Reading · Story & Thread.

Hello I’m Lyndsay, I am so glad you have found your way here…

Welcome to Story & Thread., a cosy, welcoming place to be inspired by the quiet power of noticing beauty & wonder. Here we explore our creative lives through the lens of the seasons, and what it means to tell our stories with meaningful PR.

All subscribers will receive regular thoughtful posts about mothering, creativity, home and garden through the seasons. You are invited to become a member of The Beauty Thread., to join a creative community for online seasonal gatherings, home guides, co-working spaces and soon, guidance for crafting a considered PR kit for your creative business.

“I like to be surrounded by action — that can be people, but also nature — and then in total solitude.”

—Annie Ridout.

Dearest reader

How are you doing as we land firmly in June? The summer solstice is almost here, but rather than feeling the pressure to match the light and be my brightest self, I find myself craving the quieter invitation it holds. From the Latin, ‘solstitium’ — the sun standing still, it is a pause at the height of things, before the slow return. I hope you can find a pocket of that stillness in the coming days and weeks too…

I haven’t written as much as I would like recently — though there has been a lot happening behind the scenes. Earlier this year I began The Hearth course with Lauren Barber to design and build a new website for Story & Thread., and I have discovered that the process is about so much more than the practical side of things. It is an invitation into full expression — into sitting with everything you are, what you want to offer and how you want to be seen in the world. The process takes time, patience, and more than a few moments of feeling overwhelmed — but something has shifted recently and I feel as though the pieces are beginning to find their shape. More to come on this…

Alongside, I have been developing Find Your Story — a storytelling and PR workbook that began as a standalone introduction to finding and shaping your narrative, and which has since become the companion to a workshop I have just run for the first time. It was a really special morning as we found our way into our stories together. I will be offering it again, first to members of The Beauty Thread., (and beyond) very soon. If you would like to be among the first to hear when it returns, drop me a message and I will add you to the list…

Add me to the list

Also coming up tomorrow is Gather & Tend. in summer, a cosy online morning of seasonal grounding and gentle creative co-working together. There is still space if you would like to join us…

What: Gather & Tend. in summer.

When: Wednesday 17th June 2026, 11am – 12.30pm BST.

Where: From the comfort of your home (or anywhere), via Zoom.

Message me for details…

I first found Annie in the earliest, hazy days of early motherhood — her book The Freelance Mum, arrived through my letterbox at the beginning of lockdown, with a six-week-old baby, in our north London flat. Not long after, I discovered Annie had written a brilliant children’s book with a lead character who shares my daughter’s name — we have read it more times than I can count.

Annie’s poetry is nothing short of magical — she has a way of articulating thoughts that are deeply familiar and seeing things I have seen, without always realising it. I am hugely inspired by everything she creates and the generous, thoughtful way she shares it.

I realised more recently that Annie and I were walking the same north London streets on parallel school runs each day, and after seeing snaps of her newly established garden studio, it felt like a chat about her creative space was a must. I hope you enjoy stepping inside her world. I hope you enjoy discovering more in the latest instalment of the ATELIER series…

ATELIER, noun, [French atuh-lyey].

a workshop or studio, especially of an artist, artisan, or designer.

I’m a writer. I started in journalism, writing for local and regional newspapers and then, for the nationals and magazines. I was also an early ‘blogger’ and have launched three digital magazines over the past 15 years. After my second baby was born, I got into non-fiction book-writing, and I’ve had three books published, on different subjects, as well as ghostwriting two for celebrities (one was a Sunday Times bestseller). Alongside books and articles, I write poetry that I have self-published in three collections and turned into prints, and I write essays on Substack about my work/life. In recent years, I’ve added drawing into the mix, to illustrate my poems and essays. And everything I know and learn, I teach through online courses, workshops and my writers’ membership: The Creative Way Collective.

I have a studio at the end of my garden, in north London. Our house is quite small but the garden is long (for London) so when I’m out in the studio, I feel properly tucked away. We live near ancient woodland and I can hear the birds singing while I work. My husband is a builder and he built the studio himself. He created two studios within the same structure - one for him, one for me - so that I wouldn’t complain about his mess. Ironically, my side appears to be much messier than his, when I peep through the window. The studio is where I go when I’m ready to get my head down. Before that, I will spend time walking, or zooming around on a Lime bike, which gets the ideas flowing.

I wake up early, around 5.30am, and drink a lot of coffee. This kicks my brain into gear and often, I’ll have an idea for a poem or essay that I’ll note down to return to later or get started on straight away, if I have time. I go to my studio and light a candle, stretch, maybe do a really short meditation. After that, I’ll write, draw or just think. I go back into the house at 7am to make packed lunches and help get everyone breakfast, before starting the school drops at 8am. I have a window between 8.15 and 8.45 where I go for a coffee, alone, and write - usually into my phone; sometimes on paper. Two more school drop-offs and I walk home, it’s a decent 20-minute walk, and - depending on what building work is happening and where - I start ‘proper work’, in my studio. One of my children attends school part-time so I usually spend whatever time I have writing. Sometimes, I have a coaching client or I run a workshop. The working day might end at 1pm, 2pm or - at best - 3pm. Then, I’m ‘mum’. We make art together after school, bake. I make dinner, or my husband does, we clear up and I watch a drama on TV while my kids have some screen-time. I find TV dramas very inspiring. It’s early to bed so that I can rise early and start again the next day.

I’m very inspired by people and places, that’s where I tend to gather ideas, but I do need total silence if I’m then going to turn those ideas into proper writing. Someone eating in the background, tapping on the table, watching TV, or having a good go on a hammer drill makes me rage. So, I like to be surrounded by action - that can be people, but also nature - and then in total solitude. I have often worked from the kitchen table, especially since having children, so I’m probably not that fussy about my workspace. But I love my studio and it feels like a haven. I love that no one can move my things, as I lock it when I’m not in there. Though, my children like to visit me in my studio and ask me to print things off for the games they play.

Alone.

Smell is important. I always have scented candles (I love lavender) and even when they’re not lit, they make the studio smell lovely. Though, I will often light a candle before running a workshop or having an important phone call - with a publisher, for instance - as it helps me to shift into the right energy for that event. I’ll set an intention, while lighting the candle, about how I’d like the workshop or call to pan out. I like natural light, ideally, but if I’m up early and writing in the darker winter months, I’ll use a lamp. Light, white walls, lots of wood. I like natural tones, in terms of the clothes I wear and also my furniture and ornaments. Except my pink piano, that brings an unexpected burst of colour. And also: plants. I’m obsessed with my indoor plants. I tend to them, daily. Outside my studio, I’ve planted wildflower meadow seeds on a small patch of earth and there are tiny green sprouts shooting up. They need watering each day. I’m excited to see the flowers that will appear over the next few months.

I’ll do short bursts of writing in a cafe, on a park bench, while out running in the morning, or on the way to drop off or pick up my children from school. Often, I’ll dictate into my phone. My sister-in-law observed me doing this while we were away in Paris and said I looked like a detective, discreetly dictating into my phone. I quite liked this image. The writer is a detective, of sorts. Observing people, place, environments and turning those observations into poetry or prose. For longer writing sessions, I’ll go to my studio.

I find nature inspiring in one sense: it calms my nervous system which then triggers creativity. But I’m definitely most inspired by people and conversations, when it comes to the content of my work. I love chatting to female friends, the way our conversations are like a waterfall, flowing out, endlessly. And social media: I love reading people’s Substack essays, seeing art work and poetry on Instagram, looking at people’s homes on Pinterest. Lastly, books and TV. I watch a lot of dramas on telly, on the BBC, ITV or Netflix. And I read a novel before bed every night - sometimes just a few pages; sometimes more. Plus, I usually have a non-fiction book on the kitchen table that I’ll read when I come down in the morning for my first coffee.

I work around my energy. I can be quite manic, in terms of my writing, when my energy is high - I won’t let an idea slip away. I get into hyperfocus and I make it happen. This means that everyone around me feels ignored and I’m aware that it’s not very nice to be ignored so I do try to explain what I’m doing and escape until I’m finished. Then, I come back with a lightness and a sense of relief. For a while, I went for a sauna at the start of each work day. This felt ritualistic in terms of time away from my phone, with only my thoughts, to let ideas percolate. I loved it, but it was eating into my day a little too much so I’ve stopped for a while. I’m hoping that I can return to it when my working hours extend. Walking with women friends feels ritualistic. I did that today, before work, and when I got to my desk, I felt like I was buzzing.

I’m lucky, I got my dream studio. White walls, big windows, lots of natural light. There’s space on the floor for a yoga mat so I can do my stretching in the morning. And then I have a big, custom-made plywood desk with space for my laptop, pens, notes and art materials. I have a drum and some Tibetan singing bowls. Also, a sewing machine, as I like the idea of making my own clothes, one day. Once the wild flowers are sprouting up out on my little patch, I’ll have the perfect view from my studio.

Annie Ridout is a non-fiction author, journalist for nationals, viral poet, bestselling essayist on Substack and she runs a writers’ membership: The Creative Way Collective.

You can find Annie online below:

Annie Ridout | Instagram @annieridout | Substack Annie Ridout, The Creative Way Collective, We Hyperfocus

I loved this conversation — from Annie's early morning ritual, her garden studio tucked away from the world, and the meadow she is tending outside her window. But most of all I loved her description of the writer as a detective — observing, noticing, recording the world in all its intricacies. And the way she moves between the two: gathering inspiration from people, places and conversations, and then retreating into total solitude to turn it into words on the page.

Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed this glimpse into Annie’s creative world — as always, your thoughts and own experiences are so welcome in the comments.

Much midsummer love,

Why inspiration is everywhere but writing requires silence, with Annie Ridout.

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