Shaking Hands with a Blank Page.

This morning, I’m republishing a thoroughly edited essay from 2022 on the subject of getting started with writing, and pursuing a creative vocation more generally. I was inspired to revisit my thoughts here when a Magpie reader emailed me last week and asked how long it took for me to support myself as a writer. I wanted to say “35 years,” because in a sense I’ve been becoming a writer my entire life, and it was only five years ago that I really started making a living off of it. It takes a long time to become. And I’m still becoming the writer I want to be — Ira Glass has a great quote about how there’s this wide chasm between your taste as a writer and your output, and how it takes years to bridge the gap. I’m still narrowing that sea. But — don’t let my 35 years comment deter you. My advice remains the same, whether you are just setting out in your creative endeavors, or well underway: be disciplined, and don’t worry about the audience. Your job is to create; the reception of your work is, in my opinion, none of your business. Finding that detachment is creatively liberating. Onward!

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A Magpie reader (and aspiring writer) recently asked how and why I publish so frequently. My knee-jerk reaction: I very much doubt you can find a woman with less on her mind. I simply have the opportunity, and vocation, to transform the phenomena of everyday life into prose.

But I sat with the question for a spell, and I realized that I had a lot to say on the matter.

Nora Ephron famously wrote, “Everything is copy.” I don’t take to the tenor of this sentiment — it feels contriving, opportunistic — but the subtext stands square-footed: absolutely everything around us invites inspection. The uprise of zinnias that bloomed seemingly overnight in our side yard; the sanguine call of the cardinals in our trees; the sunshine smell of my son’s blond hair. To a great mind, nothing is little. I have so much to say about “the little things,” and the perspective extends well beyond the craft of writing, but let me begin narrowly. When I studied piano, I would practice scales and arpeggios. They were warm-ups, and they also built muscle memory and probably aural memory, too. Sometimes, I perform similar “warm-ups” in writing, which I rarely publish, at least in their original form: I challenge myself to resurrect in exacting detail a specific moment from childhood, or from dating Mr. Magpie, or from the early days of motherhood–all periods of my life heavy with emotion and self-discovery. We’re talking fine-tipped, microscopic detail: what color were the sheets? What was the light like in the room? Was my infant daughter making more of a squawk or a burble? It can be a slog. I often stare out the window in search of the right words, and the pine trees through the panes wave back impassively. The redbirds tilt their heads this way and that, singing out with ease from their deciduous dais across the way. Dig deeper, they seem to be saying. Write until the ink runs like water. Drafting like this primes me. It makes my longer form writing more expressive. And I think it has something to do with sitting in the weeds: no reed, no ripple beneath my notice.

The mentality holds beyond the realm of writing. Last year at the Grammy Awards, Dr. Dre won the inaugural “Dr. Dre Global Impact Award.” In his acceptance speech, he said: “Pursue quality over quantity and remember that everything is important. That is one of my mottos — everything is important.” He paused meaningfully, and then left the stage. He could have said anything from that pulpit, but his key legacy-defining message was: “Make everything matter.” Elsewhere, I have shared a similar, stirring quote from actor Mads Mikkelsen:

“My approach to what I do in my job — and it might even be the approach to my life — is that everything I do is the most important thing I do. Whether it’s a play or the next film. It is the most important thing. I know it’s not going to be the most important thing, and it might not be close to being the best, but I have to make it the most important thing. That means I will be ambitious with my job and not with my career. There’s a very big difference, because if I’m ambitious with my career, everything I do now is just stepping-stones leading to something — a goal I might never reach, and so everything will be disappointing. But if I make everything important, then eventually it will become a career. Big or small, we don’t know. But at least everything was important.”

My husband models this beautifully for me on a daily basis. He is the master of a “fewer, better” mentality. He’s choosy, but what he does take on, he takes on fully. You should see him prepping mise en place. His workspace is meticulous: each matchstick of carrot the same size; every ingredient weighed within a hair of an ounce; the prep bowls laid out in a tidy row, ladies in waiting. Everything matters. He often references something he calls “the bathroom check,” which he learned about from an interview with Anthony Bourdain, in which the chef made the point that if a restaurant can’t keep its bathrooms cleaned, it’s doomed. If you can’t get the small things right, you’re going fail at the big things.

I think of this often, in many lanes: motherhood, fitness, writing, running my business. It’s about small, focused, intentional movements. Getting the little things right; caring about the details; bringing intensity to the minutaie.

This brings me to my second writing mantra: treat your writing as a practice. Inspiration will not always find you, so you must learn to be disciplined. I write with the goal of publishing daily, and I focus on process rather than perfection. This requires significant dedication. I am aware that it may seem I’m talking out of both sides of my mouth here. “Process over perfection” is an odd bed-fellow with the “everything is important” mantra. But I find the mindsets complementary in the realm of writing. I know little of the merit of my output, but I am committed to the process. I write with as much care, discipline, and continuity as I can. I show up every morning at 9 a.m. and shake hands with the blank page. Maybe today is the day I will write something dignified, shapely; maybe not. But I’m going to try.

For years now, I have been working on fictional projects. I’ve shared drafts here and there, and it is a particular agony to publish them. This is because personal essay is my preferred, natural medium. The pen fits snugly in my hand when I’m typing in this mode: I could live and die here quite happily. Fiction, by contrast, is depleting, a monstrous drain. I imagine it is something like going varsity in one sport and then learning to play a second. Different muscles; new rules of engagement. The stakes feel uncomfortable, too. But still I chip away at the fictional pieces, convinced that “the harder I work, the more luck I’ll have.”

What I mean to say is —

Nothing worth doing happens over night. Most successful undertakings have a long tail, and that tail is made up of the same little things done over and over again, with intention and focus and dog-like devotion.

When you are overwhelmed at the start of things, or in the middle of things, or even at the height of things: dial in on the smallest increment, and show it your love. Spend an hour hunting for the right word; try thirteen different descriptions of the rain to solicit its sibilance. None of these are futile undertakings, or wasted time. Write until you find what’s inside your heart on the paper.

Post-Scripts.

+The sense of an ending.

+On getting started with writing.

+Is pressure a choice?

Shopping Break.

The following content may contain affiliate links. If you make a purchase through the links below, I may receive compensation.

+If you loved the La Ligne Fiona dress, but not the price tag, you must check out this Gap beauty. Denim dresses are trending. More of my favorites here.

+I keep seeing chic peas on Instagram wearing brown, taupe, vanilla, and mocha colored jeans — been seeing a lot of these Ulla Olympias (like a glammed-up Carhartt pant?). I love the look of this pair, and these wide legs are so good.

+This Zimmermann dress is 50% off and just perfect for a fall festivity.

+Everlane is killing it with the jackets right now – I just shared this barn style yesterday and now I can’t decide if I want that one or this one!

+Meanwhile, how adorable is this kids barn coat?! Also comes in a cute denim. While you’re at J. Crew kids, don’t miss this striped, ribbed dress with the cutest gold buttons.

+I’m obsessed with this waistcoat with the dramatic zig zag trim. So good with white wide legs and black leather sandals now, and then could also work with black dress pants for work! (BTW, these sandals were out of stock for awhile and are back. They are SO elegant and leg-lengthening. I love them with a sundress. And the work pants I mentioned are INCREDIBLE. Use SHOOPXSPANX for 10% off and free ship. You’ll love them – super flattering and more interesting than a standard pixie or straight leg. Look great with so many different kinds of flats and heels.)

+A great gift for a two or three year old. They love to do anything we do! My kids were obsessed. More go-to gift ideas for young children here.

+A look for less ($39) for the Tuckernuck Sofia so many of us own and adore!

+Cute Naghedi tote on sale in a great color.

+Absolute wardrobe staple. I have it in the white but cotton jersey but want in a stripe. I love the way this looks paired with jeans and trendy shoes as an everyday look.

+I have one of these big Stoney Clover pouches (fun with the ric rac trim) and have to say I absolutely adore it. I know they’re spendy for what they are, but I’ve used mine all summer long to keep all of my essentials separate from my kids’ belongings in the pool bag, and it’s kind of insulated/waterproof so if it gets splashed or dripped on, nothing seeps into the interior. It’s surprisingly big — big enough to hold my Kindle, swimsuit, pareo, sunscreen, sunglasses, wallet, and keys.