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

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?

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

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

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?

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!

Magic Schools to Feminist Retellings: A Retrospective on Writing Trends

A Retrospective Look at Writing and Book Trends: From Magic Schools to Feminist Retellings

If you’ve been reading books for, well, any amount of time, then you’ve probably noticed that certain trends in literature pop up like clockwork—sometimes for a few years, sometimes a little longer, but they’re always there. And as much as we try to resist it, we find ourselves falling into the hype. We all know that one trend we swore we wouldn’t get into, and then suddenly we’re 200 pages deep into a series about people who can control fire and water and possibly have a secret underground society. It’s fine, it’s normal.

So, in the spirit of nostalgia and bookish trends that once ruled the shelves, let’s take a trip down memory lane. Here’s a look at some of the most notable writing trends of the past, separated by the years when they were super prevalent. Buckle up, it’s about to get trend-tastic.

2000s: Magic Schools & Faction Fandoms

Ah, the early 2000s. It was a simpler time, before social media ate up all our free time. But books—oh, books were living their best life. If you weren’t reading Harry Potter, were you even reading? Seriously though, J.K. Rowling kicked off the magic school trend, and the world fell in love with Hogwarts, wands, and wizarding wars. It was like we all went to school with Harry, Hermione, and Ron, even if we were just hanging out in our living rooms with a cup of tea. And don’t get me started on the sorting hat. Suddenly, was finding out what house they were (if you weren’t Gryffindor, well, we’ll talk about it later) along with their Patronus, their wand and… well.. you get the idea.

But Hogwarts wasn’t the only magical academy out there. And let’s not forget the “Team Edward vs. Team Jacob” phenomenon that was Twilight. Was it fantasy? Was it supernatural? Was it… a lot of emotional turmoil over the fate of Bella Swan? Whatever it was, it had people choosing sides.

If it’s not clear, The early 2000s were dominated by the rise of books where characters were sorted into distinct factions. Presenting factions based on personality traits became another way for readers to ask themselves, “Which one would I belong to?” and effectively engage the reader. These sorting systems didn’t just reflect different aspects of identity; they also gave readers a sense of belonging in the fictional world.

2010s: The Post-Apocalyptic Dystopia Takeover

Fast forward to the 2010s, and suddenly, we were all obsessed with the end of the world. Everyone was either fighting in a deadly arena or surviving some government-imposed dystopian nightmare. And honestly, who could blame us? The Hunger Games was literally all the rage. We couldn’t get enough of Katniss Everdeen, bow and arrow in hand, fighting for her life (and also fighting for her place in that love triangle that we didn’t need but somehow loved anyway).

But it wasn’t just Katniss—there was Maze Runner, where kids with amnesia were running from giant creepy monsters in a maze. And don’t forget Divergent (yes, it fits both categories. No wonder it was so popular), where people were divided into factions based on their personalities- wait I definitely talked about this already. These books sparked a whole trend of dystopian universes where our protagonists had to rise up against an unjust government, typically after some sort of catastrophic event. We were all about survival, rebellion, and… romance, of course.

Late 2010s: Fairytale Retellings, Because Who Doesn’t Love a Reboot?

Then, just when we thought we couldn’t take any more life-or-death stakes, fairytale retellings came swooping in. It was like, “Why read the same old fairytales when you could read them again—but with a twist?” Enter The Lunar Chronicles, which took Cinderella, Little Red Riding Hood, and others, and threw them into a world of cyborgs, androids, and space missions. It was like the fairytale we kind of knew, but with lasers and intergalactic politics.

But let’s be real, it wasn’t just science fiction authors having fun with fairytales. Writers like Sarah J. Maas and Holly Black started blending folklore and mythology with darker, more adult themes, serving up stories full of magic, romance, and the kind of characters who may or may not have committed some morally questionable acts. I’m not saying we were all suddenly into faeries, but maybe we were all suddenly into faeries.

2020s: Feminist Mythological Retellings—Let’s Give the Women Their Due

Now, we’re in the age of feminist mythological retellings, and I’ve got to say, I’m here for it. Sure, Percy Jackson brought Greek mythology into the mainstream, but now we’re diving deeper into the stories of the women who’ve been left out of the traditional narratives. Think Circe by Madeline Miller, where we finally get to hear the story of the infamous witch from the Odyssey, and she’s not just some villain. She’s complicated, which (hopefully) makes her way more interesting.

And we’re seeing it everywhere, from Ariadne by Jennifer Saint to Lore by Alexandra Bracken, where the women in myth aren’t just being swept aside by the men—they’re fighting back. They’re reclaiming their stories, and it’s pretty epic. These retellings give the female figures of myth the depth and agency they deserve. Though whether or not it’s done effectively is up for debate in the reading community.

Honorable Mentions: Other Trends That Came and Went

Some trends were like that one hit song we all loved for a summer, but by next year, we couldn’t remember the lyrics. A few notable mentions:

  • Vampires, Werewolves, and Supernatural Romance (2000s-2010s): The Twilight era sparked a frenzy over all things supernatural. Vampires, werewolves, and the eternal, beloved, and ENTIRELY necessary love triangle. It was a phase, okay? But also, apparently not, because love triangles would go on to become prominent plot point in YA media from thence forth.
  • Grimdark Fantasy (2010s): If you wanted to dive into a world where everything was bleak, brutal, and morally ambiguous, this was your moment. Books like Game of Thrones, Six of Crows and The Broken Empire filled our need for complex, gray-area characters who weren’t afraid to get their hands dirty. It was kind of like if your favorite character was a mix of a hero and someone you shouldn’t trust, but you loved them anyway. And probably hated them too. But in a good way.
  • YA Thrillers (2010s): After the success of Gone Girl, and The Girl on the Train, the YA thriller market exploded. Suddenly, everyone was reading books about murder, mystery, and figuring out who was really the bad guy—which, let’s be honest, made for some super intense reading sessions. The most recent success in this genre that I can think of is Where the Crawdad’s Sing.

So… What’s Next?

While we can never be sure what trend will take over next, one thing’s for sure: books will always change and evolve. Whether it’s more retellings of ancient myths, something completely new, or perhaps another wave of dystopian chaos (honestly, who can say?), there will always be something to capture our imaginations.

What do you think? Are we due for a new trend? Or are we all just hanging out in the land of retellings and myth for the foreseeable future? Drop a comment! I’d love to hear your thoughts on this very important and pressing matter.

Can Pinterest Actually Help Your Writing?

Welcome to a writer’s guide to Pinterest where I plan to discuss the good, the bad, the pretty. (I’m sorry, I love this tag line format, okay?) And rest assured, as someone who has dumped many, MANY hours that I cannot get back into this social media app, I am an expert on this matter.

Pinterest is where I go to build my dream library, organize my “writing room” ideas, and pin cute coffee shops I probably won’t visit but love to look at. As a writer, Pinterest has been an absolute gem for inspiration; you could almost call it a mood board for my entire brain. But as far as promoting my writing? Well, let’s just say Pinterest isn’t quite built to send people flooding to your latest blog post or novella.

Here’s the scoop on how Pinterest can actually help (and where it kind of misses the mark).

The Good: The Perks of Pinterest for Writers

  1. An Endless Well of Inspiration (Literally, It’s Bottomless)
    If you’re ever stuck on a writing project, Pinterest is the perfect place to scroll through photos of foggy forests, vintage journals, and other people’s aesthetically pleasing bookshelves. The platform is a visual feast, which makes it amazing for building storyboards or getting character inspiration. Dreamy landscape? They’ve got you covered. You’ll be drowning in imagery before you even get through the first page of your search.
  2. Organizing Writing Ideas Like a Pro
    Pinterest boards are a lifesaver when it comes to keeping track of all those ideas we want to come back to someday. Want to keep that list of dialogue ideas, character profiles, or writing prompts handy? Just pin it! In a way, Pinterest lets us organize our creativity, which is both refreshing and slightly magical (especially if you’re like me and tend to misplace things…like ideas).
  3. Perfect for Building an Aesthetic (Hello, Vibes!)
    Whether your story is set in a gloomy castle or a sunny seaside town, Pinterest boards let you curate a “vibe” that can bring your creative world to life. You can find everything from historical costumes to quirky cafes, and it all adds a splash of personality to your work—even if it’s only for you to look at. Sometimes, having that mood board handy is just what you need to get into the writing groove.

The Bad: The Downsides of Pinterest for Writers

  1. Driving Traffic to Your Work? Not So Much
    Here’s the thing: people on Pinterest are mainly looking for visuals and ideas, not links to blog posts. Most users are there to save images, maybe jot down a few notes, and then go on their merry way. I’ve pinned some of my writing work before, but it’s rare for people to follow an image all the way to an actual article or story. Pinterest is more about the “aesthetic save” than the “click-through,” so don’t expect it to be a major traffic source.
  2. Lack of Community Engagement
    Pinterest is not the place to chat, bond over writing struggles, or get feedback on your work. There are no extensive comment sections where people are swapping tips or sharing the same cozy creative space you might find on other platforms. Truth be told, they DO have a comments section on individual pins but it’s not laid out very well nor is it heavily used among the platform’s users. Pinterest is more of a solo mission; everyone’s there for their own pins and projects, so if you’re looking for a writing community, look elsewhere.
  3. It Can Become a Time Sink (Oops)
    Pinterest may look harmless, but let’s not kid ourselves—it’s a gateway to spending hours pinning everything under the sun without actually writing. There’s so much content that it’s easy to fall into the “one more scroll” trap, especially when it feels like you’re being productive. At some point, it’s best to stop pinning and start typing. (Believe me, I speak from experience here, ok.)

The Verdict: Is It Worth It?
If you’re in need of visuals or inspiration, Pinterest is fantastic and I highly recommend it. With your own private library of images to draw from, it can make the writing process a lot more fun as well as help you visualize things you’re struggling to picture yourself. Just don’t rely on it for promotion, because Pinterest users are likely just passing through.

Happy pinning (and happy actually writing, too)!

Trials, Tribulations, And Self-Publishing: KDP Review (sort of)

So, I did a thing: I self-published a poetry book! Cue the happy tears, celebratory confetti, and… me furiously googling “how to fix image formatting errors.” However, that latter part could be my own hubris. Spoiler alert: my poetry book isn’t just any old text—it’s packed with images. Yep, we’re talking multimedia poetry, so my struggles might have been amped up a notch because I decided to get fancy with visuals. What can I say? I am a wee bit too extra for my own good but I’m committed so here we are.

The Interesting Journey of Formatting

Now, Kindle Direct Publishing (KDP) has its own formatting tool, which requires you to download an app to your computer. It’s manageable…in the way that driving a stick shift for the first time is “manageable.” Since my book was 90% images, the Word document transfer option wasn’t exactly reassuring—KDP’s warning about “potential formatting errors” didn’t sound like a good time. So, I went with their Kindle app and got straight to work.

After a few afternoons of playing around in KDP’s software, I figured out how to get my images where I wanted them and things looked halfway decent. Not bad for my first try at book formatting. HOWEVER that doesn’t mean it didn’t have its annoying moments. Every single time I updated one image, I’d have to double-check the rest, because it seemed like one change would throw off the entire balance of the layout. I felt like I was doing an elaborate game of digital Jenga.

Would I recommend Kindle Direct Publishing to anyone looking to self-publish a poetry book with multimedia elements? Yes. But… let’s just say, expect a little struggle. If you’re like me, and you want to mix poetry with visual elements, just know that formatting is a time-sucking beast you’ll need to tame.

The Great Cover Design Showdown: KDP vs. Canva

KDP does offer a cover design tool, which is fine if you’re going for something simple, but simple ended up looking like a high school PowerPoint. So, I migrated to Canva, where I could actually add flair, colors, and fonts that suited the vibe of a multimedia poetry book. Canva: 1, Kindle Cover Tool: 0.

(Psst. Cover design pictured below):

The End Result

Overall, the process was worth it—I loved bringing my poems and images together in one project. Sure, it was a little clunky, but hey, seeing my work all shiny and official was worth every “Oh, not again” moment. So, if you’re thinking about self-publishing, especially with multimedia, I say go for it! Just don’t forget Canva—and maybe take a few deep breaths (And a cup of coffee) before tackling the formatting.

All that being said, my tiny little science inspired multimedia poetry book has been sent out into the world! I can’t really complain to be honest. It was a fun little venture I must say. I also think it was the perfect introduction for me for the world of Kindle Direct Publishing. My book was small (what’s known as a chapbook) so while the formatting felt like it took awhile, I can’t imagine how much longer it would have taken if I published a full-scale poetry book.. which reminds me.

I’d love to do this again.

Probably with a full length poetry. But don’t worry! I probably won’t go the multimedia route (at least for now anyways). Personally, I would love to try my hand at some more traditional poetry but we’ll just have to see where the creative winds take me from here. Thanks for reading and if your morbid curiosity gets the best of you and you have a few bucks to burn, here’s a link to my little project.

Thanks for following along!

Dark Academia, BookTok, and the Rise of Pretend Readers and Writers

We’ve all seen it. The cozy, curated bookshelf perfectly displayed in the background of an Instagram post. The morning coffee next to an antique-looking journal, pens neatly arranged, ready for creative genius. The aesthetic of “being a writer” has become so commonplace it’s practically a meme. And for a while, I fell for it. Hard. I thought I could just step into the mold of being a “dark academia” enthusiast, channel my inner mysterious intellectual, and instantly become a better writer.

And no, I didn’t just stop at buying a couple of vintage blazers or considering how many old books could fit into my perfectly styled bookshelf. Oh, no. I wanted more. I envisioned a life filled with vintage stationery, my writing desk cluttered with typewriters, antique books, and candles to match the vibe. I even fantasized about changing my wardrobe entirely to fit the look. Because, apparently, if you look like a writer, you are one, right?

But then something happened. I realized that I was more interested in creating the perfect aesthetic than in actually doing the thing I was supposedly passionate about. At some point, I paused, looked around, and asked myself, “When was the last time I actually sat down and wrote a story? And more importantly, when was the last time I ENJOYED the process?”

The answer? It had been way too long.

And here lies the problem: aesthetic can sometimes eclipse substance, especially in the realm of writing and reading. With social media platforms like Instagram and TikTok offering a constant stream of perfectly crafted book recommendations, it’s so easy to fall into the trap of thinking that if you curate the right images, use the right hashtags, or post the right “reading corner” content, you somehow become a reader or writer. It’s the illusion of accomplishment without the actual work.

Take, for example, the BookTok phenomenon. While the community has certainly brought attention to books in a way that’s fantastic for some authors, there’s a darker side to this trend that needs to be talked about. Many BookTokers proudly show off their massive book collections, talk about how they love reading, yet in some cases, by their own admission, they skim books with long descriptions and skip straight to the dialogue. They complain to their audience that the book in question calls them to, in fact, read. There’s no real engagement with the material, no deep dive into literary analysis. It’s just the act of being a reader that counts. These BookTokers have “the look” down to a science – their bookshelves are gorgeous, their reading glasses stylish, their curated bookshelf photos scream “book lover,” but when you actually look at their reading habits? It’s a different story.

I’ve had personal conversations with friends who have immaculate bookshelves, whose collections I envy and admire, only to hear them admit they struggle to read physical books now that they’re adults. Life, responsibilities, and other distractions get in the way, and the joy they once found in reading simply isn’t there anymore. One of my friends confessed that she hasn’t read as much as she used to, and when she does, it’s via audiobooks – which is totally valid, of course. But the fact that the aesthetic of her being a bookworm was so ingrained in my head that this fact surprised me goes

It’s not just the reading habits that have been impacted by social media culture – it’s the writing too. We’ve all heard people describe themselves as “writers,” and yet when it comes down to it, they’ve never actually written a word, or if they have, they treat it like a hobby to post about rather than a craft they genuinely invest in. They enjoy the idea of being a writer more than the act of writing itself. I was once there, chasing after the idea of being the writer, making sure my writing-related content looked good on my feed, all while avoiding the actual process of putting words on paper. Because, let’s face it, the aesthetic of being a writer is a lot more comfortable than the challenge of writing itself.

This leads me to my conclusion: the rise of pseudowriters and pseudoreaders is a direct result of the social media culture we find ourselves in. We can fall into the trap of curating an image of ourselves, of building a persona online that seems like we fit the mold of the artist or intellectual. But deep down, we might not even be engaging with the thing we claim to love. And honestly, there’s no shame in that. The shame comes when we let ourselves believe that looking like a writer or reader is enough to actually be one. It’s easy to get swept up in these trends and lose sight of the fact that writing isn’t about the clothes we wear or the books we pose with – it’s about the words we write and the stories we tell.

The real takeaway here is that it’s okay to step away from the aesthetic sometimes. It’s okay to redefine what being a writer or reader means for you. You don’t have to fit a certain mold or maintain a curated online persona. What matters is whether or not you are truly engaging with your craft, whether you’re reading because you love it, or writing because you want to. And if the aesthetic happens to come along with it? Great. But it shouldn’t be the reason you do what you do.

So, let’s focus less on how we look as writers and readers and more on whether we’re actually enjoying the process. Don’t be afraid to put down the fancy stationery and pick up the pen. If it’s not working, change your approach. But never, ever let the aesthetic of it all replace the substance.

A Guide to Instagram for Writers: The Good, The Bad, and the Draining

Is a picture really worth a thousand words? Well, we aim to analyze that very thing today as I walk you through what it’s like to use Instagram as a writer. If you’ve some much as even glanced at Instagram, you’ve probably noticed it seems to the hotspot for creatives. I mean, it’s basically one giant virtual gallery of coffee cups, open books, and people with serious-looking headshots writing snappy, one line poems. But is it actually useful for writers trying to build their craft and audience, or just another time-suck we justify as “networking”? Spoiler: it’s a little bit of both.

So here’s the full rundown of using Instagram as a writer—complete with highs, lows, and plenty of aesthetic pressure.

The Good: The Highlights of Instagram for Writers

  1. Connections, Encouragement, and the Validation of Strangers
    Instagram is kind of like the local open-mic night—someone will always clap, even if you just read your grocery list (as long as you use enough hashtags of course). Through hashtags like #WritingCommunity and #AmWriting, you can find other writers to cheer you on and remind you that yes, there are people out there who care deeply about your haiku on existential dread. Plus, it’s a safe bet that people will comment something nice on your posts, even if it’s just a thumbs-up emoji. HOWEVER, whether these are real people or just bots vying for attention to promote themselves everywhere is up for debate.
  2. The Sheer Joy of Making It Look Pretty
    Who doesn’t love a good aesthetic? Instagram encourages us all to be photographers, so if you’ve got snippets of writing or a stack of favorite books, there’s endless fun to be had. (Although, honestly, does my journal really look better next to a potted plant? The people say yes.) If you’re visually inclined, Instagram might be your paradise.
  3. Slow but Steady Growth (If You Have the Patience)
    I can attest to this one personally. When I first tried sharing my writing, I started to see a slow and steady trickle of followers—as long as I was babysitting my page like a needy plant. But take a break? You’ll be lucky if the algorithm even remembers your account exists. It felt like stepping away for a week was like hitting the reset button, and I didn’t have the energy to keep jumping back in. Eventually, I just let it be, and now my poor little writing page is collecting dust in the dredges of the Instagram algorithm. Oops! Sorry, this was supposed to be the positives section. But now that you mention it, I think it’s time we move onto….

The Bad: The Drawbacks of Instagram for Writers

  1. The Algorithm = Frenemy #1
    Oh, the elusive, ever-changing algorithm. Instagram doesn’t just let you share writing; it expects you to be a part-time social media strategist. Posting at the right time? Check. Engaging with followers? Check. Making Reels? Triple check (seriously, Reels are in). And sometimes you’ll pour your soul into a post only for it to be seen by three people, two of whom are your mom and your bestfriend (love ya girl!).
  2. Perfection Pressure: For When Words Aren’t Enough
    Being on Instagram as a writer is kind of like being told you have to paint a picture every time you write a sentence. A good line of poetry is no longer enough—you have to make it look Pinterest-worthy. This can be draining, especially when all you want to do is, you know, write. But you have to! Because this isn’t the time nor the space to share a novel. You MUST stick to the witty one-liners. That’s all people have time for. Instagram content is made to feed an audience in bite-sized portions. And so you must trim the fat.
  3. Time: Instagram Will Eat It All, Trust Me
    Let’s be real—if there’s a way to waste time online, Instagram will help you find it. Between scrolling through your feed, obsessively checking your notifications, and looking for the perfect font for that post, it’s easy to lose hours. And while we could be writing, we’re often scrolling for “inspiration”—or at least that’s what we tell ourselves.

The Verdict: Is It Worth It?
If you genuinely enjoy sharing your work visually and don’t mind the hustle of keeping up with the algorithm, Instagram can be a useful space for writers. But if it’s taking more time than it’s giving back, maybe dial it back. Remember: your worth as a writer isn’t measured by the number of likes.

Happy posting (or happy ignoring the algorithm entirely)!