Every writer has their own modus operandi when it comes to their books. Some write daily, some have a neat schedule, others are more erratic or write whenever the gut inspiration kicks in.

I stopped trying to fit into either of those when I realized I have 2 writing modes of my own: frenzied ‘mad scientist’ nonstop writing for weeks while my book is the only thing on my mind, or periods of total creative hibernation and disconnect. There is no inbetween.

I don’t do shades of grey, or bits of writing a scene here and there. Writing daily has never worked for me, simply because I need to clear my head, to recharge, step back, distance myself from what I’m creating to have a sense of perspective, bigger picture, to consider all angles and remember where I’m going. It’s either 100% or not at all, simply out of a principle of respect to what I’m creating – and let’s be honest, nobody can sustain a life of being 100% plugged into their imaginative world and foregoing the mundane tasks of reality.

There is a fluid pulse going through the continuity of scenes and chapters, an emotional undercurrent that changes with every day you sit down to write. When the creative wave hits, I ride that emotional current and imbue my writing with as much soulfulness as I can, because that’s what matters most when it comes to my writing: it must carry heart and soul.

You know how you can just tell when something is mass-manufactured, copy-pasted, the words or strings to a creation just weaved together in a mechanical, soulless manner? And when they’re handmade, with care, with intent? The same goes for art.

I always have to be in a mood in order to write, to be in a certain mindset; it’s the only way the story will feel raw and powerful, the only way the characters’ emotional dimension will feel authentic.

I don’t sit down to write when I’m emptied, tired, when I’m distraught or needing to focus on other parts of my life, because I know I won’t be able to honor my art the way it needs to, that I won’t be able to create something born of patience and my imagination. I sit down and write when I can honor that creative fire and give it all the space and time that it deserves.

What is writing for me?

When I write, I no longer worry over the thousands of writing tips and articles I’ve read or intend to read. I no longer think critically of the act of creation. I become it.

When I write, everything goes quiet. There is only being and the joy of writing. When I write, it no longer feels like writing – the words fade – there’s only the world in my head, the boundless magical dimension I’ve created. The glowing crystal city of the Lunar Queendom in its eternal twilight, the windswept crumbles of a kingdom destroyed by a cybernetic corporation. There is only the luscious rainforest of Xandrias, an ever welcoming home with open arms, with its utopian values and academy housing the most diverse people. Slipping into the hearts of the characters feels like reuniting with old friends. A place where you will always belong.

I forget I’m bound by flesh and bone or where I’m from or the limits imposed by society or circumstance, because in my mind and on paper, I’m infinite, I can do anything – and nothing compares to the joy of creating.

When I write, I become an omniscient force in a galaxy of my own making, and if that’s not bliss… I don’t know what is.