What inspires you?

Welcome to Writer’s Rest Point, where I share my musings and insecurities on ~the craft~

I’m a Swiftie. I’ve got merch and friendship bracelets all over my office. I went to the Eras Tour twice. I belted out two of her songs (Shake It Off and Love Story) at karaoke last week. But I haven’t been listening to Taylor’s music much lately.

That’s partly because she doesn’t have any concerts coming up (sad) and I have to catch up on the artists that I am seeing this summer (happy). But also because I maybe burnt out on her in the 2023-2025 era (iykyk).

Yesterday, driving around doing my errands, I blasted folklore in the car. A seemingly mundane decision. But I was surprised when my creativity wheels started turning again.

I’ve been having a hard time accessing my creative side. After burning out self-publishing in romance, I haven’t written much in the last year. I only published one book in 2025, which is basically a death sentence in this algorithmic time.

So I reasoned with myself. Who am I without writing? Without publishing? I made friends and community around writing/publishing, structured my free time around getting down words, scribbled in my notes app when a little lightning struck. But was I having fun anymore?

I wasn’t, for a while. And still, it feels futile to “write” and “publish” when there are so, so many books out there. I was at the library the other day, and the staggering number of books in the world struck me again. The fact that my little self-published books have gotten as far as they have (not very) is kind of a miracle in itself.

Lately, that burning desire to create my own worlds has snuck up again. I listened to writing lectures, rebranded this substack, organized some thoughts, and then hit another brick wall.

Who deserves to create in this economy? Who deserves to be acknowledged, honored, and beloved? So many massive questions stop me from just sitting down and daydreaming at my desk. I keep telling myself I don’t have to publish to enjoy the act of creation. I don’t even have to ever finish anything again. Maybe one day I’ll believe it.

Back to Taylor. There’s something so specific about the worlds she creates with her albums. Especially that run of folklore, evermore, Midnights, and The Tortured Poets Department. Maybe because that’s when I became a fan. Maybe because that’s when I truly embraced my identity as a ~writer~. Probably a little bit of both.

folklore pulled all of my characters back to the forefront of my brain. Ones who have a book, ones whose stories are unwritten. But there they were, swirling like a mirage on a hot, Michigan June afternoon, tempting me, as if I were a woman who hadn’t drank from the creative well in years.

Between Taylor’s notes and lyrics, it’s like she does really put narcotics into all of her songs. Creative bubblegum-crack for my squirrel brain to forage and hoard.

By the end of the day, I had a couple paragraphs in my notes app for a new project.

Creativity, like any other skill, is a practice. It needs tending, and time, and fuel. Commitment. And just enough wild belief to see my stories, my characters, as a spell worth crafting.

What inspires me? …Lately? folklore, Game of Thrones, Motor City Comic Con, and Clair Obscur: Expedition 33. I walked out of the library with a stack of YA romance books, so I’m hoping those will inspire me, too.

This summer I want to read, write, and treat my writing with the respect she deserves. This summer, I want to stay in the magic.

What’s been inspiring you lately?

Wishing you all a fruitful summer and many moments of creative alignment.

All the best,

Alaina Rose