Ayumi Yumiji

Process notes, craft thoughts, and in-progress realizations from a fanfiction writer at work.

[ayumiyumiji]

If It’s Still a WIP, It’s Allowed to Change.

This morning I called my WIP an “old fic” again—and felt that weird mix of fear and boredom that always comes with it.

Then I caught myself: it’s not old, it’s a WIP. Just saying that shifted everything.

Here’s what I realized:

“Old fic” feels like a verdict. Judgment. Obligation. Comparison to the past. Limiting.

“WIP” feels alive. Permission. Curiosity. Room to grow.

The story isn’t too old. I was just holding it in the wrong frame—one that made me feel trapped, like I couldn’t change it, couldn’t let it breathe.

But the truth? I already started evolving it. I shifted a character from school staff to reporter because it fit better. The story wants to grow. I just hadn’t given myself the words to say yes.

So I made a new rule:

My WIP Rule — the fear-resistant manifesto for works in progress:

If I’m still writing it, it’s a WIP. Age or past drafts don’t matter.

Nothing is final until it reflects the best I can do with what I know now. I may revise, replace, or release freely—without guilt.

My current taste outranks past intentions. Growth is proof I’m improving, not a betrayal.

If it feels old, that just means it needs permission to evolve. Pause. Breathe. Reassess. Then? Keep writing.

I only stop after I’ve let it become what it wants to be. Pausing is a choice, not a flinch.

Anchor: “If I’m still writing it, it’s allowed to change.”

Calling it a WIP (and leaning into what that really means) let the story breathe. If there’s one takeaway, it’s this: writing is alive. It grows. It evolves. Change is part of the process. Let it.

[ayumiyumiji]

Learn to Let Your Ideas Breathe

Lately I’ve noticed a pattern. I keep losing these amazing, vivid, beautifully structured ideas—not because they’re not good—but because I try to turn them into massive, multi-part plots.

Here’s what I realized:

Expectation Feels Heavy Forcing an idea to be something it isn’t, or expecting it to expand itself into a full story, smothers it. Little ideas aren’t “unfinished”—they’re just trying to be.

Breathe vs. Build Ideas need space to exist in their natural form. Trying to rush them into a massive plot is like trying to make a seed bloom instantly.

The Lesson I Learned

Little ideas are allowed to stay small. They can sit quietly, vivid and alive, without performing.

Forcing them into a shape they don’t want is what kills them—not letting them exist.

Growth is quiet. Surprising. Often unexpected.

My “Idea Breathing” Rules:

Seed Rule: If it’s alive in my mind, it’s allowed to exist—even if it never becomes a massive story.

No-Force Rule: Don’t twist ideas into something they aren’t. Watch them, not push them.

Curiosity Rule: Pause, observe, let them show what they want to become.

Growth Rule: The unexpected is allowed. Let the idea surprise me instead of shaping it prematurely.

Anchor: “Little seeds exist to breathe, not to be forced.”

This isn’t just about ideas. It’s also about how I treat creativity. Naming the rules gave those ideas oxygen. It reminded me that creation is alive, delicate, and worth patience.