Find an obsession and write it down.
Take a little walk. Imagine that you are a tiny luminous alien and this is your first day on earth. God, it’s warm! Use your sparkly new alien brain to explain redwoods, shyness, snow. See how the world collapses, then suddenly is remade.
Later at your desk, morph into a sneaky god and smash new language into existence: Moonsilk. Lovecurl. Doomdark. Fang-temper. Marvel at the taste of this new lexicon on your tongue. Suddenly you are swimming in a deep river with no name. Turn over and float.
Prepare for a strange and beautiful desire to catch hold of you. You’ll feel the ache of it beneath your collarbone, in the pulse of your thumb. Every writer is haunted in this way. Know that this desire will peck away at you, follow you like a flock of yellow-billed loons. Keep something always in your pocket to feed it.
Close your eyes and remember something from your childhood. Get specific: the favorite branch of your best climbing tree. Your friend’s chipped tooth. The sound of your father stompwomping the snow off his boot on the stoop. It doesn’t matter what it is—write to it. Especially if, at first, it might feel small and insignificant. Trust that what you remember has endured to tell you something now on the page.
For a while, lock your words in a shush-vault. Don’t speak or share your ideas too soon. The world can make you fall swiftly out of love. Instead, woo your project in private. Ask no permissions. Take no prisoners. Write what you wouldn’t dare anyone to read. If you are terrified, you are on the right track.
When it is time, print off your Tender Little Manuscript (TLM). Tie it up with a black velvet ribbon (for mystique). Put your TLM in your purse or backpack and feel the weight of it. Ask the weight what is missing.
Next, write what’s missing.
Finally, befriend a band of fellow writers so you don’t have to travel alone. Follow their lanterns when your own light goes out. Remember, creativity is contagious. Make their stories your parables. Take their boats through high water. They’ve traveled this road longer than you. When they read aloud, notice how their voices tremble with holiness. You have been blessed. Now, go out and bless someone else.
My writing community, Sustenance, opens for enrollment super soon! We only open 2x/year so don’t miss the chance to begin 2026 with us. Sustenance serves both poets and essayists who want to meet online and IRL. You must be on the waitlist to receive the registration link.
There’s a lot of online communities out there, here’s how we’re different:
IRL meet ups: We’re not just an online school, we’re a thriving community. Members in seven major cities now gather each quarter for IRL meet-ups in their local communities (with lots of impromptu hangs in between). Plus, this July, we’ll gather for our annual retreat in PDX!
MFA-level teaching: I teach 3x/month in the community and we also learn online from guest speakers like Ellen Bass, Pam Houston, Chen Chen, and Danez Smith. In addition, we offer feedback sessions, small groups, generative sessions, and Essay Club every month with Sustenance professors who hold an MFA or PhD in creative writing.
Extraordinary outcomes: Sustenance has been around for nearly 4 years and is steadily growing. Our 250+ members are doing incredible things and I’m so freaking proud of them.
Feeling the call to write? We’d love to have you. This is the last time Sustenance will be offered at the current price and the only opportunity to join for the next 6 months.❤️
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