’s just for now.

Where you live matters. But it doesn’t have to define you. You can write with your place, through your place, or in spite of your place.

The key is to notice. To listen. And to shape your writing life intentionally, rooted in the real magic of where you are.

Want help tuning your writing practice to your current environment? Drop a comment or come join me in the Alchemy of Writing Membership Group—where we explore the craft, ritual, and rhythm of the writing life together.

Inclusive Writing—Crafting Fiction that Welcomes Everyone

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Photo by Alexander Suhorucov – Pexels

In the writing world, inclusivity is more than just a trend. It’s a necessity, and especially considering the current political climate we’re faced with. As writers, it’s important to give serious thought to what we bring to the world through our words. Because words have power and the effects of our stories can be far-reaching.

Creating stories that reflect our diverse world and offering readers from all backgrounds the opportunity to see themselves on the page is essential to evolving as storytellers so we can do our part to make the world a better place. But what does inclusive writing mean, and why does it matter? Let’s take a look at the principles of inclusive writing, why it’s essential, and how you can integrate it into your work.

What Is Inclusive Writing?

Inclusive writing is the practice of consciously crafting language, characters, and narratives that represent a broad spectrum of human experiences. It seeks to avoid biases, stereotypes, and exclusion while representing different identities, abilities, cultures, and perspectives with accuracy and respect.

This approach, of course, applies across various forms of writing, from fiction and nonfiction to marketing materials and academic writing. At its core, inclusive writing is about being intentional and thoughtful in the words you choose and the stories you tell. For this post, the focus is on fiction.

Some key aspects of inclusive writing include:

Diverse Character Representation—Creating characters from different racial, ethnic, gender, and ability backgrounds without reducing them to stereotypes. 

Respectful Language—Using words that align with how groups self-identify and avoiding outdated or offensive phrasing.

Accessibility Considerations—Taking care to use language that is clear, readable, and available in formats that accommodate people with disabilities.

Avoidance of Harmful Tropes—Steering clear of clichés or oversimplified portrayals that misrepresent or diminish certain groups.

Why Inclusive Writing Matters

Political correctness, respect, and compassion are only part of the reason behind the need for inclusive writing. It’s also about authenticity and responsibility. Inclusive writing strives to do the following:

Reflect the Real World

The world is diverse, so the stories we tell should be too. Readers connect deeply with stories that acknowledge and celebrate different identities, experiences, and perspectives, especially when they see and live them every day, whether through their own lived experience or in the experiences of those around them.

Encourage Empathy and Understanding

Stories have the power to shape perceptions. When readers encounter characters and narratives that differ from their own experiences, they’re presented with an opportunity to learn and develop a greater understanding of others.

Create a Wider Audience

Writing inclusively broadens your readership. When people see themselves accurately and respectfully depicted on the page, they are more likely to engage with and share your work.

Challenge Harmful Norms

Literature has historically been shaped by dominant narratives that exclude or misrepresent marginalized groups. Inclusive writing helps to dismantle these outdated perspectives and structures and push for more equitable storytelling.

Enhance Creativity

A commitment to inclusivity encourages richer, more complex storytelling, which will both push you as a writer and make your stories better. It will also allow you to explore new perspectives, settings, and conflicts that you might otherwise overlook.

Examples of Inclusive Writing

To put these principles into action, here are several ways to make your writing more inclusive:

Use Gender-Neutral Language

Instead of defaulting to masculine terms, opt for gender-neutral alternatives.

Instead of Mankind, use Humanity or Humankind

Instead of Chairman, use Chairperson or Chairwoman

Instead of He or she, use They (when applicable)

Develop Well-Rounded Characters

Avoid tokenism by ensuring that diverse characters have depth and agency. A character’s identity should be an integral part of who they are, but not their only defining trait.

Example: Instead of a one-dimensional LGBTQ+ character whose entire personality revolves around that identity, create a fully fleshed-out individual with hobbies, relationships, and personal struggles beyond their sexuality or gender identity.

Example: Instead of a flat, cardboard character of color who serves only as support to enhance the white protagonist’s quest, write them as a well-rounded human being with capabilities, likes and dislikes, and desires found in anyone, and give them equal time, energy, and importance in the story and its outcome.

Be Mindful of Cultural Representation

When writing about cultures different from your own, research thoroughly and avoid exoticizing or appropriating elements without understanding their significance.

Example: Instead of depicting an Indigenous character as a mystical guide, explore the nuances of their lived experiences and traditions with depth and accuracy.

Example: Rather than leaning on stereotypes, put characters of cultural backgrounds different from your own in real scenarios—a Latina character pursuing a cure for a disease while attempting to maintain difficult family ties, a Black character as a successful entrepreneur with a case of imposter syndrome, or an Asian character pursuing a career as a ballerina who also has a chronic illness.

Represent Disabilities Accurately and Respectfully

Characters with disabilities should not be defined solely by their conditions, nor should they be used as inspirational props.

Example: Instead of portraying a blind character as having “superhuman” hearing, depict them as an individual navigating the world in a way that aligns with real-life experiences.

Example: Rather than write a storyline wherein a disabled character “overcomes” their disability to be “normal,” write a story showing the character’s perseverance in getting the accommodations they deserve, with the world bending to meet them, rather than them being required to “fit in,” or a storyline of a sought-after attorney who requires a wheelchair, with the story being about their expertise and success in winning cases, not about their physical ability.

Avoid Harmful Tropes and Stereotypes

Be conscious of overused and damaging portrayals of marginalized groups. Some common pitfalls to avoid include:

The “tragic queer” trope (where LGBTQ+ characters are doomed to suffer or die)

The “magical minority” (where a character of color exists only to guide the white protagonist)

The “inspiration porn” approach to disability (where a disabled character exists solely to inspire able-bodied characters)

Final Thoughts

Inclusive writing is an ongoing process of learning, unlearning, and refining your craft. It requires openness, research, and a willingness to engage with feedback. By striving for inclusivity, writers can contribute to a literary world where more people feel seen, valued, and understood.

Whether you’re writing a novel, a short story, or a screenplay, taking the time to consider inclusivity improves your work and helps you create stories that resonate with a diverse and evolving readership. Start small, stay curious, and keep learning. Your words have the power to shape a more inclusive world.

Help me build a list of novels that clearly include inclusivity. Tell me in the comments!

Sending you mad writing mojo…

Happy writing!

Writing Through the Storm: Maintaining a Writing Practice with Chronic Illness

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Photo by Marcus Aurelius

Maintaining a satisfying writing practice requires focus, energy, and consistency—qualities that chronic illness often disrupts. But, with the right strategies and perspectives, it’s possible to honor your impulse to write while tending to your body’s needs.

I can speak to this from personal experience because I live with Mast Cell Activation Syndrome (MCAS), so I’m no stranger to the potential tough days that hover on the periphery of my life, my writing practice, and my business every single day, like a bully waiting to have a go at my weak spots. 

While I can’t say that I’ve found a magic solution—at least not yet—here are some strategies and perspectives to help you navigate the unpredictable nature of chronic illness while still honoring your writing practice.

1. Redefine Productivity

Having a chronic illness will force you to adjust your expectations—about your own abilities, about other people’s expectations of you, and about what “productive” looks like for you. Writing every day for hours—or every day, period—may not be realistic, and that’s okay. Instead, focus on what you can do. Whether it’s writing for 5-15 minutes each day, writing for a couple of hours one day each week, or simply jotting down ideas when they come to you, every effort counts. Remember, progress doesn’t have to be linear.

2. Create a Flexible Routine

Rigid schedules often don’t work well when dealing with the symptoms or flare-ups of chronic illness. Instead, build a flexible routine. Leave more open space in your calendar to allow for those “surprises.” Slow down the pace of your life, in general. Identify the times of day when you feel most energetic and aim to write during those windows. On tougher days, give yourself permission to shift to less demanding creative tasks, like brainstorming, researching, or reading for inspiration. And rest. Sometimes it’s best to simply rest.

3. Set Tiny, Achievable Goals

When you’re managing limited energy and avoiding triggers, big goals can feel overwhelming. And not meeting them can be demoralizing. Best approach: Put that big goal on your calendar, way out into the future. Then, break it down into small, manageable steps, and put those on your calendar, too. For example, set smaller breadcrumb goals, like 100 words, one scene or outline, or one dialogue exchange. Reaching and acknowledging those smaller goals that rest within the larger ones will send dopamine cascading through your lovely brain, which will provide you the motivation to keep going.

4. Manage Your Environment

For people with chronic illness, environmental triggers like certain foods, fragrances, or temperature changes can impact health and energy levels. Create a writing space that minimizes these risks. If you need to, get an air purifier, use hypoallergenic materials, and a stash of safe, healthy, non-reactive snacks and drinks to keep your energy up while writing. Do this, at the very least, in your writing space, and preferably throughout your entire home. If you live with other people, ask for what you need from them. 

5. Use Tools and Technology

Assistive tools can make writing more accessible. If you’re having a low day but feel you have the energy and wherewithal to accomplish small tasks, speak your thoughts and words instead of typing or writing by hand. Writing apps like Scrivener or Evernote can help you organize ideas efficiently, or use the Voice Memos on your phone to get random thoughts and ideas about a scene, chapter, or character in one place so you can refer to them later. If brain fog is a challenge, try using templates or prompts to find your way in. Writing can look many ways.

6. Embrace the Power of Rest

Rest isn’t just a break from writing; it’s an important and essential part of the creative process. (That’s why I offer the Do Nothing Challenge!) Pushing through exhaustion often leads to burnout or worsening symptoms. Instead, listen to your body and give it the care it needs. Resting mindfully, daydreaming, soaking in an epsom salts bath, or applying ice packs can get you through rough spots to rejuvenate your energy and spark new ideas. Resting is an aspect of your writing life.

7. Build a Support System

If you don’t know other writers who understand the challenges of chronic illness (and bonus if you do!), look for groups that specialize in connecting people with chronic illness for encouragement and empathy. Sharing your experiences with others can make life feel a lot less isolating and lonely. You might be surprised how many writers you can find who also live with chronic illness—both are highly sensitive.

8. Work with Your Medical Team

If you’re managing a chronic illness and you have a solid medical team, they can be a big help by offering guidance on managing energy levels, avoiding flares, and maintaining concentration. Sometimes, adjustments to treatment plans can improve your ability to focus on creative work. Interestingly, a fair amount of doctors write fiction on the side, so if you have one or can find one, they’ll understand why your writing matters to you.

9. Practice Self-Compassion

It’s easy to feel frustrated when illness interrupts your writing, and during those times when you’re struggling to find you way back, guilt can set in. Remember that you’re doing the best you can under challenging circumstances. Be kind to yourself, and acknowledge the resilience it takes to keep creating despite the hurdles. Honoring your impulse to write is an act of self-love. So is showing yourself compassion and grace.

10. Celebrate Every Accomplishment

No matter how small, every word written is a reason to celebrate. Whether it’s finishing a paragraph, re-reading what you wrote last, or simply making a note about where you’ll pick up when you’re feeling better, tracking your efforts will keep you involved. Maintain a notebook or digital file to log your accomplishments, or as mentioned in #3 above, schedule them on a calendar. Then, treat yourself to something nice and/or fun, depending on the accomplishment and your budget, of course. You’ll get a double hit of dopamine—from finishing the task, followed by the enjoyment of your reward. Over time, these wins will remind you of your strength and progress, and each one will propel you on to the next.

Final Thoughts

Living with a chronic illness doesn’t mean you have to give up on your writing dreams. It means finding new ways to approach them, and being kind to yourself in the process. By adapting your practice to fit your health and working within your unique limitations, you can keep your creative spirit alive and thriving. Remember, your unique perspective as someone who navigates these challenges brings depth and authenticity to your writing. And that’s what the world needs.

Keep writing, even if it’s one word at a time. Because as Margaret Atwood once said, “A word after a word after a word is power.” 

You are a writer, no matter the pace.

Sending you mad writing mojo…

Happy writing!