Dearest Writer,
When I’m knee-deep in a messy first draft, and when the words aren’t quite landing, the plot feels wobbly, and my confidence is flickering…I suddenly become very productive…
In everything but writing.
I sign up for new volunteer roles. I say yes to more meetings. I decide this is the perfect time to start a reading challenge or brainstorm a brand-new book idea. I post more (or just scroll more) on social media. I take on projects that let me feel useful, competent, and visible. And I convince myself they're important, noble, even necessary.
And sure, sometimes they are. But most of the time they’re not. Most of the time, they’re a very sneaky form of avoidance.
Writing a book is lonely, invisible work. No one claps for a first draft. No one sees the hours we spend spinning in circles, doubting ourselves, wondering if we’re wasting our time. There’s no applause for the paragraphs we delete or the scenes we rewrite for the fifth time. And when I’m in that space, totally alone in my work, I crave validation. I want to be seen doing something. I want to feel like I’m accomplishing something concrete, something others will recognize.
But writing doesn’t always give me that. Not right away.
So I find myself taking on more. Filling my plate until there’s no room left for the thing I actually want (and need) to do.
If any of this sounds familiar, I want you to know you’re not alone.
It’s okay to crave connection. It’s okay to want to feel seen. And it’s okay to be afraid that the project you’re working on won’t live up to your hopes.
If this is you, ask yourself this: what might happen if you cleared some space? How would it feel to give your writing a little more room? What if being unseen for a while is actually part of the process—not a punishment, but a way to protect your project during the vulnerable part of drafting?
Your story deserves your time. Your first draft deserves your faith. You deserve the chance to go deep without the pressure to be constantly available, constantly impressive, constantly on.
So, if you find yourself pulled toward everything but your writing, consider this your gentle permission to pause. You don’t have to say yes to every request, every idea, every distraction. Sometimes the most powerful choice is to protect your creative space, even when no one else sees it. Your writing matters. Even (especially) in the quiet, unseen moments.
I’ll be over here cheering you on from the sidelines—right there with you saying no to the unnecessary in favor of finishing my novel.
Until the next chapter,
Crissi
P.S. Have you ever reorganized your closet, volunteered for a new committee, or started planning a completely unrelated book just to avoid your current WIP? Share your most ridiculous writing avoidance strategy so we can laugh about it together (and then get back to writing!)
Currently:
📖 Reading: My Dark Prince, by LJ Shen & Parker S. Huntington, and loving it!
🎧 Listening to: Bon Iver on repeat
✍️ Editing: Almost done moving The Jilted Lovers Club to a present tense POV!
☕ Mood: A little tender due to too many avoidance projects. But I’m working on it!
P.P.S. ARC reader signups have started for The Jilted Lovers Club. If you’d like to join the team and read this book FREE before anyone else, sign up here.