Melanie Bell

Author, Writer, Editor

Tag Archives: creative process


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My First NaNoWriMo, or How I Wrote a Novella in a Month

I’ve posted before about NaNoWriMo, but until 2020, it was one of those things I’d thought about but never attempted. I was usually busy, and more crucially, I’ve never been fast. I’ve completed novel manuscripts, but writing 50,000 words in a month seemed like a daunting task. I was happy to cheer on other, more ambitious writers from the sidelines. 

This year I spent November in lockdown. It seemed like the perfect time to give the challenge a go. I had a few opening chapters of a novella lurking in my folders, waiting for me to finish it, and I decided that NaNoWriMo would be my motivation to do that. I wasn’t sure if I’d write the full word count, but I saw other writers blogging and posting on social media about the progress they made from participating, whether or not they met that tally mark. Some used it to revise or meet other goals, like I intended to do. The tent seemed expansive and friendly.

This manuscript is the first time I’ve tried to write romance as a central focus. It’s also the first time I’ve attempted a novella, although I’ve thought at points that it might turn into a novel. It started out with two points of view, but feedback from a reader suggested that one was far more interesting than the other, so I rewrote the first part to focus on that character. I scrapped my outline and wrote by the seat of my pants, coming up with some of my ideas on long morning runs. It turned out that letting my mind wander while exercising was a great way to find inspiration.

What worked for me? Not, it turned out, joining online communities or engaging with the many passionate writers posting in great detail on forums and chat rooms. It’s wonderful to see so many passionate people creating, and I’d expected to find it motivating, but instead it gave way to something like Zoom fatigue. I joined a few groups and quickly became overwhelmed. Instead, I focused on the story I was telling. Maybe I’d socialize about it later, when it was done.

Complicating things, I had some serendipitous work projects come up for the month, so my time wasn’t as open as I’d expected. My writing stopped and started around other commitments that I didn’t want to forego. What helped throughout all that was writing regularly, in little bits almost every day. I felt closer to my characters’ lives. It was a challenge to write a new kind of story in a new genre, but word by word, it came together. 

I allowed my usual writing process to take the forefront, editing as I go. That’s usually seen as a “no-no” for writers during speed events like this one, but when I tried to draft with more of a stream of consciousness, I missed letting my editorial mind improve things. I’m an editor by trade, and it turns out that I value letting that skill set shape my work. It makes the next draft smoother.

The last day was a milestone. I’d set a 25,000-word novella mark by that point and wasn’t sure if I’d achieve that word count or finish the draft. Animated by the frenzy of a student with a due date, I wrote into the evening. The story wanted to tell itself. It knew where it was going. Soon, I reached the end.

It helped to have a deadline. 

I’m delighted to have given NaNoWriMo a try and met my personal goal. It was a great experience, and one I hope to repeat. NaNoWriMo writers out there, how did things go for you?


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What to Do When Your Brain Just Won’t Write

According to coach and author Alexis Rockley, the lack of focus and creative blocks that many of us are experiencing during the coronavirus pandemic stem from the uncertainty arising from this situation. We don’t know what’s going to happen next, and our brains are overwhelmed. In this and other stressful situations, it can be hard for those of us who want to write to get any writing done.

Every writer has struggled with this at points – writer’s block, stress, and other manifestations of a mind that isn’t in any shape to create. It’s one thing if writing is our day job, and we have the external motivation of a deadline with a paycheck waiting at the end (and even then, getting the words out can sometimes be a challenge). It’s quite another when the only person counting on us to get something written is ourselves.

When your brain just won’t write, what can you do? Sometimes it’s best to recognize and care for our needs and come back to work another time rather than tiring ourselves out in the here and now. There are lots of things that can help recharge your batteries, get inspiration flowing, and move your writing career forward when your brain is stalling and the words just won’t come. Here are a few of them.

Self-Care

Rest: If you’re overwhelmed or tired, maybe you need more sleep or downtime. Listen to your body and offer yourself the rest you need.

Exercise: Like rest, we need movement in order to function. Again, listening to your body is helpful here. If you’re feeling twitchy in that office chair, maybe you need to get up and go for a jog.

Check your physical comfort: Are you hungry? Thirsty? Cold or hot? Is your furniture hurting your back? Sometimes a comfortable environment makes all the difference.

Do your to-do’s: Some writers procrastinate by doing busywork, but the opposite can also happen. If you have pressing items on your to-do list that you’re putting off, they may be hogging brain real estate that could otherwise be devoted to creativity. Look at those worrisome tasks you’re putting off and get them done. 

Idea Generation

Read (or engage with other arts): Reading keeps writers engaged with words and stories, and can be a wellspring of ideas. So can taking in other forms of art, whether that’s looking at paintings or binging Netflix shows. Feel free to re-engage with old favorites too. 

Research: Like your to-do list, this is some writers’ favored procrastination tool, but it’s also productive. Read and learn about topics that interest you or that are related to your writing project, or try something new and out of your comfort zone. You never know what will spark an idea.

World build: Act like a kid and make things up! Draw an imaginary map. Invent a lollipop land. Dream up a new animal. If you already have a created world as part of your writing, play around with adding things onto it.

Learn your craft: Take a writing class, attend an event, or listen to a podcast. Try something that will teach you new elements or angles on writing and expand your horizons. 

The Business of Writing

Pitch or submit: When the words aren’t coming, that can be a good time to submit and query the pieces you’ve already finished. You can try pitching ideas for new pieces as well, or pitching rejected ideas to other publications. 

Edit: Try rereading your drafts with an editorial eye. See what would benefit from being rewritten. Reading your work aloud can be helpful here, as can exchanging critiques with writer friends.

Build your social media or web presence: It helps to have a presence and network online. Reach out, make connections, and put yourself (and your work) out there. Find people who will want to read your work once you get back to writing it.

Build relationships: As with the above, it’s useful to connect with others in the writing world. Try attending events (virtual ones count, of course), joining a writers’ group, or going to a conference. Keep in touch with the people you meet and like. 

If you just can’t write right now, truly, it’s OK. A writer is someone who writes – but you don’t have to write all the time in order to qualify for the title. There are lots of things you can do that will contribute to your writing when the words won’t come. I promise that blank page will still be there, ready for you to get started.


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Creative Coping

My local park in the spring during lockdown

I write this from home, where I now do my full-time job, giving new meaning to the term “in-house”! A spider plant from work sits on my kitchen table. I grabbed it in a panic when the UK government announced that all non-essential workers would henceforth be working from home. I didn’t want it to die. A month ago, my aunt was in the hospital, unconscious and on a ventilator. I’m grateful that she is now coronavirus-free; not everyone has been so fortunate.  

A lot is going on. Many of us are confined to our quarters, dodging our neighbors whenever we leave the house lest someone be carrying an infection. Some countries are starting to reopen spheres of public life, with mixed results. Socioeconomic divisions are more visible than ever. Some people have been laid off, some are balancing childcare and professions in the same living space, and some continue to work in hazardous conditions. People’s access to resources and private space varies widely. Even for the most privileged, though, living through COVID-19 isn’t easy. We are all dealing with increased stress, anxiety, and uncertainty.

While it’s harder for our brains to focus when they are under this kind of pressure, creativity has come through for many of us as a way of coping with a changed and stressful environment. People are telling funny stories about their pets as coworkers, taking up baking and crafts, and creating virtual events and communities that didn’t exist before. 

Why is creativity useful now? For one thing, it’s a way of expressing ourselves, channeling our anxieties and experiences of this strange new world by creating something new. For another, it can be calming, with the process of making art or crafts grounding us when we have limited opportunities to engage with the physical world. Creativity is also born of resourcefulness – limited ingredients in the pantry, for instance, can spark new meal ideas, and museums’ challenge to recreate famous works of art with objects at home have yielded impressive results. 

I’ve found that my attention span has dwindled, and I’m not as focused on longer projects as I have been at other points. Briefer ideas and bursts of expression are more my speed in these isolation days. I’ve been taking photos during daily government-permitted exercise outings and writing a lot of poetry about the virus. I’ve made kimchi for the first time, with this recipe yielding good results. I’ve enjoyed an online poetry writing retreat and read free e-books that authors have shared. Making stuff and enjoying things that others make reminds me that hope persists. We are experiencing collective challenges, but we can still bring new and beautiful things into the world in the midst of them.   

What creative activities are helping you get through the pandemic?


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Following The Artist’s Way Again, Over 10 Years Later

Five pelicans groom themselves in St. James’ Park, London, during one of my Artist Dates.

During the first year of my undergraduate studies, I encountered a book called The Artist’s Way. A classmate who’d completed a visual arts program told me about the volume and how his class had used it at art school. Julia Cameron’s book has sold over 3 million copies and inspired countless artists, but this was my first encounter with it. I was intrigued by my friend’s stories of how the book inspired an outpouring of productivity and gave him the courage to use masses of high-quality paint rather than being stingy. I wanted to check this book out myself.

I found a copy of The Artist’s Way in a used bookstore. One of my classes at the time involved a project in which we all found something we’d always wanted to do and did it. I’d always wanted to paint, and I used this book as inspiration. I started writing Morning Pages, following Cameron’s practice of writing three pages longhand every morning in which you vent, brainstorm, and babble. I went on Artist Dates, inspiring solo outings, though I no longer remember where I went. 

I did Cameron’s exercises, listing activities I’d always wanted to do and “secret selves” who reflected aspects of my personality that I didn’t typically express. To be candid, I only made my way partway through the book, but by the end of the year, I had in fact learned to paint. I hung some of my pieces in my dorm room, and painting entered the repertoire of arts I practiced and believed myself capable of doing. I also tried out other art forms, writing a good song and a not-as-good-but-still-finished musical. The Artist’s Way, even imperfectly followed, was a wellspring of inspiration. Once the year ended, inspired and enlivened, I moved on.

Near the end of 2019, over a decade later, an intriguing call for submissions got me writing a fantasy short story on the commute to and from my editing job. I got started but alternated between chipping away at the story and sitting there with a muddled, unproductive brain. I wanted to keep up my momentum, to keep writing, so I found myself picking up a tool I hadn’t used in years: the Morning Pages. 

On mornings when my brain wasn’t up to the task, I used my time on the London tube to ramble in my notebook about what was happening in my life. From there, spurred on by seeing a friend posting about The Artist’s Way on social media, I began to follow the book in earnest. My story coaxed me into taking a second walk down the Artist’s Way. 

A lot has changed since my first half-finished use of Cameron’s tools. I’ve moved from the creatively nurturing nest that my university provided for me to the daily routine of a full-time job, moving in a circuitous path that’s included freelancing, multiple careers, and entrepreneurship. I’ve lived in three different countries. I’ve published a successful book and dozens of short pieces. Having come from a place of early success, I’ve also become very familiar with failure. I’ve been prolific at times, blocked at times, and overly reticent with submissions. The drive of creative inspiration has at many points given way to the need to get things done. 

This need has given me a new perspective on The Artist’s Way. I’m discovering that it is, in fact, an ingenious organizational tool. The Morning Pages remind me of forgotten items to check off my to-do list and help me organize my creative projects. Sometimes bits of writing emerge from the pages, but more often than not they resemble vacuuming – getting the mind clean and ready for work. The Artist Dates have taken me on walks around the neighborhood where I work, enjoying the splendors of Buckingham Palace and St. James’ Park, becoming familiar with the birds and flowers there. For some, Artist Dates bring a welcome sense of adventure. For me, they’ve brought a deeper connection and grounding in my surroundings.  

The first time I tried The Artist’s Way, I was much closer to being that “artist child” that Cameron wants her readers to reconnect with inside themselves. I was less familiar with the challenges of the marketplace and had largely received encouragement in my writing and creative pursuits. I’d experienced the sting of some failures, but not on the scale that adulthood would bring. With this context, the encouragement offered by The Artist’s Way has been much more powerful the second time around. 

Engaging with the book’s exercises has not been easy. They’ve opened old wounds and questions about my future. However, the changes have been profound. I’d expected to discover an exotic array of new interests or begin engaging with new art forms the way I did last time. Instead, my inner voice piped up loud and clear that I want to write and need to fight for that desire. 

I was reminded of being eight years old and imagining that I would someday write all the things I read – mystery novels, advertisements, nature magazines, newspapers, everything! I remembered submissions that got lost and wondered why I hadn’t followed up. I became determined to follow that voice urging me to write all kinds of things, write what’s fun, and not put limits on myself. It’s okay that I want to be focused right now, that I don’t want to crochet or make a podcast. It’s okay that I’m scared to fail over and over. I’m determined to listen to my inner voice and honor that eight-year-old’s dreams. 

So, what’s changed in my life since beginning my second journey with The Artist’s Way? I’ve written a short story and several poems, begun a novella in a new genre, finished revising a manuscript and submitting it to my first round of agents, and embarked upon a “100 submissions a year” challenge. (I’m going for submissions rather than rejections because it’s a concrete goal within my control. One of these has already turned into an acceptance, and I’m certainly not sulking about it!) 

I’ve taken the initiative to create a blog for authors at my job. I’ve come up with several ideas for potential writing projects. I’ve started learning about linguistics and spent a morning picking up a few phrases in Swahili. I’ve gotten back in touch with some old friends, reached out to my great-aunt about family recipes, and grown very familiar with the pelicans of St. James’ Park. Fear, realism, and cynicism tango with hope and the excitement of infinite possibilities. Here I stand, in the middle of the Artist’s Way, and this time I’m determined to make it to the end.

Have you tried The Artist’s Way? What was your experience like?


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Your Instincts and the Creative Process

When you embark on a large-scale creative venture, you bring every aspect of your human nature with you. One influence you may not think about is your instincts. The Enneagram describes three basic instincts that influence people’s behavior: Self-Preservation, or the drive for conservation; Sexual, which involves the drive for stimulation; and Social, the drive for shared engagement. Some of these instincts are more active in your daily life than others, with one usually being unconsciously overdone, one moderately engaged, and one under-attended to. If you look at your creative process, you’ll find these patterns recurring. Each instinct brings vital elements to creativity.

I was introduced to the idea of using the Enneagram’s instincts in service of the creative process in Lindsay Robertson and TJ Dawe’s Develop Your Creativity workshop, and have gained additional insight through teaching The Enneagram Institute’s The Three Instincts (Subtypes) Workshop, which I’ll be holding in Edinburgh this 14-15 October. The instincts are powerful material because they shape your behavior so deeply yet so unconsciously, and bringing them into your awareness opens opportunities for change that we wouldn’t otherwise access. Below, you’ll find strategies that you can use to work constructively with each of the three instincts. Notice which come easily to you, and which could use a gentle nudge. How can you incorporate the strategies you underuse into your creative practice?    

Foundation: In order to create, you need to have some form of structure and discipline in place. You could have the greatest ideas in the world, but without sitting down in that chair and making something, they will remain intangible possibilities rather than vibrant creative projects. Building a productive foundation is one way the Self-Preservation Instinct plays a key role in creativity. You can make this instinct work for you by scheduling time to devote to your project. Many find it helpful to create routines for themselves, such as writing every morning, setting timers, or using a program that blocks the Internet for a set amount of time. Tending to your basic needs and creature comforts is another way to use this instinct in service of your creativity. Is your workspace comfortable? Does the setting enhance or detract from your productivity? Some people find it most conducive to their creativity to work in a cafe with a comfortable hum of chatter, while others might need their workspace to be clean before they get started. Are you sufficiently fed and rested? Many creators have day jobs in addition to their creative work, which help with their foundation by ensuring that their financial and material needs are tended to.

Immersion: All creativity starts with a spark. You have a great idea that gets you excited. You’re drawn to make something new. Connecting with the Sexual Instinct in your creative work is similar to the rush of falling in love. If you can stay passionate about your project, that spark can mature into commitment. Let yourself love what you’re doing, and have a way of recording new ideas when they come to you (notebook, phone app, etc.). Give yourself to your inspirations when they strike: if you’re sizzling with enthusiasm about your novel one night, this might be a good time to get out the laptop. Let your impulses be woven in and see where they go. This won’t always look like foundations and patterns, but fits, starts, and lightning are part of productivity, too. When you aren’t feeling lit up, continue to energize your work by bringing in new ideas. Julia Cameron suggests making weekly artist’s dates, a practice that fuses the routine of the foundation stage with the excitement of immersion. Make it a practice to take yourself new places and experience new things.

Context: No one creates in a vacuum. Even if you complete a creative project on your own, you draw inspiration, consciously or unconsciously, from a broader context. This may include the works of other creators (which are often part of long lineages of influence), and ideas or feedback from other people. Everyone uses the Social Instinct to connect with influences, strengthen, and disseminate their work. If you look in the Acknowledgements section of any book, you’ll see that it wouldn’t exist without a long chain of people involved. You can draw on this instinct’s power by seeking community and context. Find writers’ groups, critique groups, or collaborators who you can bounce ideas off of, and receive valuable perspective. Feedback will shape your work into something more powerful and ensure it resonates with your intended audience. Forge accountability partnerships where you keep each other motivated. Look for work in your field that interests you, and study it to learn new forms of technique and craft that you can try out. You may want to seek professional help, or public response, to take your work to the next level. These strategies will strengthen your work and ensure your voice has an audience and influence.  

Which instinct-based strategies would you like to use more of? How can you build them into your creative practice?