Author: Brooke F.

I’m a college student who has unrealistic dreams of being a famous authoress who writes mystery novels. Either that or a goblin... haven't decided which. I live on a farm up on a hilltop where the wind likes to mess up my hair and the trees sway poetically in the wind.

A Review of Lex AI Writer

~ Brooke F. ~ 3 Comments

I have historically have had a really forgiving view of AI. I think it’s here to stay and that much is true, but as time has gone on, I have gravitated to a more critical view of AI content, specifically AI writing. I think it’s great for brainstorming when you’re on square 1 or perhaps outlining a blogpost (here is where I reveal that it is not uncommon for me to ask chatgpt for help with organizing blog posts, titling, and other such small tasks that allow me to focus on my blog post’s actual content). Heck, I think it’s maybe even good for writing filler text that allows you to move your story forward until you can return and fill it with something better and far more creative. But over the past year, I’ve really seen the quality of writing content being replaced with quantity and this is no doubt due to the rise of AI.

AI garbage books flood KDP and many so-called-writers are making tutorials on how you can shortcut the process of creating a story and avoid *gasp* writing! I think someday I’ll make a post on this in the future about how these pretend writers must not really enjoy the craft if they’re continuing to engineer ways to NOT write but now is not that time. Today, I’m here to talk about a specific AI writing platform known as LEX.

Lex AI Writing Platform: A Powerful Tool with a Hidden Catch

Lex is one of the most intriguing AI writing tools I’ve explored. With a wide array of functions, it offers a startlingly diverse set of tools. I could see Lex catering to writers across various disciplines due to this diversity, whether you’re drafting blog posts, brainstorming story ideas, or simply fighting off writer’s block. However, as with any tool of this caliber, its strengths come with a critical caveat. But we’ll get there shortly. First, an introduction to Lex’s toolbox is in order.

A Brief Overview of Lex’s Tools

One of the few positives I will say is Lex impresses with its thoughtful organization and user-friendly interface. The platform boasts features designed to streamline the writing process. Maybe a little too streamlined, but again, I’m getting ahead of myself. The tools and functions are as follows:

  • Idea Generation: It helps writers overcome blank-page syndrome with prompts and suggestions.
  • Continuity Tools: Lex can pick up where you left off, offering full paragraphs based on the context you provide it.
  • Editing Suggestions: It attempts to analyze tone, grammar, and structure to help refine your writing.
  • Customization: You can tweak Lex’s settings to better fit your style or project goals. Probably the most impressive and useful tool in my opinion.

For writers seeking an all-in-one productivity aid, Lex delivers. It’s particularly helpful for outlining or fleshing out ideas quickly. I could see Lex being a useful tool in brainstorming or drafting stages when used wisely. However, we’re going to move on to my main concern with Lex and most Ai writing assistants as a whole.

RIP Individuality

While Lex offers remarkable utility, my primary concern lies in what tools like this mean for the art of writing itself being the erosion of individual style.

When used sparingly, Lex is a fantastic collaborator. Keyword being “sparingly”. How many people will use it sparingly? The temptation to rely on AI for large swaths of text is undeniable, but in doing so, we risk losing the unique voices that define good writing.

To illustrate this concern, I experimented with Lex by beginning a short story:

My opening line:
“Deep in the recesses of an experimental laboratory, rows of cages can be found.”

Lex’s continuation:
“Within these cages, a colony of felines reside. These are no ordinary cats, however. They are the subjects of a groundbreaking experiment, where scientists seek to unravel the mysteries of genetic manipulation. With each passing day, the cats undergo a series of tests and procedures, their DNA meticulously analyzed and altered. The researchers are driven by a singular goal: to create a new breed of cat, one that possesses enhanced abilities and traits beyond the scope of their natural counterparts.”

On the surface, this continuation isn’t bad—it’s clear, grammatically sound, and flows logically. However, it’s unmistakably AI-generated. The tendency to “tell rather than show” is glaring. Instead of inviting readers into the story through evocative imagery or nuance, Lex provides a clinical summary, flattening the narrative.

This paragraph reads more like a report than an actual story, and, while serviceable, it lacks the depth and personality of human storytelling. Such patterns, if adopted uncritically, could homogenize creative writing, sacrificing artistry for efficiency. I have yet to see any AI writer tackle this concern successfully. Everything a computer spits out tends to sound the same or very similar to each other: bland, uncreative, and report-y. AI tends to be trained on articles and educational resources after all so no surprise there.

Conclusion

Lex is a powerful tool that can be a game-changer for writers, offering diverse features and has a great organization and presentation of said tools. For brainstorming, outlining, and rough drafting, perhaps it’s worth a try. But the ability to write large sections of text quickly can also be its biggest drawback and churn up a lot of concern.

Overall, I think as we incorporate AI into the writing process, we must remain vigilant and oh-so-cautious. Writing is more than putting words on a page despite what school might have taught us. It’s about crafting a voice, an atmosphere, and an experience for readers. Tools like Lex should be wielded with care, enhancing human creativity rather than replacing it. For now, Lex is an impressive companion but ABSOLUTELY not a replacement for the writer’s pen.

Thanks for taking the time read and take care, friends!

Unique Gift Ideas for the Writer in Your Life

~ Brooke F. ~ 6 Comments

Finding the perfect gift for the writer in your life can be as complex… annoying. I say this as a writer. It is very common that someone doesn’t know what to get me so I somehow end up with a tower of empty journals and an overflowing desk cup filled with new pens. I understand, it can be annoying to buy for us and sometimes one doesn’t know where to start when getting something thoughtful for the word-weaver in their family or friend group. Writers are often particular about their tools and tastes, but there’s a world of thoughtful, creative gifts beyond the basics that will make them feel truly understood. Here’s a guide to inspire your holiday shopping for the wordsmith you adore.

The Basics (But Make Them Fancy)

  1. Pens:
    Writers love pens, but gifting them a luxury pen—like a Lamy fountain pen or a weighted rollerball—can elevate their note-taking experience. Bonus points if you include a refill set in their favorite ink color!
  2. Journals:
    A writer can never have too many journals. Opt for a unique twist, such as leather-bound notebooks, journals with prompts, or eco-friendly options made from recycled materials.
  3. Books on Writing:
    Classics like On Writing by Stephen King or The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron are staples, but consider books on niche writing topics or even beautiful annotated versions of their favorite novels.

Step It Up: Gifts That Show You Truly Get Them

  1. Subscription Boxes for Writers:
    There are subscription services like Scribbler or The Writer’s Box that deliver curated goodies, writing prompts, and insider tips from published authors every month.
  2. Customized Writer’s Toolkit:
    Assemble a personalized kit with items like sticky notes, page flags, highlighters, and correction tape. Include a pouch or box engraved with their name or a quote about writing.
  3. Noise-Canceling Headphones or White Noise Machine:
    Whether they thrive in silence or need the soothing sound of rain, a tool to manage their audio environment can be invaluable for focused writing sessions.
  4. Specialty Coffee or Tea:
    Many writers are fueled by caffeine. Look for unique blends or quirky mugs (a typewriter-themed one, perhaps?). Add in a high-quality milk frother for the latte-loving wordsmith.
  5. Bookends or Shelf Accents:
    Help them organize their beloved writing books or display their work-in-progress stack with quirky bookends shaped like typewriters, quills, or punctuation marks.

Truly Unique Ideas for the Writer Who Has It All

  1. Custom-Made Book Cover Art:
    Writers with published or soon-to-be-published works will swoon over framed custom cover art of their book or even a faux cover design for their work-in-progress.
  2. A Writing Retreat Voucher:
    Gifting a weekend at a cozy cabin or a spot in a writing retreat program can give them the solitude and inspiration they need.
  3. Quirky Desk Accessories:
    Think vintage typewriter-inspired keyboards, literary-themed calendars, or even a tiny desktop hourglass to time writing sprints.
  4. Personalized Word Necklace or Bracelet:
    Have their favorite word, their own name, or the title of their book engraved on a piece of jewelry.
  5. A Masterclass Subscription:
    Access to workshops by renowned authors like Neil Gaiman or Margaret Atwood can be an incredible resource and a dream come true for many writers.
  6. Unique Inspiration Tools:
    Try something like the Rory’s Story Cubes or a deck of writing prompt cards to help spark creativity.
  7. Gift a Domain Name:
    If they don’t already have one, buying them a domain for their writing blog or portfolio is an incredibly thoughtful and practical gift.
  8. Customized Wax Seal Kit:
    For writers who enjoy a touch of old-world charm, a wax seal kit with their initials or a literary-themed emblem adds a personal touch to letters or notes.

Stocking Stuffers for the Literary-Minded

  1. Literary-themed socks, tote bags, or pins
  2. Magnetic poetry kits
  3. Tiny pocket dictionaries or thesauruses
  4. Bookplates with their name on them
  5. Candles inspired by books or writing (like “Library” or “Freshly Sharpened Pencils” scents)

Of course, these gifts and their usefulness will vary from person to person. However, I think this list is a great starting point or sparking inspiration for that special writer in your life. Whether they’re a poet, novelist, or someone just discovering their voice, there’s something here for every writer to inspire them and remind them that their craft is worth celebrating.

What’s the most creative gift you’ve ever given (or received) as a writer? Let me know in the comments!

Embracing the Cringe: Why Creating Is Worth the Risk

~ Brooke F. ~ 2 Comments

Why do I care what some strangers think???

I’ve been there, friends. Far too many times in fact. Staring at a piece of writing I’ve poured my heart into, hovering over the “Post” button, my stomach twisting. The thought runs rampant: What if people think this is weird? What if I’m awkward? What if this is…cringe?

Social media has given us a strange gift: the ability to share our creativity with a potentially massive audience. But alongside that gift comes the shadow of The Fear. The fear of being judged, of being misunderstood, or, quite possibly, being dismissed as “cringe.”

“Cringe” is potentially the ultimate insult in internet culture (at least as I see it as a creative). It implies that you’re trying too hard, caring too much, or daring to be earnest in a world that values ironic detachment. And when you create something as personal as a poem, a story, or a piece of art, putting it out there can feel like standing naked in a spotlight. There you are, lain bare. You want to be seen, but what if the crowd points and laughs?

I know this fear well because it’s held me back from sharing my own poetry. I love writing. It’s how I process life’s more difficult moments, capture fleeting emotions, and just overall express myself. But when it comes to posting a poem online, I freeze up. What if they think I’m pretentious? What if someone mocks me for using certain metaphors or for feeling something too deeply?

Here’s what I’ve realized, though: creating art isn’t about avoiding cringe. It is about embracing it.

Much of great art has, at some point, been considered cringe-worthy or at least wasn’t super appreciated in its time. Van Gogh’s bold, swirling strokes? Art of a talentless, crazy hack. The Beatles’ early love songs? Cheesy and dare I say, corny? Writing poetry and sharing it with the world takes guts because it’s vulnerable. It’s deeply personal. But that’s what makes it real.

If you spend your life avoiding the risk of being cringe, you also avoid the chance to connect with people. Because here’s the thing: for every person who might snicker at your poem or scroll past it, there’s another person out there who will feel seen. Your words and art could be exactly what they needed in that moment.

And, let’s be real, the alternative is even cringier. It’s cringy to hold back your creativity, to stifle your voice, to live in fear of what a bunch of strangers online might think. It’s cringy to not make something, to let fear make you boring and scared and silent.

So here’s my advice (to you and to me): Post the poem. Share the art. Write the awkward, heartfelt, overly-metaphorical thing and let it out into the world. Someone will cringe, sure. But someone else will care. And in the end, the world needs more people who dare to care.

I Used TikTok as a Slightly Out-of-Touch 20-Something, and Here’s What I Found

~ Brooke F. ~ 4 Comments

If you haven’t joined TikTok yet, you might be wondering: Should I? Maybe you’re feeling FOMO, or maybe your curiosity is piqued by all the buzz. Allow me to satisfy that curiosity and save you the download—it’s not worth it.

Don’t get me wrong, TikTok might’ve been a fun app in its heyday (circa two years ago). Back then, it seemed like a magical place where trends, humor, and creativity collided in glorious harmony. However, as of now, TikTok has become a shadow of its former self, buried under an avalanche of TikTok Shop promotions. Imagine scrolling through your feed, only to be hit with an endless parade of “must-have” items you didn’t ask for. No thanks.

Honestly? I’d rather wait for TikToks to trickle their way over to Instagram Reels, where I can actually enjoy them without feeling like I’m trapped in an infomercial. That’s the beauty of Instagram—it’s like the highlight reel of TikTok, minus the ads.

The (Few) Positives

I will admit, there’s one thing TikTok does better than Instagram: content creation. I found that TikTok’s video editing system is surprisingly intuitive and far superior to Instagram’s. Adding text, syncing to music, and playing with effects felt seamless. I actually enjoyed making videos, which is saying something for someone who only opens the app sporadically.

Speaking of sporadic use, my TikTok “routine” looks something like this:

  1. Open the app once in a blue moon.
  2. Film something fun or quirky (because why not?).
  3. Watch all the TikToks my sister or friends have sent me.
  4. Close the app and forget about it for another week (or two).

Why TikTok Isn’t My Thing

It’s not that TikTok isn’t fun. It’s just that it isn’t fun enough to outweigh the downsides. The sheer volume of ads, coupled with the temptation to waste hours scrolling, made the app feel more like a chore than a source of entertainment. Sure, I could see how it might become a massive time suck, but I never got there because the experience was too frustrating to stick around.

If you’re someone who’s already on TikTok and loves it, more power to you! But if you’re on the fence, take my advice: skip it. You’re not missing much.

Stick to Instagram Reels or good ol’ YouTube, where the best of TikTok inevitably ends up anyway. And if you ever get that itch to try TikTok for yourself? Just remember—your curiosity doesn’t need to be fed that badly.

But in the event you’re already addicted to the app, feel free to drop me a follow here.

Alrighty! Byeeee!

Would You Join a Cozy Writing Forum?

~ Brooke F. ~ 1 Comment

Hello, lovely readers!

I’ve been thinking a lot about how writers connect with each other online. Over the years, platforms like WordPress have been an amazing way to share thoughts, stories, and tips. Most of you drop by to read, and every now and then, someone leaves a comment that warms my heart. Honestly, I love this dynamic, and it’s perfectly fine if reading and moving on is your vibe.

But lately, I’ve been wondering: is there interest in something more community-oriented?

I’ve scrolled through countless writing forums, and while some are thriving, they tend to have huge memberships. That’s awesome for activity, but for me (and maybe for you?), it’s easy to feel lost in the crowd. I started thinking about what it would be like to build a smaller, more personal writing space—something cozy where everyone has a seat at the table.

Since I’m not ready to spend $300 a year upgrading my WordPress just to test this idea, I did a little digging and found freeforums.net, a platform that lets you create forums for free. It was so easy to set up (seriously, 10/10 recommend if you’ve ever thought about this yourself), and now… I have a forum ready to go! Here’s a quick preview:

I’ll introduce you to the spaces I’ve set up so far:

🪑 The Coffee Shop
This is the general hangout spot. Think casual chats, checking in on how everyone’s doing, and sipping virtual lattes while talking about anything and everything.

✍️ The Writing Lab
For technical discussions about writing. Need feedback on sentence structure? Want to debate the merits of first vs. third person? This is the place.

📚 The Library
Here, we’ll share what we’re reading or watching—whether it’s the latest bestseller, a nostalgic TV show, or an indie book you can’t stop thinking about.

🛍️ The Bookstore
A space to celebrate writing achievements, share self-published works, and recommend tools, resources, or books you love.

🏛️ The Town Hall
Where announcements, updates, and fun events (think writing challenges or contests) will live.

📌 The Bulletin Board
Looking for beta readers? Want to collaborate on a project? This is where networking happens.

🌳 The Park
A lighthearted zone for creative writing games, prompts, or exercises to spark inspiration. Also For those tough days when writer’s block hits or imposter syndrome creeps in. A safe place to vent, seek support, and remind yourself you’re not alone.

I’m genuinely curious—does this sound like a space you’d want to join? Or do you prefer to keep your writing life separate from structured communities? Either way, there’s no pressure!

I’ll include a poll below to get a feel for interest, but feel free to drop a comment, too. I’d love to hear your thoughts.

Poll: Would you join a cozy writing forum?

Whether the forum takes off or not, I’m just happy to keep connecting with you all here. Thank you for always making this space feel so welcoming.

Cheers!


The Art of Letting Go: When It’s Time to Move On from a Story Idea

~ Brooke F. ~ 2 Comments

As writers, we probably like to think of our ideas as precious gems, sparkling with potential and promise. But what happens when those gems start to feel like rocks weighing us down? Moving on from a story idea can feel like a betrayal. It can feel like we’re giving up on something that might have been great if only we’d tried harder. But, sadly, sometimes, letting go is the most freeing, productive decision we can make.

Recognizing When a Story Isn’t Serving You

Every writer knows the thrill of starting something new. It’s like falling in love—the endless possibilities, the bursts of creativity, the “this is going to be amazing” energy. But over time, that spark can dim.

Here are a few signs your story idea might not be serving you anymore:

  1. You’re Avoiding It: If you constantly find excuses to work on anything but your story, it’s worth asking why. Is it fear of failure, or are you genuinely uninterested? I will say the difficulty of this step comes from knowing the difference between writer’s block, intense procrastination, or a sign to actually quit.
  2. It Feels Like a Chore: Writing isn’t always fun, but it should bring some sense of purpose or joy. If working on your story feels like dragging yourself through quicksand, it may no longer align with your creative goals. Unfortunately, I reached this point editing down my second draft of my YA novel that was once so dear to me in high school. It no longer felt inspired and became just another task to chug through.
  3. The Idea No Longer Resonates: Maybe it felt groundbreaking when you first thought of it, but now you find yourself bored or disconnected from the concept. That’s okay—people grow, and so do creative tastes. Maybe you’re no longer writing the type of book you would read? Maybe it’s time to expand to something different (maybe even a different genre??).
  4. You’re Forcing It to Fit: If you’ve twisted your story idea so many times it feels unrecognizable, it might not be the right project for you at this moment. This also might be a sign that you’ve lost focus and you don’t know what you’re going for with this idea.

The Emotional Weight of Letting Go

For years, I told myself I’d go back to that first draft of a novel I finished in high school. It sat on my computer like a ghost of a dream—haunting me with the promise of what could have been. But every time I opened the document, I felt dread, not inspiration. The characters no longer felt like mine. The plot felt shallow. Worst of all, working on it felt like an obligation, not a passion.

I clung to it for far too long because I thought letting go meant failure. It took me years to realize that setting it aside wasn’t a sign of giving up—it was a step toward making space for stories I actually wanted to tell.

Gracefully Setting a Project Aside

Letting go doesn’t have to be dramatic or final. You don’t need to delete files or burn notebooks (unless you want to; dramatic gestures are valid). Here’s how to set a project aside with intention:

  1. Acknowledge Its Place in Your Journey: Every story idea, no matter how unfinished, has taught you something. Reflect on what this project gave you—new skills, insight, or even just a fun creative spark when you needed it.
  2. Give Yourself Permission: It’s okay to say, “This isn’t for me right now.” Writing is a personal journey, and it’s better to move on than to force yourself into creative misery.
  3. File It Away: You don’t have to toss the idea forever. Save your notes, drafts, and outlines. You might come back to it someday with fresh eyes—or never at all, and that’s fine too. Again, speaking from experience, I deleted way too many old drafts out of shame and now wish I had them on hand. I’d love to see how far I’ve come.
  4. Celebrate the Space You’ve Made: By letting go, you’re freeing yourself for new, exciting projects that align with who you are now, not who you were when the idea first came to you. The possibilities are endless!

Moving Forward

Writing is an ever-evolving process. Just because an idea didn’t work out doesn’t mean you’re a bad writer or that you wasted time. It means you’re growing.

So if you’ve been holding onto a story that feels more like a burden than a joy, ask yourself: Is this serving me? If the answer is no, it might be time to let go. And when you do, know that you’re not giving up—you’re moving forward.

What about you? Have you ever had to let go of a story idea? What did that process look like for you? Let’s chat in the comments—I’d love to hear your thoughts!

Take care friends & Happy Thanksgiving!

Minimalist Poetry: Lazy, Uninspired, or Genius?

~ Brooke F. ~ Leave a comment

Minimalist poetry is a curious art form. On one hand, its simplicity can be breathtaking, distilling complex emotions into a few perfectly chosen words. On the other, it can sometimes feel like it crosses the line from evocative to, well, lazy. The debate on whether minimalist poetry is inspired or just minimal effort has only grown with the rise of social media.

One of the most famous examples of minimalist storytelling is often attributed to Ernest Hemingway, though its authorship is debated:

“For sale: baby shoes, never worn.”

Six words. That’s it. And yet those six words pack an emotional punch that lingers far longer than some novels. The story leaves gaps, but in a deliberate way. We, as readers, fill those gaps, and in doing so, we become co-creators of the story’s meaning. The economy of language isn’t a flaw here; it’s the whole point.

This, in my opinion, is minimalist poetry at its best. It’s clever, intentional, and layered. The writer has done their job by crafting a framework that invites you into its world, offering just enough to ignite your imagination.

But then there’s the other side of minimalist poetry, the kind that’s been popularized by Instagram and TikTok poets. These poems, while often beautifully packaged in neat fonts and pretty backdrops, sometimes feel hollow. They can be so sparse that they rely almost entirely on the reader to find meaning where there may not have been much intention.

I’ll admit, I’ve spent far too long scrolling through Instagram poets’ pages, trying to glean the mass appeal of their work, but more often than not, I just don’t get the hype. Atticus, one of the most well-known Instagram poets, is a prime example. His work is often beautifully presented—each poem feels like it’s been carefully curated for aesthetic appeal. But when I read the actual words, I sometimes find myself wondering: Is this it?

Take this Atticus poem, for instance:

“She conquered her demons
and wore her scars
like wings.”

Now, this isn’t necessarily a bad poem. It’s empowering, and I’m sure it resonates deeply with many people. But does it feel crafted? To me, it’s a nice sentiment wrapped in poetic phrasing, but it lacks the depth and precision that truly memorable poetry offers. It’s easy to read, easy to share, and looks great on a Pinterest board—but does it challenge or linger in the reader’s mind?

Or take a hypothetical minimalist poem like:

“The sky is blue.
I feel, too.”

Is it poetry? Sure. Is it meaningful? It could be, depending on how the reader interprets it. But at some point, I think the burden of creating meaning needs to be shared more evenly between the poet and the reader.

So, is that a problem?

I think it depends on how much work you believe the reader should put into the process of poetry. In some ways, all poetry is a collaboration between the writer and the reader. Even a densely worded, highly descriptive poem leaves room for interpretation—it’s part of what makes poetry so powerful. But minimalist poetry amplifies that collaborative element, sometimes to the point where the writer’s role feels diminished.

At its best, minimalist poetry uses its sparseness to make every word essential. The space between the words isn’t empty; it’s charged with meaning. At its worst, it can feel like the poet handed you a blank page and said, “Figure it out.”

Social media has undoubtedly democratized poetry, which is a beautiful thing. But it has also encouraged a kind of fast-food poetry, where pieces are churned out quickly for likes and shares. Some of these poems are deeply moving, proving that a few well-placed words can touch hearts around the globe. Others feel more like placeholders, banking on the reader’s goodwill to imbue them with meaning.

Ultimately, whether minimalist poetry is lazy or inspired comes down to intention and execution. If the poet has truly worked to make each word count, the results can be stunning. If they’ve used minimalism as a shortcut, it shows.

For readers and writers alike, the challenge is to discern the difference. Everyone’s answers are going to be different of course. That is the fun (and sometimes irritation) when it comes to art.

Welp, I think that’s all my thoughts on the matter. Thanks for listening and feel free to continue the dialogue in the comments. Do you enjoy minimalist poetry? Are you perhaps more brilliant than me and understand the hype? Or do you have similar concerns with lazy, (and often) formulaic art appearing more and more mainstream? Am I actually just a pompous jerk who is overly critical (also perhaps).

The Over-acceptance of Introversion: When to Know When You’re Just Being a Bad Friend

~ Brooke F. ~ 2 Comments

This post is a little different from my usual topics. It’s not some big epiphany, just a thought that’s been bouncing around in my head for a while. As someone who enjoys overthinking (a core introvert trait, we all know it), I couldn’t shake this idea. So, here we are. Let’s talk about introversion, friendships, and whether some behaviors we attribute to being “introverted” are actually… kind of selfish.

This train of thought started when I stumbled across one of those relatable memes. Yaknow the type. Something that went along the lines of : “I don’t want to go, but I do want to be invited. Lol, introverts, am I right?” At first, I chuckled, because I could relate. But then I started reflecting on what it’s really saying. Is this just a funny nod to introverted tendencies, or does it normalize putting minimal effort into our friendships? Cue the over thinking due to a relatively harmless online post.

The more I thought about it, the more it reminded me of a situation from my late high school and early college years. Back then, my close friend and I loved organizing activities for our friend group. Bowling nights, game days, holiday parties—you name it, we planned it. We weren’t just trying to have fun; we genuinely enjoyed bringing everyone together.

But more often than not, it ended up being just the two of us. Our friends, though kind and fun in their own right, rarely showed up. The reasons varied. Some excuses were totally valid—homework, work shifts, family obligations. But over time, it became clear that many simply didn’t prioritize showing up. A few even admitted they “liked being invited” but never had any intention of coming.

At the time, it was frustrating. We’d put in all this effort, only to feel like the rest of the group didn’t care enough to reciprocate. It stung, but life moved on, and so did we. Now, years removed from those memories, I look back without resentment. Those friends weren’t bad people—they were just young, busy, and maybe a little unaware of how their actions came across.

Still, that experience planted a seed in my mind only to be watered by a random Instagram post on a random Tuesday. The memes and “relatable” posts about introverts avoiding plans or ghosting their friends in the name of self-care make me pause. Are we glorifying a healthy need for recharge time, or are we excusing bad friendship behaviors?

Here’s the thing: self-care is important. Recharge time is vital. Life gets busy and overwhelming, and sometimes, skipping plans is the right choice for your mental health. But if every plan becomes your recharge time, you’re not just protecting your peace—you’re neglecting your friendships.

Good friendships require effort. Showing up matters. And showing up only when the whim strikes you? That doesn’t make you a good friend. Sure, you have the right to set boundaries. But if you consistently flake, cancel, or avoid participating, maybe it’s time to reassess what you can realistically give to your friendships. I maybe it’s significantly less than it once was?

If that’s the case, the kinder thing to do is to be honest with yourself—and with your friends. Let them know if your capacity to maintain the friendship has changed. It’s far better than leading someone on to believe you want to stay close, only to repeatedly let them down when it comes time to show up.

Here’s the plot twist (that almost everyone knows): I am an introvert. A big one. I thrive on alone time, I love my cozy evenings at home, and I sometimes dread leaving my bubble. I’ve canceled more plans than I care to admit. But I’ve also been on the other side of this equation—the one doing the planning, hoping people will show up. And that’s given me a deep appreciation for the balance between respecting my own needs and respecting my relationships.

It’s not about guilt-tripping yourself into saying yes to every invite or sacrificing your mental health for others. It’s about being intentional. Being an introvert doesn’t give us a free pass to neglect the people who care about us. If anything, it challenges us to communicate better, show up when it counts, and be honest about what we can give.

So, the next time you’re tempted to laugh off a missed gathering with, “Lol, introverts, am I right?” take a moment to think about what that really means. Are you protecting your peace, or are you unintentionally letting your friends down? Because the truth is, being an introvert doesn’t mean we don’t care about our friendships. It just means we have to work a little harder to show it.

Hopefully you found this post useful in some way. I suppose in some ways, it could be considered a little mini-rant. More than anything, I think it’s a reflection and I hope it makes you reflect too, whether you’re an introvert like me or a big planner who relates to the feelings of disappointment when no one shows. Just know you’re not alone!

Take care, friends, and thanks for reading!

The Great Writing Recalibration: Navigating the Role of Writing in Adulthood

~ Brooke F. ~ 3 Comments

For many young writers, the identity of “writer” takes root early. In grade school or high school, it’s easy to dream big and write even bigger. Stories pour out effortlessly between homework assignments, and the dream of publishing a novel or becoming the next great poet feels within reach. Writing becomes a cornerstone of self-expression, a part of who you are. Then, adulthood arrives like an unexpected plot twist, and suddenly, the words stop flowing.

I like to call this phenomenon The Great Writing Recalibration. It’s not just writer’s block in the traditional sense—the frustration of not finding the right words or ideas. It’s the struggle of figuring out where writing fits into the bigger picture of your life. Is it a fleeting phase? An on-and-off-again hobby? A consistent passion? A side hustle? Or is it the full-time job you’ve always dreamed of?

You’re not a failure, okay? We’re all having a hard time here….

The Great Writing Recalibration often begins when you hit the gauntlet of adulthood—new responsibilities, time constraints, and a world that demands practicality. Suddenly, writing no longer feels effortless or essential. The hours you once spent dreaming up stories might now go to a 9-to-5 job, errands, or simply catching your breath. Writing gets pushed to the back burner, and for some, it’s a bitter pill to swallow.

I know, because I’ve been there. For years, I felt like a writing failure. I had proudly finished the first draft of my novel, only to let it sit and collect dust for three years. I’d talk about how I was “working on it” or how I was “so close to finishing,” but deep down, I didn’t want to work on it. It felt like a chore. Each time I sat down to write, it was as though I was forcing myself to relive a version of me that no longer existed—the high school writer who poured her heart into this draft.

Looking back, I realize part of the problem was that I hadn’t considered the possibility that I simply needed a break from writing or that my old stories didn’t speak to me anymore. I didn’t give myself permission to grow beyond them. I was holding onto an idea of what writing “should” be in my life, instead of asking myself what I actually wanted it to be.

The key realization here is that a lack of time reveals priorities. This is not a bad thing—it’s simply life asking you to reassess what matters most. If you’ve always defined yourself as a “writer” but now find that writing has slipped down your list of priorities, that’s okay. It doesn’t mean you’re less creative or that you’ve “lost” something. It means you’re growing up, figuring out who you are, and redefining what you want.

The tricky part is coming to peace with this recalibration. For many, it feels easier to cling to the idea of being a writer and blame an ongoing “writer’s block” for not producing anything. But if months—or even years—pass without the drive to write, it’s worth asking yourself: What role does writing truly play in my life?

If it’s a hobby you love but don’t feel the need to commit to, that’s perfectly valid. If you still dream of making writing a central part of your career, then finding time to nurture it—even in small ways—is essential. And if it’s something that fades from your life entirely, only to resurface years later, that’s okay too. Writing doesn’t demand permanence; it only asks for honesty.

The truth is, adulthood is full of recalibrations. We struggle to define not only writing’s place in our lives but also our very sense of self. And in that process, the role of writing might shift, expand, or contract. Embracing that change—rather than resisting it—can help you move forward without guilt or regret.

The Great Writing Recalibration isn’t a sign of failure. It’s a chance to reflect on your passions, priorities, and evolving identity. Writing will always be there, waiting for you, in whatever role you choose for it. So take the time to decide, and remember: it’s okay if the words come and go, as long as you’re at peace with what you’ve written into the story of your life.

Keep writing, friends! Or don’t! It’s all okay!

The Twitter Experiment: Is It a Good Platform for Writers?

~ Brooke F. ~ 4 Comments

Ah, Twitter. The home of 280-character rants, controversy, and the occasional cat meme that restores your faith in humanity. But amidst the tweets, retweets, and hashtags, is Twitter actually helpful for us writers? I really didn’t know the answer to this question so I struck out to answer it for myself. And so here we are- me writing this post to share with you my findings and observations. Let’s break down the pros, cons, and along with a bit of my own Twitter escapade to see if this bird app deserves a place on your bookmarks bar or app homepage.

The Ups

Networking Like a Pro
Twitter connects you to a world of agents, publishers, and fellow writers that might otherwise be impossible to reach. Think of it as your literary networking cocktail party, where you can rub elbows with people you respect and admire without the actual pressure of elbow-rubbing. You can follow your favorite authors, ask questions, or even have the odd chance of interacting with a big-name editor. If you’re looking to build a network of writing buddies and potential mentors, Twitter definitely has the reach.

Possible Feedback on Your Work
Twitter is also a great testing ground. Have a line you’re unsure of? A tiny snippet you’re kind of proud of but want some feedback on? Post it. Writers love to share and support each other on Twitter, so you can get responses on tiny samples of your writing. Just don’t post too much—you want to avoid giving away too much of a work-in-progress!

A Constant Feed of Inspiration
Thanks to #WritingCommunity and #AmWriting hashtags (tags not limited to twitter alone one should note), Twitter provides a steady stream of advice, tips, prompts, and writing-related memes that will either make you laugh, sigh, or just plain inspire. Whether it’s celebrating a 50k word count or the struggle to write two sentences, Twitter’s got a solidarity vibe that’s comforting. It really feels like you’re not alone in this whole writing thing and that’s neat and definitely earns twitter a few brownie points.

Promo Without the Sales-y Feel
If you’re a self-published writer or have a new book out, Twitter’s a good place for quick, casual promotion. Just don’t overdo it. Twitter works best when you focus on sharing and interacting rather than constantly pitching your own work. (People might get off-put if your profile is 90% self-promo.)

The Downs

So many opinions
Twitter can be an echo chamber where everyone has an opinion (and are not at all shy about sharing it). Writers (ahaha me) can get bogged down by what’s trending and feel like they need to shape their stories or characters to fit popular discussions. So if you’re easily influenced or find it hard to stay true to your style, Twitter can sometimes veer into counterproductive territory. People are VERY vocal on twitter and that can be overwhelming if you’re an overthinking personality like me. Yes, advice is wonderful but I think there is such a thing as advice overconsumption/intake. It would be really easy to hype fixate on the wellspring of advice and opinions that are available on Twitter. One thing I had to remind myself and that I’ll remind you of too is this simple fact: Not all writing tips/advice is meant for you. It is, however, up to you to parse out what is helpful and what is not and that takes energy for sure.

And so here is my advice to you if you choose to embark on your own twitter escapade: follow a few writers that you look up to and wish to emulate and follow them along with a few publishing companies and agents that you are interested in. Then go from there. This will help you from being TOO bogged down by advice and opinions that may or may not apply to you.

Algorithm Struggles and Follow Fatigue (ugh, another algorithm to keep up with??)
Growing your following on Twitter as a writer can be a real pain. The platform seems to favor viral content, and if you’re not constantly tweeting or getting engagement, your posts can sink fast. If you’ve ever tweeted something that was pure genius (in your humble opinion) only to get… crickets… you’re not alone. The algorithm’s quirks mean that building an audience is often slow, which can feel demoralizing if you’re there to share your writing with the world and the world doesn’t seem like it’s ready to listen quite yet. Of course, just like with anything, give it time and be consistent and result will likely follow. I’m going to be honest, that seems to be the most consistent thing among all these social medias I have reviews. Instant results are not really likely. You have to play the game first and you might see success after awhile of constant posting.

The Temptation to Chase Virality

We’ve all heard stories of tweets going viral and driving tons of engagement to people’s work But here’s the unfortunate reality check: it’s rare. Trying to go viral can feel like chasing after a breeze. Not only is it unpredictable, but it can also become an obsession that takes up way too much time. As I stated in the previous paragraph, rather than aiming for that one breakout tweet, Twitter can be better as a slow-and-steady kind of thing. Build relationships, engage, and post content. Rinse. Repeat. Viral success might never come, but if you’re focused on finding a real community, you won’t mind as much. Make sure you goals and focus are realistic and clear when it comes to Twitter (or any social media for that matter).

The Verdict

So here’s where I landed. Twitter, like most social medias, is a mixed bag. I think it serves it’s purpose best as a means to connect with the broader writing community and keep up with what people in your specific genre are looking for. It’s also great for stoking discussion and inviting people to have a discussion with you or even just commiserate. I think that’s where it stops however. Twitter content must be short, snappy, and (mostly) to the point and doesn’t leave room for sharing bigger works though you can definitely use it to tease something.

So, if you’re a social butterfly, writing trend enthusiast (or simply just want to keep up-to-date on the writing market in general), or are a one-liner genius, Twitter might be for you! If you’re a long-form content writer like the beloved Tolkien or have little to no interest in muddling your head with the fleeting trends of our time, don’t worry about it. Not all discussions or engagement is healthy or fruitful for oneself. There’s no shame in that (it’s sort of like reading the news. Sometimes I don’t want to know everything going on!). Personally, I think I’ll leave twitter be for the time being, perhaps picking it up when I ready to engage with the fun (albeit sometimes messy) chaos of the writing world.

And I think that’s a wrap. Thanks for stopping by!