What to Do When You've Got Nothing, In Life and In Writing (A Love Letter)
Spoiler alert: you dig deeper.
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Hi lovies,
It’s been a busy few weeks around here, no one thing in particular, rather all the thing—the start of my Artist’s Way class (which is amazingly wonderful thanks to the great participants), a fantastic new client who is quickly becoming a friend, working with other clients, writing these Substacks, and oh yeah, devoting myself to my own writing. The 2025 energy is coming on strong.
One beloved constant in my life is this love letter. I’ve been writing it for years now, first on MailChimp and now on Substack (which is so, so much better and easier). It comes to your inbox on Sunday, though I generally write it on Friday or Saturday. The way I write it is to look back over the week and think about what I’m seeing and hearing that pertains to writers and creativity. I think about what my clients and writing friends are saying, what seems to be coming up fro them. I pay attention to what’s coming up in classes. And then, half the time in morning pages, an idea appears and I follow it.
This week and idea appeared in my morning pages and I followed it. I wrote it all out in my journal and I was excited to get it transferred to my computer. But then a thought occurred. And that thought wouldn’t let go of me. I obsessed over it but in the end I knew it was true. I couldn’t publish that post. Not right now, anyway. It was just too close to the bones of recent events, specifically the L.A. fires. I’m no doubt over-reacting. But if there’s a chance, even a tiny chance, that my words are going to cause pain for someone, I won’t do it.
And so I’m not writing that piece. But in not writing it, I was, well, left with nothing. So what’s a writer to do?
Well, if you’re me, you flounder around for awhile, go weed through the over-stuffed email inbox, telling yourself it’s research and maybe you’ll find something to use. And then you do. In a Go Fund Me for a family who lost their livelihood when their workplace burned down. This family lived closed to the land, working in traditional ways. In writing about the loss, the father said, “I would like our son to grow up seeing his dad loving the world in this way.”
Ah, I thought. That’s it. When you got nothing, you dig deeper. You dig deeper to find the ways that you can continue to love the world. Maybe it’s through your writing. Maybe it’s through painting or dog walking or gardening or hiking or reading tarot cards. Or carving wooden spoons or going ballroom dancing. Or something.
Whatever that something is, whatever makes you fall in love with the world, go find it.
Many of us are feeling lost and confused these days. But it’s still a beautiful world out there. And it’s at times like this that it is most important that we continue to love the world.
You’ll find me here, just writing.
Love, light, and good writing
Charlotte
P.S. Your charge this week is to find—and do—that thing. For many of you, since you are reading this newsletter, it will be about writing. Please do share.
Books
The Good and The Green, by Amy Yorke. Okay I lied I didn’t read the book I said I was going to last week. Instead, I chose this cozy fantasy I had on my Kindle. Because: cozy. Need now. It’s decent. Semi-gaslamp, weird vines growing everywhere, a handsome mysterious neighbor at the cottage the heroine inherited. Decent. Not yet jumping up and down over it.
Catching the Big Fish: Meditation, Consciousness, and Creativity, by David Lynch. I’ve had this on my TBR list for years and in honor of his recent death, I think it’s time to buy it.
Resources
Did a best-selling romantasy novelist steal another writer’s story? A complex story.
I wrote about the concept of sequels in novels this week. I think it might be helpful for you.
How to stay calm in the chaos ahead.
Mark Twain said that analyzing a joke was like dissecting a frog—you learn a lot but the frog dies. So too with writer’s voice?
Workshops in England and France
All the latest information, including dates and cost, for our 2025 England workshops is now listed on our website. I’ve just updated our France page as well!
And if you want a taste of the adventure that awaits, you can read my posts about this year here, and here, here, here, and here.
Other places to connect with me:
My website (badly in need of an upgrade)
Our workshop website
My original blog (now for archive purposes only, no longer updated, but damn there are a lot of articles on it)
Usually there’s a stylized drawing of my headshot here, created by my talented sister, Christine Rains. But I’m writing this newsletter on my new computer, and I can’t yet access my old files because I haven’t transferred them over yet. Why? Because I’m afraid to. Last time I downloaded Word onto a tablet, it populated the desktop with years-old files and folders from my OneDrive account. Does anybody know how to make this not happen? A three-month upgrade to a paid subscription to anyone who can tell me. Please hit reply to this email and lay it on me.
This is not only timely but lovely. I love that you look back over the week for inspiration. I started jotting notes each day after my writing session, about my WIP. I haven’t made it to morning pages yet, even the notes are wonderful input to review!
I’ve been thinking about the books that held me when I was a girl — the ones that made me feel there was good out there and in me. And I’ve been thinking about how the stories I write could make another child feel better. I’ve been thinking about structure, length, and illustrations and how my best guide is the little me who held onto books with a fierce passion.