How to Keep Writing When Life Keeps… Existing
You know that This Is Fine meme? The little dog calmly sipping coffee while the room burns down? That’s me. That’s you. That’s everyone who’s ever ipened their laptop with the noble intention of writing exactly 1,000 words before the universe looked them dead in the eyes and said, “Counteroffer: three minor inconveniences, one existential crisis, and a package that says delivered but absolutely is not.
The audacity of life to keep… life-ing.
Every time I think today is the day, today I become a disciplined writer, the universe invents a brand new side quest. Suddenly I’m calling customer service, reorganizing my bookshelf for reasons I can’t explain, and wondering whether or not crows know they’re cool.
But alas. The words must be written. So here’s my highly scientific guide to writing while everything around you insists on becoming a sitcom.
Do not binge Love Island.
Or do.
Listen, Love Island is an excellent study of the human condition. The American version. The British version. Frankly, all reality television belongs in the anthropology section of the library. Throw in Survivor, Traitors, Big Brother, Kitchen Nightmares and whatever dating show Netflix has cooked up this week. (Netflix, I will never forgive you for cancelling Too Hot To Handle.)
The smartest people you know watch reality TV. I don’t make the rules. The producers do.
You call it “couch rotting.” I call it observational research, character studies, dialogue analysis, psychological profiling with a side of dramatic music every time someone says “Can I pull you for a chat?”
Sometimes your brain needs to stop solving plot holes and simply watch strangers argue about eye contact around a fire pit.
It’s like feeding two seagulls exactly one (1) French fry.
2. Become one with the blankets.
Resistance is futile.
My mushroom blanket has accepted me into its colony. We are now symbiotic. It provides warmth, I provide snacks and questionable life decisions.
People online love to preach about “optimizing your workspace. Have you considered optimizing your blanket pile instead? Writing while wrapped in three blankets with tea balanced dangerously on the armrest? Suddenly I’m an eccentric woodland scholar documenting ancient lore. (The lore is mostly me forgetting why I walked into the kitchen.)
But still, the words get written… eventually.
3. Birds have no borders.
Neither do my impulsive thoughts.
People wrongly on the internet say intrusive thoughts, but intrusive sounds more like something I definitely shouldn’t do. Impulsive thoughts are more like, “What if I drove three hours to buy a crystal?” or “I could absolutely start learning Icelandic tonight,” or “maybe I’ll make this crow my emotional support coworker.”
Birds don’t seem particularly concerned with five-year plans. They’re just out there, existing. Screaming. Stealing snacks and living authentically.
Major respect, tbh.
Sometimes the best writing happens when you stop trying to cage every thought into a neat little outline and let your brain migrate for a while. Follow the weird connections, chase the shiny ideas. Worst case scenario, you end up with a paragraph you delete later. Best case? You accidentally discover your favorite scene, joke or plot twist.
Creativity likes to wander, so let it. Life is going to keep throwing plot twists into your day whether you’ve scheduled them or not. There will always be laundry, emails, weitrd Tuesdays, a new season of something you absolutely don’t have time to watch but somehow finish in two days anyway.
You don’t have to become perfectly organized before you’re allowed to create.
So buy the mushroom marshmallows. Curl up with the blanket. Watch a ridiculous reality show if your brain needs the vacation. Then open the document and write one sentence.
Then another.
Life is gonna life. You might as well write through it.