I read a book last year called Eliza and Her Monsters by Francesca Zappia. If you haven't read it, I highly recommend doing so. It's an amazing story, and one that rings true with artists, especially. I'm not going to spoil anything, but to put it as simply and as vaguely as possible, toward the end of the story, the main character is in desperate need of inspiration. She finds herself unable to finish what she's started, and she doesn't know how to break out of it.

So she goes to her bookshelf and pulls down an old favorite series. It's the series that started her story, if you will.

She goes back to her roots.

She devours the books, and in the end, they were just what she needed. Reading that book during the midst of my own loss of creative expression and my ability to throw words on the page with reckless abandon, I wondered, what if Francesca Zappia was onto something here?

So I went to my own bookshelf and pulled down the books that started my story. The books that began my journey in finding my true writing voice.

For me, those books were the Percy Jackson series. The series greatly influenced me when I was a young writer. I read them when I was twelve/thirteen years old (I think--it's been so long now I'm not 100% sure) and it revolutionized the way I told stories. Suddenly, I understood what voice was. Not in a way that I could explain to other people, but from reading Rick Riordan's work, I was taught many things about the art of writing that I'd never before understood.

I re-read the series for the first time in many years just last week (right after finishing up finals and coming home from school) and I was floored by the experience. There were passages that sunk into my being as I read them because I remembered them so clearly, and I remembered what I felt and thought when reading them. I remembered certain things I myself wrote after reading his books that were directly inspired by him. After reading that series, my writing sounded like a bad ripoff of Rick Riordan.

But then, that began to change.

I read other books, and their voices impacted me. But I clung to Rick Riordan's way of storytelling. I understood the power of a witty, sarcastic, funny narrator, and even in my darkest stories, I can see the touch of humor in the voices of my characters that he inspired in me. He taught me to find light in the darkest of stories and in the most hopeless moments.

There are so many little things I noticed while re-reading, and I would love to list them all. But that's not the point I'm trying to make with this post. The point I'm trying to make is that going back to your roots, reaching back for what got you started in the first place ... that's not backtracking. That's not being weak because you have to lean on where you started. It's not losing progress.

It's a reminder.

It's a reminder of who you were, and who you've become. It's a reminder of why you started, of where you went, and of why you fell in love.

And when you've been doing and trying for so long, a reminder like that is insanely powerful. I'm not saying it will fix everything. I'm not suddenly a powerful writing machine once more, like I was when I was sixteen. But I am saying that I'm better than I was a month ago, and I'm more determined than ever.

Sometimes determination is all you need to get going again.


I hope this gave you a bit of hope today, and inspired you to reach back to your roots if you've lost your way in recent years. But talk to me! What books inspired you to write? Where did you learn about the craft of writing, and what examples have shaped your writing voice? I can't wait to hear from you guys!

What exactly is a drought? Or, in writer lingo, a creative dry season?

There are many definitions, and many aspects of a dry season, but for this post I'm going to assign writing dryness a simple definition.

No motivation. 

When you're in a dry season, you have no motivation to do anything. You might want to do something. You might want to write that blog post or edit that chapter, but when you sit down you just ... can't. It's like someone's stacked bricks on your arms and locked your brain in a closet under your grandmother's staircase. You want to work in a logical sense, but your spirit just isn't there. Your spirit wants to watch Netflix for three hours or curl up and sleep. Or read that book that's been on your shelf since last April. Or play Settlers of Catan with your little siblings. Or--

You get the point. When you're in a dry season, anything looks better than writing. Writing, which was once this glamorous, enticing escape from the monotonous reality we all live in, is now something you dread. It's something you try to avoid thinking about, and quite possibly hide from.

And sometimes it's something you don't think about at all, and it's not intentional. That's almost worse than avoiding it on purpose. Because you can't help it if you don't consciously think about your book often. You can go days--weeks, even--without your characters coming to mind even once, and then before you realize it, it's been a month since you even touched your third draft.

Anyone relate?

I lasted a long time before hitting major dry seasons, and I think there's a reason for that. We all write because we love it and like doing it, to some extent. But there comes a point in every writer's journey when the like of writing, the desire for it, the drive to do edits and make your mess of a novel a masterpiece becomes ... work.

Because, to some extent, that's what writing is for us writers. If you're in it for the long haul, if you're serious about your writing, if you want to craft a good story ... then it's going to take work.

And sometimes, work just isn't fun.

I don't have the answers. If I'm being honest with you all, I'm still in this dry season. I haven't touched my edits in exactly a week. Two years ago, that would never have happened. But nowadays, it's a common occurrence.

Now. Am I just trying to drudge up unpleasant facts, or is there a point to what I'm saying?

There is a point, believe it or not. The point is this: if you acknowledge that writing is hard, and that writing takes work, you won't be taken by surprise when it begins to feel like it. You won't be taken by the fear that you're doing something wrong, that you've messed up somehow because this isn't what you signed up for. You'll be ready to tackle that dry period with determination.

We'll talk more next week on what that looks like. But for now, I want you to think about your writing routines. What do you do when sitting down to write or edit? What do you think about to get yourself in the zone? How do you approach writing, and what makes you stick with a project?

I'll see you next week!