Who are you becoming as a writer? Forget making a list of New Year's resolutions; instead, write a narrative for 2026. This bonus episode includes prompts for a creative reset to prepare you for the year ahead.
If you have plot bunnies coming out of your plot holes, it’s time for a writing break.
It’s the first day of a new year, which means it’s time for reflection, intention, and delusion. Where would writers be without delusion? Fear not, this is not a rant on the power of delusion. But it is a short and sweet bonus episode to wish you a happy new year. Plus, I have a proposition regarding resolutions that might even appeal to non-resolution makers.
This year, instead of making a list of resolutions, I propose you write a narrative.
Imagine that you're writing Act One of your next creative arc.
Ask yourself:
Who am I becoming as a writer?
What does that version of me do daily?
What small action could I take today to step into that role?
Then write it like a story, even if it's just one paragraph long, or even just one sentence long.
If you want a prompt to kickstart that narrative, name one belief about your writing that you’re ready to outgrow this year. Or you could give your Act One an inciting incident. Ask yourself, What tiny but meaningful moment signals the start of your writing year?
Is it a new notebook? A:
And remember: getting the rest you need is not procrastination. Sometimes we produce, sometimes we percolate, and sometimes we pause. It's all part of the craft.
Regardless of the goals you've set for yourself this year, I hope you finish your current work-in-progress. But promise yourself one thing: you will not measure success by other people’s timelines. Comparison is the quickest way to kill a creative spark, and we can't have that.
May what you learned last year, from both good and bad experiences, serve you well this year. If last year was hard enough to seem unbearable, I will paraphrase William Ernest Henley and thank whatever gods may be for your unconquerable soul. I know it can get so bad that it hurts to see the world keep going. As Sylvia Plath once asked, "What ceremony of words can patch the havoc?" For what it's worth, and I do hope that it's worth something to you, I'm glad you're still here and I hope you still write.
Wherever you’re listening from today, you’re part of a global writing desk, and I’m honored to be at it with you. Authors are currently joining us for writing breaks in 92 different countries, and it lifts my spirit that you're spending time with me.
I have a growing list of writerly things I want to talk to you about, which I'll sprinkle into each episode as we continue our tour of genres, subgenres, and cross-genres. And, of course, I'll be sharing the latest publishing news, trends, and scandals.
I hope you continue to take breaks with me this year. Here’s to more words, more wonder, and more writing breaks. Until next time, may your drafts be messy, your edits merciful, and your plot holes manageable. Thank you so much for listening, and remember, you deserved this break.