If you’re like me, your creative process might go something like this:
This is amazing.
This is harder than I thought.
This is terrible.
Maybe I’m terrible.
Wait… this might work.
This is amazing!
And then the whole cycle starts again, the muse and the monster.
The muse shows up with an amazing idea. Everything feels electric. Exciting.
Then, almost on cue, the monster arrives and tears it all down.
For me, it can be hard to get out of that loop. Because of it, I’ve abandoned projects, destroyed good writing, and lost my way more times than I’d like to admit.
One of the best ways I’ve found to break the cycle, though, and see my work more clearly, is to step outside of my comfort zone and find other writers.
I put myself in rooms where people are talking about stories, about craft, about ideas.
I attend writing conferences fairly regularly (I’m at one now as I write this!), but also take workshops, attend readings, join writing groups and accountability groups. At this point, I treat it as part of the job of being a writer because, for me, it is. Being in conversation with other writers helps me move my work forward, generate new ideas, make real connections, and remember why I love writing in the first place.
There’s something powerful about being in a space where everyone is there sharing a connection through stories, craft, and process.
This month I’m presenting at two smaller regional conferences—Writers of Northern Appalachia in Pennsylvania and the Bay to Ocean Writers’ Conference in Maryland. Large conferences have their appeal, but lately I’ve found myself drawn to smaller gatherings. There’s something special about spending time with a more intimate group of writers, especially when everyone shares a loose connection to place, genre, or community.
At writing conferences, especially these smaller ones, conversations are easy to find. You run into the same people more than once. You hear about someone’s project over coffee and then again during a craft session. Thoughts bounce around the room, ideas spark.
And perhaps most importantly, you remember that writing—even though it can feel lonely at times—has a wide and varied network.
Of course, conferences aren’t always accessible. They can be expensive, require travel, and don’t always fit into a busy life. The good news is that you don’t need a pass and a hotel room to find a room full of writers.
A lot of these things are free. Library programs, local workshops, online readings, and even online accountability circles can offer the same kind of energy and support. What matters most isn’t the size or prestige of the event—it’s putting yourself out there.
Attending writing events does something else for me: it gets me out of my own head, interrupting that negative voice, that voice of the monster.
When you sit with a draft long enough, it’s easy to convince yourself the work isn’t good enough, the idea isn’t strong enough, or that everyone else has somehow figured this whole writing thing out. (See last week’s “Before You Delete Everything: A Revision Plan”).
The opposite problem can happen, too: believing the draft is perfect and there’s nothing left to improve.
When you step into a room of writers you realize something important: everyone is still learning. Everyone is experimenting. Everyone is trying to figure out the next sentence, the next revision, the next project.
Even the writers you admire.
There are so many opportunities out there to gather and grow in your craft. Some offer workshopping, others time to write. There are regional conferences, national events, or international retreats. Some are online, some are in-person, and each has its own rhythm and benefits.
The point is simply to show up somewhere. You don’t have to attend the biggest conference or all of the events.
Show up to listen.
Show up to learn.
Show up to remember why you started writing in the first place.
Because when the muse and the monster cycle starts in your head again—and it will—it helps to know there’s a whole bunch of writers out there going through the exact same thing.
And sometimes all it takes to quiet the monster is stepping into a room where some friends have your back.
Anyone else fall into the muse/monster creative loop?
What conference or event has helped you through the creative process?
What kind of event would you love to try but don’t know how to find?
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