Attending my first writers’ conference proved to be life-changing—or at least career-changing. In the years since, I’ve attended a wide range of writing events, and each one has in some way substantially contributed to my career.

Some deepened my knowledge, others expanded my professional network—most did both.

I can’t imagine where I’d be without them.

Could a writers’ conference be a life-changing/knowledge-deepening/network-expanding opportunity in your future, even this year? If yes, how do you determine the right conference for you?

This post is the first of a short series on how to get the most out of your next (or first!) writers’ conference, starting with how to choose your next (or first!) writers’ conference. 

In the early days of my writing career, I explored freelance writing. Thanks to a mentor, I learned how to pitch myself as a writer for companies looking to outsource things like company newsletters and I gained a few core clients.

That launched my professional writing business.

But as a creative writing major attracted to poetry and essay writing, I wanted to explore other types of writing and submit to magazines, for example, so I picked up everything I could from library books.

The books, while excellent, were not enough to answer all my questions or help focus my efforts. And the internet did not exist at that time. In time, I instinctively knew I needed to start connecting with writers and learn from them. 

In fact, I started to crave it.

Somehow I heard about an event in Chicago called Write to Publish. I registered and attended it as my very first writers’ conference.

Nervous and unsure what to expect, I showed up and sat through sessions, as speaker after speaker delivered talks that energized my creativity, while the speakers themselves embodied a life I wanted to pursue: that of a working writer building a body of work to be proud of.

Many first-time conference attendees feel so overwhelmed by the flood of information at events like these, they conclude they could never pull it off and give up, walking away from writing and publishing altogether.

I felt overwhelmed, yes, but mostly excited and empowered. It was exactly what I wanted; it was exactly what I needed.

By the end of the conference, I interacted with attendees who in time became colleagues. I met someone who became another writing mentor. Those conference connections formed the beginnings of my professional network.

If you attend a writing conference…

If you’re considering attending a conference or any kind of writing event for the first time, I hope you find it proves to be a pivotal step in your journey. You never know how a chance encounter in the hallway or a timid hello as you take your seat in the auditorium could be the start of a professional relationship or a literary friendship that changes your life.

As we dive into what a writers’ conference is and how to choose the right one for you, we have to face two small but fascinating issues. One, believe it or not, is punctuation; the other is labels.

Let’s start with punctuation.

You surely think this is overkill, but humor me for a minute.

Sometimes you’ll see an event called a writers’ conference, other times a writer’s conference. Occasionally you might spot a writers conference with no apostrophe. And then a few call their events writing conferences, avoiding the need for an apostrophe altogether.

In most industries, no one would care one bit about this level of detail. These conferences, however, are events catering to…writers, agents, and editors. So of course we notice the apostrophe (or lack thereof). And of course we start wondering how that tiny fleck of ink affects the attendees’ (or attendee’s) experience. 

Without wasting more time on the grammatical implications, I bring it up for practical reasons. Because when asking your writerly friends what conferences they recommend, apostrophe placement may not matter much, but in an online search each version could produce different results. 

 To turn up the perfect event for you, try using all the different search terms:

In your online searches, you also might change the word “conference” (singular) to “conferences” (plural). Conferences (plural) might turn up a list of events in a single article, which will save you time in your search.

If you search for the singular “conference,” your search results may deliver endless events to sift through one at a time…but it still might be an advantage, as you might find a new event that wasn’t around when a list of events was compiled into one article.

Most writers’ conferences feature speakers with sessions that educate authors about topics like industry expectations, genre-specific recommendations, author platform advice, tips for developing book proposals (especially for authors of nonfiction), queries, and other publishing advice. 

Conferences can also come in all different sizes, but most will offer keynotes, lectures, and breakout sessions. Some may include readings and workshops paced throughout a long weekend or some are a full week. 

Most writers’ conferences offer pitch sessions for writers who have completed non-fiction book proposals or for those who have complete manuscripts for their novels or memoirs.

Many conferences will have different tracks: one track might be for novelists, and the other might be for non-fiction authors. One might offer a track for unpublished authors and another for more advanced authors to discuss topics that new writers aren’t ready for. 

Knowing all of this can help you choose the best fit as you’re searching.

The other question is this naming or labeling. Gatherings for writers might go by different names. In addition to writers’ conferences, I’ve seen and attended:

Each designation suggests a different purpose and personality. When you realize how one tends to differ from another, you’ll be able to match your professional needs and goals with the right event. 

For example, you might want to write and talk about craft at a retreat led by a writer you admire, maybe in a beautiful setting. This event would feel dramatically different from a two-day conference hosting hundreds of authors that offers 15-minute agent pitch sessions and is held on a college campus or at a hotel. 

That’s why you’ll want to first be aware of what kind of writer you are and the writing you’re focusing on at this moment, then determine your purpose for attending a writing event.

This will include where you’re at in your professional and publishing journey. Then consider your current project and its stage of development. Today, I’m mostly covering the in-person conference experiences, but you may find similar benefits at something labeled something else.

Study the descriptions carefully, read the fine print regarding refunds and take into account that certain experiences may be much more expensive than others.

Knowing yourself and your writing goals and writing stage can help you determine your purpose for attending an event. It can help you decide if you’re better suited to an event for:

When you realize an event doesn’t offer speakers or sessions suitable for the kind of writer you are and the writing you’re pursuing, cross it off your list. It won’t be worth your time.

Next, consider what you need given where you’re at in your writing life and with a given project. 

Are you:

Given your current project’s status, you can decide which conference offerings will move it forward to its next milestone.

Even if you’re an unagented writer—that means a writer without a literary agent representing you—if you have a partially developed nonfiction book proposal, you may want to attend a writers’ conference to meet people and practice pitching. You might converse with an industry expert who offers ideas to strengthen your project!

Once you narrow the options to an event that seems right for you, you’ll have access to useful information provided by industry experts, and you’ll meet other writers, literary agents, and acquisitions editors who are in the same space as you.

Here are common benefits:

Learn and be inspired: If you’re new to writing and publishing or if you’re new again to it after a break, search for events that will provide you with foundational advice from trusted professionals lined up as faculty. The combination of motivating keynotes and educational breakout sessions could be just what you need.

Network: You’ll be mingling with other writers at these events. Some may be at the same stage as you, and others will be further ahead. You’ll chat at the coffee station during breaks between sessions. You might sit next to each other or stand in line together to meet a speaker at the end of a presentation. These may become future colleagues who endorse your book when it comes out or introduce you to an industry gatekeeper—they might be an industry gatekeeper!

Find an agent: If you have a completed manuscript or book proposal but you haven’t yet landed an agent through querying, look for events designed for your genre with literary agents and acquisitions editors from agencies and publishing houses that interest you. Be sure they offer pitch sessions and sign up the minute that option is available. Even if you don’t land a spot with your ideal agent, as I mentioned, you might bump into them naturally and have a chance to interact.

Even if you’re an introverted or dreadfully shy writer, don’t let that keep you from attending a writing event.

I’ll be encouraging you in another episode to make an effort to meet new literary acquaintances. Building a network of like-minded literary people is priceless. For now, know this: You might not meet your kindred spirit, but it’s highly likely you’ll meet someone you can at least follow on social media.

And you might get to know someone who can help you take the next step in your creative journey—you might encourage them, as well.

Conferences and other writing events aren’t cheap. In addition to the registration fee, you may need to ask for time off work, arrange for childcare, pay for travel, housing, and meals.

It adds up. And the writers who most benefit from conferences are rarely at a stage where they are compensated well for their writing, so it becomes a conundrum.

Small, Local Events: When my kids were young and our funds were limited, I looked for nearby one- or two-day events within driving distance. They often brought in two or three speakers and focused on a narrow aspect of the writing life. Those really helped me at that stage. Just because they’re small doesn’t mean they’re not offering valuable input.

Scholarships: Some events offer limited scholarships, so if you feel you qualify, reach out and ask the event organizers.

Grants: If you have enough time before the event, you could consider applying for a grant that aligns well with your writing project(s) and target reader.

Subsidized from Personal Budget: You might consider how other aspects of your life and work could subsidize this event. Be clear about what you hope to gain from attending—and how it fits into your long-term writing goals. That could be a way to view your investment in attending this event.

When I attended Write to Publish, I was building my freelance business. It probably took another year to start making substantial income, but in time I made enough to cover those initial costs. 

I wasn’t super savvy back then, but in retrospect I think I was viewing my writing as a small, startup business. The conference was an investment in my professional development, and I gained information and connections that contributed directly to my success.

In a remarkable turn of events, I’ll be on the faculty of the Write to Publish conference in Wheaton, Illinois (Chicago area), June 11–14, 2024. 

Yes, all these years later, I’ll be on site at the same event that changed the trajectory of my writing career. This time, I get to be there as a coach to support and serve Christian writers who want to be traditionally published. 

It’s humbling to come full circle, and I can’t wait to be there again.

If, after learning more about ​Write to Publish​, you feel it’s a good fit for you, use my affiliate code AK2024 at registration checkout to get $25 off. 

Make sure it’s a good fit—that’s part of the research. Again, Write to Publish is geared to Christian writers and traditional publishing. 

I have attended so many different types and styles of writing events over the years. I have loved every single one of them, whether they were in person or online, whether they were a one-day or a week-long event, whether it was a retreat or a conference.

Determine your criteria right now. What you need today might be different a few years from now when you’ll pick a different event. Dive in to research the options that suit you best.

Study the faculty, the session titles and descriptions, and how the days are structured. Do they have agent pitch sessions or not? Do you need that?

If you’re writing novels for the general market or you’re writing genre fiction, skip the Christian conferences clearly designed for authors of nonfiction. Avoid those that are focused on essayists submitting to literary journals, unless that’s what you want!

There’s no one perfect event, and no one event is going to have everything you need for all time. As I mentioned, I’ve attended many different types and styles of events over the years, and each one has given me a little something different to walk away with and apply to my writing journey. 

As you find one that feels like a good fit, don’t delay too long because some of them fill up. In fact, some might be full already—you can register or get the waitlist for your favorite. 

And look forward to connecting with people in the publishing industry who might be instrumental in getting you where you want to be as a writer in 2024 and beyond.

Once you choose your conference, keep an eye on the second article, about making the most of the conference itself (with tips for preparation and creative ideas to try while you’re there).

Dear Writer,

It’s easy to freeze up when we’re writing for the faceless masses or the random reader who happens upon our words.

What do we say to all those people? How can we speak with heart to a total stranger?

Next thing you know, we second-guess our ideas, our prose, our very selves. We fade to beige without saying what we really think, without being specific, without our signature wit and whimsy. 

What would that random person who doesn’t even know me think if I crack a joke?

We lose our creativity, our passion, our joy.

We freeze. We get stuck. 

We’re afraid to stand out, so we play it safe. We write dull, ordinary prose that could be penned by anyone at all, even ChatGPT.

One way to unlock creativity is to write a letter—a letter to your reader.

And not just any nameless, faceless reader but a specific person you actually know.

Dear Anthony…

Dear Paula…

Dear Lissa…

When you think of the kind of person you’re trying to reach with your words, does Lissa fit?

Good. 

Now, write her a letter about a question or struggle that she herself has voiced. 

Weave in ideas that can help. 

Encourage her with a vulnerable story.

Add a little pizzazz that only you can include—after all, she knows you. She’ll grin at your joke and “get” your allusion.

When you’re done, you can send her the note, if you want.

Or you can cross out Lissa’s name and replace it with the type of person you write for:

Dear Weary Homeschool Mom…

Dear New Gardener…

Dear Journaler…

If that feels awkward to publish, cross off the salutation altogether. 

Dear Anthony…

Dear Paula…

Dear Lissa…

I’ll bet you can find a great hook in your opening lines, and the letter-writing trick disarmed you enough to write fresh and real and personable.

From the writer’s perspective, writing a letter to your reader can remove that feeling of writing to the faceless masses and instead invite an easy tone and thoughts that convey empathy and intimacy.

J. Willis Westlake, author of an 1800s book about letter-writing, says:

In other [writing] productions there is the restraint induced by the feeling that a thousand eyes are peering over the writer’s shoulder and scrutinizing every word; while letters are written when the mind is as it were in dressing-gown and slippers — free, natural, active, perfectly at home, and with all the fountains of fancy, wit, and sentiment in full play.1

By tricking your mind into donning its dressing-gown and slippers, you can achieve that “free, natural, active, perfectly at home” tone, style, and voice. Your readers will love reading your “fancy, wit, and sentiment in full play.”

And it’s not just our style, tone, and voice that letters unleash; it’s also the content itself.

Westlake continues, “Though written, as all genuine letters are, for the private eye of one or two familiar friends, and without any thought of their publication, they nevertheless often form the most interesting and imperishable of an author’s productions.”2

In other words, these letters contain our “most interesting and imperishable” ideas. So why not write them as letters first?

This letter-writing format is labeled “epistolary” writing. And the epistolary approach is used more widely in published work than you might be thinking. For example, advice columns.

Advice columns like the classic “Dear Abby” and more recent “Dear Sugar” dished out empathetic responses that addressed specific needs that were sent in from readers.

The writer connected directly with the recipient who asked the initial question and with every reader who “listened in.”

Then there are nonfiction epistolary books, which invite us to peruse a letter exchange, and as we do, we feel we’re listening in on an intimate conversation. 

Recognize these letter collections?

• 84, Charing Cross Road, by Helene Hanff

You may have read epistolary novels that rely on this format to create “an intimate space between the characters and the readers,” as the Smithsonian Postal Museum writes. “[Because] letters are usually intended to be a closed communication, the readers are allowed to peer into the relationship created by the author.” ‌“Epistolary Novels as an Intimate Space.” Si.edu, 2023, postalmuseum.si.edu/research-articles/epistolary-fiction-themes/epistolary-novels-as-an-intimate-space. Accessed 23 Oct. 2023.

Here are a few novels in this format:

• Flowers for Algernon, by Daniel Keyes

When I was a college student, I wrote to an author whose book gave me hope and instruction when I was struggling personally and creatively. I sent her a long, vulnerable, typewritten thank-you letter explaining how her book gave me inspiration, vision, and tools to pursue my creative life.

She wrote back!

In fact, her response was an exuberant typewritten letter even longer than mine. She included vulnerable details related to her own creative journey and urged me to move forward.

We continued to exchange letters over the years, and each one she sent answered questions and gave me advice for writing…and for living.

We almost published these exchanges as a book in the epistolary format—maintaining the format of letters. 

Had we published them, the “interesting and imperishable” ideas from my mentor—in the intimate form of our correspondence—would have remained. Readers could have listened in, as it were, to our interactions. They would have received her insights for themselves even though she typed them out first just for me.

So the letter-writing structure can be an interesting experiment if your recipient is open to letting your notes (and possibly their responses) be shared with the wider public.

Picture your reader—that specific person who comes to mind. The reader whose specific problem you understand.

Open an email if you need to trick yourself even further and put that person’s name in the recipient line.

Relax. Write to her in a conversational tone. Say what you’re truly thinking. Express empathy, tell a story, offer a couple of ideas.

By shrugging off the sense that you’re writing to “everyone” and instead addressing just one person, you’ll feel free to be creative. Your writing style will produce more authentic and engaging content.

Tweak or delete the salutation, copy the text into a newsletter, social media post, Substack, or blog post, and then…

Click publish.

I’ll bet that genuine, heartfelt note will sparkle with your true voice and resonate deeply with your readers.

Sincerely yours,

Ann

1. Popova, Maria. “How to Write Letters: A 19th-Century Guide to the Lost Art of Epistolary Etiquette.” The Marginalian, The Marginalian, 21 Dec. 2012, www.themarginalian.org/2012/12/21/how-to-write-letters-1876/. Accessed 25 Oct. 2023.

Let’s look at the pros and cons of using writing prompts to decide if we’re fostering creativity or frittering away time.

I remember the pleasure of writing about ladybugs for my high school freshman English class based on the prompt written on the board.1

And then there was the book I found a year or so at the library: Write to Discover Yourself. The author suggested we “portrait” the important people in our lives.2 I wrote pages and pages about my dad based on that prompt.

Prompts continued to play a big role in my creative writing journey when college professors supplied our class with poetry prompts.

Those prompts did exactly what they were designed for: they sparked creativity, teased out long-buried memories, and helped me spin creative storylines I would never have imagined on my own. Prompts have so effectively opened me up, I decided to gather a collection for others to use called 52 Creative Writing Prompts, to help get pens moving and ideas flowing. 

But am I doing a disservice? Are prompts mere distractions, diverting writers from purposeful, goal-oriented writing?

Some argue we need to stop using prompts and only write toward public-facing projects. Why waste time on writing prompts that fill notebooks and journal pages, when we’re struggling to find time for the writing we claim we want to do? Why write in response to a random prompt instead of composing the essay we want to submit, the book we want to draft, the article we want to pitch?

Let’s peek at arguments for both sides, the pros and cons of prompts, to see if we need to embrace or abandon them in our creative writing life. 

On the plus side we have benefits of creative writing prompts, such as how they:

Creative writing prompts inspire writers who struggle to generate any ideas at all by giving them an energizing starting point. Prompts also spark fresh ideas in writers who tend to return again and again to topics they’ve written about before. Prompts press writers to explore subject matter outside their comfort zone, breathing new life into their rotating collection of pet topics and pillar content. 

Prompts offer a lifeline to writers grappling with writer’s block—they invite a “stuck” writer to write freely for ten, 15, or 20 minutes without those words needing a destination or purpose other than to get the ink flowing.

Writing prompts intended as practice serve as low-stakes exercises, encouraging writers to play and experiment without the pressure of immediate evaluation by editors or readers. Prompts allow writers to refine their craft and explore techniques in the safety of their writing notebooks and journals. In time they may develop a more captivating style.

Freelancers who’ve been assigned a topic for a magazine or essayists who have entered themed writing contests benefit from writing from prompts. It’ll prepare them for assignments based on narrow parameters. 

When writers tap out a few words in response to a prompt before diving into their long-form/high-stakes project, they can enjoy a brief warm-up that loosens them up.

With prompts, writers delve into deeper personal experiences, memories, emotions, and themes without fear of judgment, leading to more honest and profound writing.

When intentionally selecting prompts that invite reflection—maybe even under the direction of a therapist—writers can experience transformation through personal growth and healing. It’s no surprise that when we spend time in personal writing such as journaling, we grow and mature as people, which in turn makes us better writers.

To be fair, we need to look at the cons of creative writing prompts and how they might hinder our writing.

Critics argue that writing prompts can lead to aimless scribbling on topics unrelated to our writing goals and projects—time we could have dedicated to a work-in-progress. Instead, it’s being swallowed up by an unrelated prompt. Marion Roach Smith wonders why we can’t try warming up by writing toward the main project itself. Her big argument: when you write from prompts “you’re frittering away your time” instead of writing “with intent” and “for real.”3

Savannah Cordova observes, “If you choose a prompt that’s too far out of your comfort zone (or one doesn’t really inspire you), it’s no surprise that the response will usually come out sounding forced.”4

Prompts are usually random—in fact, some websites offer random prompt generators. These offer no clear direction or purpose; they simply invite us to write a random scene. Lacking purpose, have we strayed from our goal of completing a project?

While some writing groups use prompts and offer input from the group, writing to prompts privately means we miss the opportunity of receiving input and feedback from real readers. In contrast, when we write for readers in public in a place like Substack, we can see our work resonate with others when they respond in the comments.

Are some writers using prompts to avoid their main project? Relying on prompts for this purpose could be a form of procrastination instead of hitting a word count goal on a more important and urgent project. “Admittedly, prompts can be valuable — as an exercise,” writes Jeff Goins. “But eventually, you don’t need another day at the gym. You need to sign up for the marathon and run. You need to go play a real game. You need to do something. Here’s what I find productive — far more than writing prompts (no offense to those who use them): Write something meaningful and share it.”5

It’s easy to see the appeal of creative writing prompts but important to consider the downsides and “dangers” of them, as well.

Words of caution from Marion Roach Smith and others remind me that while a solid prompt can open up the flow of words, it could also—if not used judiciously and with purpose—keep me from hitting my most important targets and deadlines.

But is it really either/or?

I could propose a controversial conclusion banning prompts from serious writing work. Yeah, sure. I might get more hits on social media or responses in online searches.

But studying the pros and cons of using creative writing prompts has led me to a less controversial and more integrated conclusion. And maybe those who argue against them would agree to a thoughtfully integrated approach as well.

Here’s what I’m thinking…

Prompts could be used when we’re working toward the deadline and find ourselves stuck or blocked. Yes, a real project might benefit from a prompt.

We can set a timer and write for 20 minutes from a prompt to get our words flowing—any words flowing. When the timer beeps, we return to the official project with fresh eyes. The timer limits prompt-writing and minimizes distraction and procrastination while the prompt refreshes the mind. We’re still completing the “official” writing—in fact, the time spent responding to the prompt might brighten the tone of the finished piece.

Prompts could be used to generate a narrow focus for a freelance pitch, landing on a creative slant or angle that gets a “yes” from an editor. In this case, prompts aren’t keeping us from our “real” work but are in fact used to inform and inspire our “real’ work. 

And behind the scenes, free from public scrutiny, we could use prompts for inner work that shapes us into more insightful and compassionate writers.

It would be hard to measure the prompts’ influence on a future manuscript, but the writer will have more to draw from because they used prompts to privately sort out life, pain, problems, and confusion.

That doesn’t seem like a time-waster to me. Those private writing sessions? They could stay in a journal or notebook or who knows? One day that unfiltered writing may liberate the writer to produce more vulnerable projects that transform readers. And maybe one day they actually pull from some of those private writing sessions. Some of the actual content may find its way into a powerful piece.

I agree that writers with limited writing time will want to choose prompts wisely, avoiding procrastination by funneling as much as possible into their work-in-progress.

But I do think prompts have a place in our writing life, our writing practice, and our writing process.

As for me, I’ll be using prompts…with purpose.

How about you? 

How have prompts served your creative work or distracted you from it?

Will you continue to use prompts? If so, how will you use them (and how often will you use them)?

1. Kroeker, Ann. “Creating Worlds from Words: The Unremarkable Beginnings of a Writing Life.” Substack.com, Story Hatchery, 15 Apr. 2023, annkroeker.substack.com/p/creating-worlds-from-words-the-unremarkable. Accessed 12 Oct. 2023.

Children gaze at a vast blank wall and see opportunity—inspired, they grab a permanent marker and scrawl across the surface in loopy circles and jaggedy lines without hesitation. 

Why, then, do we adults stare at the blank page—not unlike a blank wall—and freeze up? Instead of scribbling out ideas that fill the white screen, we writers often come up empty, the blank page producing a blank mind.

We get too far ahead of ourselves, thinking about readers before we’ve written a single word, afraid of what they’ll think. Or we second-guess our ideas or skills. We worry about that and more, and next thing you know…we stop writing and stare at that blinding white abyss, paralyzed.

The blank page need not intimidate or cripple us. Why? Because with the ideas below, you can fill that great expanse with words so that it’s never really blank when you open it.

Try one of them the next time you open a document and feel fear trickling down to your fingertips. I hope they’ll free you up long before you freeze and you’ll replace fear with joy by effortlessly filling the page with words.

Create templates for your content, whether it’s a newsletter, blog post, or podcast. By inserting the structural elements you tend to use each time, you approach the page with a sense of familiarity. Templates serve as a framework to jumpstart your writing process, making the page feel less daunting.

Embrace the power of outlines. The classic 5-paragraph essay structure you learned long ago—with an introduction, three main points, and conclusion—is a reliable starting point for informative articles. For more creative pieces, try narrative outlines with a three-act structure (even if it’s short) or a beginning, middle, end approach. Outlines help you organize your thoughts and create a roadmap for your writing, banishing the fear of the blank page. See the links below for ready-made outlines you can use to add structure to your document.

Take a walk and record your thoughts about the topic you want to write about. Then, get a transcription made of that recording and paste it in—you’ve eliminated the blank page altogether. It’s as if you’re simply editing and expanding on (and refining) your existing thoughts, which is far less intimidating than starting from scratch with nothing but a blank page and blinking cursor.

Meet with a friend on a virtual platform like Zoom, click the record button, and explain your idea. As your friend engages with questions, you’ll be able to clarify and delve deeper. This approach captures your natural voice as you share what you’ve been researching and thinking about. Thank your friend, download the audio, and then use a program like Happy Scribe or Rev.com’s AI transcription service to transcribe the conversation. You’ll end up with a working draft for your writing project. TIP: more and more free AI transcription services are cropping up, so be sure to search for the latest options and you might not even have to pay. 

If you’ve been jotting down ideas, thoughts, or snippets of writing in a journal or a similar document, don’t let them go to waste. Pull something from there and paste it into your current document to kickstart your writing. Things like Morning Pages, Dream Journals, and freewriting can be sources of inspiration.

Before you even have a minute to think about the blank page, start writing your ideas in the form of bullet points—they don’t have to be complete thoughts or sentences. No more blank page! And you’ll have prompts you can use to draft your content. You can expand on each bullet point to develop your ideas further, gradually filling the blank page with meaningful content. Move them around until you find the ideal flow and structure. Problem solved.

If you’re open to experimentation, consider using an AI writing app. These tools can generate ideas and even provide outlines based on your input. While they may not perfectly replicate your voice, they can jumpstart your creativity and offer valuable suggestions—maybe even a rough draft you can work with—reducing the intimidation factor of a blank page. Manage your expectations, though, because it may take a long time before it comes close to matching your style and writing voice. Use it as a starting point before making the final project sound like you.

With these fill-the-page strategies, you can conquer the blank page and approach your writing with confidence and creativity. Each method makes the page less daunting, so you can seize the opportunity and make your mark on the world with your words, scribbled with joy.

Try one of these ideas this week and let me know how well it works for you!

• Ready-made outline: Problem-Solution (this articles shows how you can apply this outline to different projects, including opinion pieces, blog posts, and nonfiction books)

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When I was visiting my grandmother one summer afternoon, she pulled out a letter I sent her.

“This is good,” she said.

“Really?”

She pointed at the paragraphs and said the ideas were well organized, my writing flowed well, and I included lots of details. “It was interesting to read,” she said.

Then she looked up at me and smiled. “Maybe we have another writer in the family?”

Did I gasp? Her words certainly sent a jolt through me. Did she know how badly I wanted to write? Could she have known how much I yearned to be a writer?

Surely the thought of me as a writer seemed far-fetched to her. After all, my mother was a seasoned editor and columnist, endowed with innate writing talents—Grandma saw her earn accolades in college and as a career journalist.

My father was an editor at a prominent metropolitan newspaper, shaping stories, crafting headlines, and curating front-page content.

Even my brother, a skilled wordsmith, showed promise as a creative writer, eventually becoming an award-winning copywriter for ad campaigns.

And then there was me—Grandma knew her granddaughter was a sprinter on the track team, a clarinetist in the band, and a dedicated student earning good grades. Yet, no one, myself included, saw me as a writer…well, I helped put the school newspaper together, but I was hardly an ace reporter.

Yet here she was, encouraging me to write, cheering me on.

During that brief exchange when pointing out the strengths of my letter, Grandma kindled a spark of hope within me.

While external validation shouldn’t dictate our writing journey, it bolsters us when we face the inevitable resistance that hits us from within and without. Her words reverberated in my head (and my heart) for years, counteracting doubts that crept in, giving me courage to push past obstacles and move toward a future with words.

Around that time, my best friend in high school praised the short story I wrote: “The Medallion of Kilimanjaro.” Her sincere reaction made me believe I could tell a captivating story.

A few years later, my college boyfriend nudged me to enroll in creative writing at our university—his vote of confidence aligned with Grandma’s earlier endorsement, solidifying my self-perception as a writer.

In one of those creative writing classes, a poetry professor urged me to submit my work to the undergraduate journal. Armed with her belief in my potential, I sent in three. The outcome exceeded my expectations—each of the three submissions was accepted for publication, and one poem secured a prize.

I could continue to list even more people who added to that chorus of encouragement, bolstering my confidence. Editors, friends, team leaders, mentors. With their voices cheering me on, I took risks. With their affirmations in my head and heart, I pursued a writing career—I built a writing life.

Who cheered you on throughout your writing journey?
Who pointed out your potential and steered you toward a life of words?
Whose voices gave you confidence?

Was it a mentor, teacher, peer, editor, friend, or coach?

If they never voiced their thoughts, would you have given up?

Make a list of the people who offered you encouragement to pursue this path. If possible, track some of them down and thank them.

Perhaps you could mail them a letter?

After that…cheer on another writer. Encourage them as they face obstacles on the path to achieving their writing goals.

When you do, you’ll be one of the powerful voices adding to the chorus of those who give them confidence to stick with it—to pursue writing and build a writing life.

• My Writing Life Beginnings, Pt 1

Get the direction you need to improve as a writer with The Art & Craft of Writing.

In this eight-week intensive, I’ll help you elevate your writing skills and create a compelling piece you’ll be proud to show an editor or agent. By the end of our time together, you’ll have completed a 3,000-word piece, along with multiple short submissions that invite you to experiment and play with new techniques.

Just as musicians credit their musical influences, writers, too, have literary inspirations who help them discover and shape their unique voice.

At a White House event for poets in 2011, Billy Collins said to students about finding your voice:

You’re searching for the poets who make you jealous…you’re looking to get influenced by people who make you furiously jealous…And then copy them.1

Billy himself was influenced by the work of Wallace Stevens—I suppose he would say he was furiously jealous of him.

Author Shauna Niequist openly mentions the influence of Anne Lamott on her work.

The first time I read Anne Lamott, I thought, “Is this allowed? People can write like this and it gets published?”

I laughed at her sometimes-crass and often sarcastic style. She opened the door to a whole new way of writing, with honesty and sass. While hers was not exactly my style, I admired the conversational tone—the seemingly stream-of-consciousness flow of ideas—that, upon close examination, were carefully crafted.

That skill to make her work seem like it effortlessly spilled onto the page but was actually carefully constructed?

That made me furiously jealous.

My friend and co-author Charity Singleton Craig has mentioned Annie Dillard’s impact on her. She frequently quotes her and I sense hints of that literary genius in my friend, as well as in Dillard.

I read Annie Dillard in my early 20s and wondered, “What is this?” I liked it, but I didn’t “get it.” I didn’t understand what she was doing.

But I saw that she stitched her work together with precision using the tools of a literary craftsman. And that, I admired.

That made me furiously jealous.

As a child, I read Madeleine L’Engle’s A Wrinkle in Time. Whether I voiced it or not, I know I wondered, “How did she do that?”

At that time I didn’t want to write in that style or genre, but she led us to trust, love, and hope through the delight of quirky characters. I was thrilled how intimately she connected with her reader—with me. I was grateful at the time.

Now, as an adult who writes, I’m furiously jealous. I want to create bridges of trust, love, and hope, as well.

Charity and I attended a lecture by Scott Russell Sanders. In my notebook, I scribbled notes. Then I leaned back and listened. Finally, I wrote, “I want to write like that” on the page of my notebook. I tilted the page toward Charity to show it to her. She nodded.

She could see I was furiously jealous.

He writes about the Midwest, where I’m from, so I’m always impressed with how he brings it to life. His work connects with me in the familiar references of trees and rivers and birds. He names them and I know them.

He makes creative choices seem less mysterious than Dillard and more accessible. He’s conversational in some ways but not curmudgeonly like Anne Lamott. When I read him, I think, “Hey, I could try that.”

He’ll tell stories, create scenes, and introduce a theme, a phrase, a word. He presses in, gently, a little more—labyrinthine at times and progressively, sequentially, other times.

I want to write like that.

He’s unpretentious. I can tell that the ideas and stories he shares on the page are true. When I met him at that event with Charity, it was clear: he is who he seems to be on the page.

That’s who I am and want to be, too, in my writing.

In life.

Unpretentious.

I want to be like that.

When you say about a writer or author “I want to write like that,” that’s a creative influence.

When a writer’s work makes you furiously jealous, that’s a creative influence.

When you think, “Hey, I could try that!” that’s a creative influence.

Make a list of all the people whose work makes you furiously jealous—maybe even make a list of the work itself.

Then ask:

What do I love about this piece?

How is its sound, topic, and style appealing to me?

Why does it speak to me?

What about it could I learn from it?

How could I emulate it without plagiarizing?

Study that work.

Pick apart that prose.

Underline and circle and copy out sentences from that work. Figure out how they did it. Because writers who make you furiously jealous are your best mentors.

And as you study them—as they mentor you—like Billy said, they’ll lead you to your own authentic voice.

with Ann Kroeker, Writing Coach
Wednesday, August 23rd at 12pm ET

In Build Your Writing Lab, you’ll start to see every piece of professional writing with new eyes and find inspiration in their techniques. I’m not holding back — you’re getting six different approaches to dissect text and discover how to improve your craft.

If you’re ready to set yourself up for success, register now — you’ll see your work transform and your confidence increase with each writing experiment!

____________________

1. The. “Poetry Student Workshop at the White House.” YouTube, YouTube Video, 11 May 2011, www.youtube.com/watch?v=CVIOKLXK9uY&t=1870s. Accessed 3 Aug. 2023.

On a sunny spring day, I sat with seven homeschoolers on a stretch of grass for a creative writing session. The older kids started to fidget before we even started.

“What are we doing out here?”

“We’re going to see what’s around us.”

A fifth grader pointed with his pen. “I see sky, clouds, cars, building. Done.” The others laughed.

“We’re going to be quiet and listen, too,” I added.

“I hear birds. Done.” More chuckles.

“Before we write,” I began, “Let’s look at the sky. What color is it?”

Someone said blue.

“What kind of blue? There are so many blues. Is it dark blue like these navy pants? Or is it blue like turquoise? Or is it the kind of blue you want to swim in? Or the color of your mom’s eyes?”

They looked up. “Write down phrases that describe this particular blue at this particular moment of this particular day. Compare it to other things that are blue.”

They studied the sky, and one by one, each started writing.

“What else do you see—you mentioned clouds. What kind of clouds? Puffy white cumulus clouds or light and filmy cirrus clouds?”

We continued exploring multi-sensory details. They grouped their ideas by sense, so each stanza of the poem they were going to write began:

I see…

I hear…

I smell…

I touch…

I taste…

This simple “senses” poem isn’t just for kids. You could try sensory writing, too.

Slow down and tune into the space around you, ideally outdoors.

Look, listen, inhale deeply.

What do you notice at this particular moment of this particular day? Write down keywords and adjectives.

Capture images and sounds.

What smells do you breathe in?

Compare those details to something else. You’ll be crafting metaphors with nouns and more seemingly unrelated nouns that end up enhancing meaning.

Touch different textures.

Taste something—well, taste what’s appropriate (don’t eat anything poisonous)!

As you capture the particulars, you’ll realize that this moment is one-of-a-kind, and you’re writing about it using all your senses, as those kids did.

When you realize the poem is coming together, group the sensory details you’ve described to form those stanzas:

I see…

I hear…

I smell…

I touch…

I taste…

Rearrange as needed, of course.

Write an opening line if you like. Maybe two.

Write a closing line if you like. Maybe two. Maybe three.

Read it aloud.

You’ve preserved in multi-sensory detail a moment of your wild and precious life.

And you’ve practiced a skill you can use in all your writing to bring your stories and scenes to life for your reader with this multi-sensory detail.

Years ago I attended a writing workshop and the leader referenced Flannery O’Connor, paraphrasing a section of “The Nature and Aim of Fiction” from ​Mystery and Manners: Occasional Prose​:

A lady who writes, and whom I admire very much, wrote me that she had learned from Flaubert that it takes at least three activated sensuous strokes to make an object real; and she believes that this is connected with our having five senses. If you’re deprived of any of them, you’re in a bad way, but if you’re deprived of more than two at once, you almost aren’t present. (Emphasis mine, 69)

The workshop leader held up an imaginary artist’s brush and said, “One, two, three…and you’re done!”

Include in your poetry and prose—fiction or nonfiction—at least three sensory details and your reader will be in the scene with you.

Right there in the grass on that day with the homeschooled kids, they arranged their poems, scribbling into spiral notebooks balanced on bony knees.

When we brought them back inside, each child read their poem aloud for the other mom, who had stayed inside while we wrote. We applauded after each poem.

One of them read a simple series of images and metaphors. We applauded. He grinned a sheepish grin and then shook his head after making eye contact with his mom.

I looked over; she was wiping away tears. “That was beautiful,” she said, stopping to swallow and press the corners of her eyes to dam them up.

She smiled and looked at each child. “They are all so, so beautiful.”

You see the world—and your corner of the world—like no one else. The comparisons you make, the metaphors you form, flow from your own connections and history.

Bring your world to life.

One, two, three…and you’re done!

• A version of this story was first published at Tweetspeak Poetry; read it HERE.

__________________

with Ann Kroeker, Writing Coach
Wednesday, August 23rd at 12pm ET

In Build Your Writing Lab, you’ll start to see every piece of professional writing with new eyes and find inspiration in their techniques. I’m not holding back — you’re getting six different approaches to dissect text and discover how to improve your craft.

If you’re ready to set yourself up for success, register now — you’ll see your work transform and your confidence increase with each writing experiment!

_________________

O’Connor, Flannery. Mystery and Manners: Occasional Prose. Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 1974. (69)