Let Your Characters Into Your Heart

On Wednesdays, I share posts, fables, songs, poems, quotations, TEDx Talks, cartoons, and books that have inspired and motivated me on my writing journey. I hope these posts will give writers, artists, and other creatives a mid-week boost.

In her latest release, Writing Creativity and Soul, bestselling author Sue Monk Kidd shares the following writing advice:

The simplest, maybe even my best advice about writing characters might be this: Love them, empathize with them, participate deeply in their inner lives. You can ask all the smart questions in the world about your characters and formulate brilliant answers, but when the characters make their way from your head into your heart, they will start to feel like real people to you (which is fine as long as you know they aren’t real people).

When I finished writing The Secret Life of Bees, I missed the characters as if they were actual companions who had packed up and moved away. I’d hung out with Lily and the women in the pink house practically every day for over three years, and I loved every single one of them. When it was over, I got a little down. I dealt with the matter by getting a puppy and naming her Lily. It cured me

If you let your characters into your heart, they will feel powerfully vivid to you, and therefore, perhaps, to the reader, as well. You will miss them when the writing is over. And it’s likely the reader will miss them, too. Probably not enough to get a dog, but enough.

Source: Writing Creativity and Soul by Sue Monk Kidd, pp. 122-123

You Can Make Anything

On Wednesdays, I share posts, fables, songs, poems, quotations, TEDx Talks, cartoons, and books that have inspired and motivated me on my writing journey. I hope these posts will give writers, artists, and other creatives a mid-week boost.

Bestselling author Elizabeth Gilbert ends Big Magic: Creative Living Beyond Fear with the following reflection:

Creativity is sacred, and it is not sacred.

What we make matters enormously, and it doesn’t matter at all.

We toil alone, and we are accompanied by spirits.

We are terrified, and we are brave.

Art is a crushing chore and a wonderful privilege.

Only when we are at our most playful can divinity finally get serious with us.

Make space for all these paradoxes to be equally true inside your soul, and I promise—you can make anything.

So please calm down and get back to work, okay?

The treasures that are hidden inside you are hoping you will say yes.

Source: Big Magic, p. 273

Joy and Sadness

On Wednesdays, I share posts, fables, songs, poems, quotations, TEDx Talks, cartoons, and books that have inspired and motivated me on my writing journey. I hope these posts will give writers, artists, and other creatives a mid-week boost.

In a recent post on the Writer Unboxed blog, author Kathleen McCleary offered suggestions on how to weave joy and sadness into our stories. Here’s an excerpt from that post:

Every good story has to include both joy and sadness, but it’s the challenges, the losses, the disappointments, that make the most interesting reading, as Tolstoy pointed out. (“Every happy family is alike; each unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.”) So if my suggestions here focus more on the dark side than the light, it’s because, for better or worse, that’s what drives good fiction. Consider:

The flip side of joy. Your character may be experiencing a moment of profound joy—a wedding, a coronation, the birth of a child, a retirement celebration. What else is going on? Major life milestones often involve loss as well as celebration—the loss of freedom or the road not taken or the hope for a different ending. And I don’t mean a character having reservations about a major life event (is this really the person I should marry?) as much as I mean a character’s experience of conflicting emotions at the same time (I love this person and am thrilled to be getting married, AND I want to howl with grief because my beloved father is not here).

Who or what is your character grieving? We don’t only grieve for the people we lose. We grieve the experiences we never had and maybe never will have. We grieve scenarios or lives we imagined for ourselves that suddenly bump into a reality that makes it clear those imagined lives will never happen. We grieve our own lost physical abilities or good looks or health. We grieve the loss of routines, the loss of place, the loss of the familiar. The first house I owned was next door to a five-acre forest, filled with towering Douglas Firs and hemlock and cedar trees, as well as dogwood, maples, and more. One year a developer bought that parcel of land and cut down every last tree, and believe me, I grieved the loss of those trees every time I looked out the window or stepped outside. Even in the midst of happy times, we can be suddenly rocketed back into feelings of loss.

How does your character experience joy and grief? Intense emotions are intensely personal Characters may react differently to happy events—the wedding that delights your protagonist may fill her sister with sadness, while the birth of a child may terrify a grandparent who once lost a child of their own. Similarly, if you and someone else are grieving the loss of a person dear to you both, your experiences of that person are different, and the ways you feel that loss will be different. Maggie O’Farrell’s novel Hamnet (now a movie) includes one of the most vivid, searing depictions of grief I’ve ever read. The different ways the characters grieve almost splits them apart, until one of the characters is able to see and feel the way the other has poured their grief into a different outlet, and come to a new understanding.

How will your character’s grief be revealed. over the arc of your story? Grief is an upheaval; it can lead to divorce, estrangement, reconciliation, passion. I recently finished reading The Correspondent, Virginia Evan’s surprise bestseller, which deals with a character’s intense sorrow over the loss of a child (this is not a spoiler; it’s part of the book throughout). But it’s only as the character grows and changes over the course of the book that she can fully come to terms with the real source of her sadness, and the ending is a surprise.

Read the rest of the post here.

Don’t Quit Too Soon

On Wednesdays, I share posts, fables, songs, poems, quotations, TEDx Talks, cartoons, and books that have inspired and motivated me on my writing journey. I hope these posts will give writers, artists, and other creatives a mid-week boost.

Here is a thought-provoking excerpt from Elizabeth Gilbert’s bestselling book, Big Magic: Creative Living Beyond Fear:

I think a lot of people quit pursuing creative lives because they’re scared of the word interesting. My favorite meditation teacher, Pema Chödrön, once said that the biggest problem she sees with people’s meditation practice is that they quit just when things are starting to get interesting. Which is to say, they quit as soon as things aren’t easy anymore, as soon as it gets painful, or boring, or agitating. They quit as soon as they see something in their minds that scares them or hurts them. So they miss the good part, the wild part, the transformative part—the part when you push past the difficulty and enter into some raw new unexplored universe within yourself.

And maybe it’s like that with every important aspect of your life. Whatever it is you are pursuing, whatever it is you are seeking, whatever it is you are creating, be careful not to quit too soon. As my friend, Pastor Rob Bell warns: Don’t rush through the experiences and circumstances that have the most capacity to transform you.”

Don’t let go of your courage the moment things stop being easy or rewarding.

Because that moment?

That’s the moment when interesting begins.

Source: Big Magic, p. 247

All About Rituals

Rituals are about creating space in time, in our surroundings, and in our own minds. They give us a sense of predictability while still leaving room for creativity and flexibility. Something I already understood during my teaching career, where routine was the backbone of every successful day. When I began my second act as a writer, I leaned on that knowledge and shaped it into something new.

I crafted a morning ritual of my own. Nothing too dramatic, just a simple structure that supported my daily work.

Continue reading on Debra Goldstein’s blog.

The Power of Training

On Wednesdays, I share posts, fables, songs, poems, quotations, TEDx Talks, cartoons, and books that have inspired and motivated me on my writing journey. I hope these posts will give writers, artists, and other creatives a mid-week boost.

I enjoy receiving weekly doses of inspiration and motivation from a British writer and blogger named Lucy Mitchell. She has a delightful blogging voice that brings a smile and a thought-provoking pause to my day. Here’s an excerpt from a recent blog post:

For years, my social media feed has been a stream of writing advice, trending writer quotes and hacks on how to write more words. I have followed countless authors and writing coaches. I have spent hours celebrating their book successes, admiring their book covers, and appreciating their writing practices.

One day over the summer, I found myself spending more time scrolling through their feeds looking for motivation to write, but I wasn’t actually writing.

So, I made an odd decision. I started following professional athletes and filling up my social media feeds with their training vlogs. I still followed the authors, but I shifted my focus.

In my youth, I was a long-distance runner, so watching athletes train for the 800m and 1500m events felt like reconnecting with that younger version of myself. I started following GB athletes like Keely Hodgkinson, Georgia Hunter-Bell, Laura Muir and Jemma Reekie. I also followed American sprinters such as Melissa Jefferson-Wooden and Sydney McLaughlin-Levrone.

I began watching their training vlogs on YouTube and their Insta reels, where they discuss discipline and the mental battles they face. I admired their physical dedication, the way they tracked progress, and their calm acceptance of failure as part of the growth process. I admired them for showing up to train in the pouring rain, the suffocating heat, and the times when they faced personal issues off the track. They persevered through the training despite the challenges.

Soon, something shifted inside me.

Athletes made me view discipline in a new light. Watching athletes train reframed discipline for me. They don’t just “feel like” going to training, they go because that’s who they are. Their discipline isn’t glamorous; it’s about repetition, consistency, and patience, in all weathers. Writing is not glamorous. I write books, and they often feel like marathons. My books require me to show up regularly, not when I feel like it.

Progress became about progress, not about perfection. Athletes celebrate small milestones, such as shaving off a second or two, achieving a better sprint, overcoming the little things in the finish, and improving their running style. I started celebrating the little wins with my writing. It became less about the outcome and more about the process.

The Power of Training. I have started viewing my writing sessions as my own form of training with adequate periods of rest afterwards. Instead of searching for motivation, I have begun building discipline. Instead of waiting for creativity to strike, I have trained for it.

Writing is a sport of endurance and a test of patience and mental toughness. It’s about showing up every day and trusting that repetition makes us stronger.

You can follow Lucy here.

The Secret Ingredient to Finding Your Writing Voice

(Hint: It’s Not What You Think)

I’m happy to welcome author J.H. Jones. Today, she shares her experiences with writing groups and her recent release, From Draft to Craft.

Here’s J.H. Jones!

I’ve belonged to several writing groups over the years. With each group, I’ve been privileged to learn something important about the craft of writing or the business of being an author. But in 2024, the feedback process with my writing buddies dramatically shifted my work.

Let me be clear: there was no miraculous moment where violins played in the background and my fingers suddenly wrote perfect sentences and my brain came up with flawless plots. What happened was I developed my writing voice.

My writing voice reflects my unique personality, experiences, word choices and purpose. A writing voice isn’t something you learn from a book or in a webinar. Instead, it’s about gaining an understanding of your authentic self, coming to acceptance, and exposing it with intention on the page.

Before joining writing groups and online communities, I wrote sporadically in isolation, second-guessing every word, making assumptions about what people wanted to read, and trying to fit into certain story categories that I didn’t even like.

But something magical happened when I started sharing my work and reading the manuscripts of fellow writers. I realized what made a story interesting to me, and I learned what writing skills I was good at.

Through my writing buddies’ eyes, I saw patterns in my writing I’d never noticed before—the rhythms that felt natural to me, the subjects that made my stories come alive, the characters who tugged at my heart, the moments where my authentic self glowed. And just as importantly, I learned from their work. Even though my buddies’ styles differed from mine, each manuscript I read opened a new door, leading me to different approaches, varied techniques, and countless possibilities I’d never considered.

Thanks to my writing group, I started reading more widely instead of focusing on what I thought I should read. I also experimented with my writing. I tried new genres and formats, and tested various points of view. Some attempts fell flat, but others touched my writing buddies.

And to my delight, my jottings sparked something genuine inside myself, something that felt like me. With each experiment, I moved closer to discovering what I really wanted to say and how I wanted to say it—in other words, my writing voice.

Today, my writing voice is still a work in progress. Yet, my confidence is growing with every story I get down on paper. And I’ve learned an important lesson: the more I write, the clearer my voice becomes. It’s like tuning an instrument—each writing session brings me closer to the right pitch, the right tone, the authentic sound that is uniquely mine.

My writing buddies have been essential to me on this journey. They see potential in my work that I can’t always see myself, and they remind me to keep going when doubt creeps in.

If you’re searching for your writing voice, my advice is this: find your group or community and exchange your works-in-progress, write as often as you can, and be patient with yourself. Your voice is already there, waiting to be discovered. It just takes practice, some writing-buddy support, and your personal courage to keep showing up to the page.

J.H. Jones Bio

J.H. Jones (she/her) is the author of The Write Group, which helps writers tap into the power of writing groups, and From Draft to Craft: A New Writer’s Guide to Feedback which helps writers with the feedback process. For creative fiction, she experiments with dark gothic-vibe stories and paranormal romance, while she works on her debut gothic horrormance set in New York State in the 1850s. Visit her at www.jhjones-author.com and connect with her on Bluesky, Facebook and Instagram.

You can purchase her latest nonfiction ebook, From Draft to Craft, here:




Accepting Rejection

On Wednesdays, I share posts, fables, songs, poems, quotations, TEDx Talks, cartoons, and books that have inspired and motivated me on my writing journey. I hope these posts will give writers, artists, and other creatives a mid-week boost.

In a recent post on the Writer Unboxed blog, award-winning author Greer Macallister shared advice on accepting rejection. Here’s an excerpt from that post:

If you don’t learn to accept rejection gracefully early in your writing career, you’ll end up fighting a lot of unnecessary battles later. Which is bad for you on many different fronts.

Because while there are some battles worth fighting in publishing–fight for the right editor, for marketing, for the right cover and title–there are a lot more that you can only win by not fighting at all.

Editor doesn’t want your book? Accept it. A major bookstore isn’t stocking it? Accept it. Your friend’s book seems to be getting all the book clubs and TV options and buzzy-buzzy Most Anticipated coverage? Accept it, and wish them well. Bad Goodreads reviews? Accept them and move on (or don’t read them at all.)

Does this bent toward acceptance fly in the face of the wisdom that persistence is the writer’s most important trait? I’ve thought about it, and I don’t think so.

Persistence, after all, is not just pushing forward. It involves flexibility. Adaptation. Persistence doesn’t mean you send your first manuscript to 100 agents, and then another 100, then another 100. It means you query widely to agents you’ve researched, take a look at the responses, and decide how to move forward from there. Maybe you edit that first manuscript, or maybe you write a different one. Folded into that process is acceptance. You explore, you try, you fail, you accept, you adapt, you try again, and if everything comes together just right, you succeed.

You can read the rest of the post here.


I Couldn’t Do It Alone

When I retired in June 2008, I launched my second act as a writer. I started with articles and book reviews, slowly finding my footing as my work appeared in newspapers, magazines, and online publications.

Buoyed by this early success, I began to dream bigger. Why not a novel? My original plan was to write and edit the novel, find an agent or publisher, and surprise everyone with a grand reveal at my launch party.

That was the dream.

The reality was very different.

I quickly discovered that writing and publishing a novel was very different from writing articles and book reviews. The scale was larger, the doubts louder. I couldn’t do it alone. I needed help, guidance, and boatloads of encouragement.

Continue reading on J.H. Jones blog.


All About Moodling

When I first heard the word “moodling” at a writing workshop, my thoughts turned to zucchini noodles. A bit off base, but considering it was close to lunchtime, I assumed there might be a culinary connection.

The facilitator quickly put an end to that line of thinking. A long-winded explanation followed with brief mentions of famous moodlers: Isaac Newton, Napoleon Bonaparte, and Albert Einstein. My appetite shifted from food to curiosity.

Intrigued, I decided to do my own research. Here’s what I discovered:

Moodling is primarily a solitary pursuit, one that defies formal instruction. You won’t find any university or college courses devoted to moodling. Nor will you find it in the Pocket Oxford English Dictionary (2013 edition) on my desk.

Continue reading on Lynn Slaughter’s blog