The reason you're not writing isn't a you problem...

My process looked more like collage than any kind of writing I’d done before but the results delighted me. I’d cracked the code. Created a cohesive narrative out of a mess of chaos.

I had no idea that learning this approach to personal narrative would change my life and open up so many doors for me, personally and professionally.

Now that I’ve been mentoring writers for a decade I’ve witnessed all kinds of writers successfully meet their goals.

I’ve taught academics, lawyers, doctors, business executives, technical writers shape vulnerable material into powerful short-form memoir.

They didn’t think they could do it and light up when they discover they are actually quite brilliant writers in spite of how long it’s been since they last did something creative.

Their stories weren’t inaccessible at all. They just needed to try a different approach.

And all this time you thought the problem, the reason you weren’t writing, was you.

That you lacked talent or motivation or some secret quality that make writers successful— when all you needed was someone to show you how.

Learning my method for getting unstuck is only as good as actually doing it, and doing it consistently.

Because I know you have more than one story in you. You are multi-storied. You have a book in you, quite possible many.

And every time you write a story, what could possibly top the feeling of relief of having created something so personal and meaningful.

For me, the experience of writing my stories brings me joy because it’s such a powerful feeling to create.

Writing stories is a record of my becoming and ongoing evolution.

In fact, the writers who join my community are exceptionally smart, emotionally intelligent, high achieving folks who know how to make shit happen.

When they let their writing go it’s not that they have lost faith in its power. It’s that they get discouraged because they feel alone, and in their aloneness they can’t see their work for what it is.

So the doubt creeps in. They don’t think their work is good enough, worthy of their time, and set it aside in favour of all other things they could be doing.

But it often takes a trusted ally to offer us the gift of sight. We just can’t see our work, especially immediately after we’ve drafted something.

I write alone, at my desk, and sometimes alongside other writers. But even when I didn’t have my community the truth is I wrote because I had company.

My very first writing group was called The Skylarks and we wrote together every Thursday night then shared. I’ve written most consistently when I’ve worked with a coach who provided the accountability of deadlines and insights on what was emerging in my work.

Writers without the support of a community who empathize with what it takes to do the work and get what they’re trying to do are the first to abandon their projects.

The ones who find their way to my workshops and programs confide how deeply terrible it feels to be haunted by their abandoned stories.

It’s why the return to their writing and seek community support.

To have ghosted their stories feels intolerable to them. A betrayal of the self.

I wish The Gathering existed when I began writing intimate personal narrative because it’s such a beautiful experience to connect with other creative folk who get it.

Once a month we meet up to write together and participate in a 100-word story challenge.

Inside our community you’ll meet generous writers who are collaborative — not competitive.