I am so sick of reading writing advice. It’s always just write, write, write. But what if I don’t want to? What if I want to daydream about my stories until I’m spiraling into Fae folklore, casually coming up with a title, opening line, and outline for a monster smut novel I never intend to write? (Pixie Dust and Fairy Fucks)
That’s what writing chaos is—it’s starting a story with an idea that spirals into five unrelated outlines, naming characters after inside jokes, and abandoning plot structure entirely just to spite the "rules" of how things are supposed to be done. “Ooh, you have to learn the rules before you break them.” No, you see, I already understand exactly why the fictional protagonist of my fake Fae smut gets trapped with her domineering Fae lover. I did the research. I know the Fae lore to back it up.
But I’m not that type of writer. I don’t write about that. Or am I?
Let me break down the writing process—or, more accurately, offer a cautionary tale—in a way you’ve never seen before. This isn’t about structure or discipline—it’s about embracing the chaos, because that’s where my creativity thrives. This is the beautifully inefficient process that works for me—feel free to borrow it, but don’t say I didn’t warn you. Proceed with caution (and maybe some emotional armor):
Existential Blank Page Panic:"What if I never have another good idea again?" The terror of starting. The blinking cursor feels like it’s mocking you, and you question why you even thought writing was a good idea in the first place.
Chaotic Word Vomit: Let’s just dump everything out and see what sticks." Ideas spill out wildly—some genius, some completely incoherent, some downright degeneracy (like Pixie Dust and Fairy Fucks, the smut that will never be written). But it’s all progress.
Procrastination Justified: "But first… let me clean my entire apartment." You convince yourself that everything else is critical to the writing process.
Research Rabbit Hole: "I just need to look up one quick fact…" 5 hours later, you’re an expert on an unrelated topic.
Outline Illusion: "If I make the perfect outline, this will write itself!" Spoiler: It won’t.
Epic Fuck This Moment: "Why did I think I could do this? This is garbage." Frustration peaks, and quitting feels inevitable. You beat yourself up and consider another hobby—and now you have an entire craft room that would put Michaels out of business.
Overthink Everything:"Is this comma necessary? Should I change my protagonist’s name… again?" You spiral into tiny details that don’t really matter.
Accidental Writing Moment:"I blacked out, and now there are words on the page?" Somehow, you’ve written something without realizing it. It’s not perfect, but hey—it exists.
Surprise Achievement Unlocked:"Okay, maybe I can do this." Euphoria hits—you made real progress, and it doesn’t totally suck.
Creative Delusion High:"This is the best thing anyone has ever written!" A fleeting but glorious moment of inflated confidence.
Editing Abyss:"I’ve read this sentence 47 times, and it no longer makes sense." Endless tweaking leads to self-doubt, and imposter syndrome sets in hard.
Disclaimer: I never claimed I was a professional, so if this so-called "advice" leaves you staring at a blank screen or suddenly pursuing a stained glass hobby, that’s on you. Chaos is contagious—consider yourself warned.
Identity Crisis Stage:"Wait… am I actually a writer?"You begin to question everything. Maybe you are good at this? Or maybe you’re just delusional?
Reset to Chaos: "Just kidding, back to square one." You realize writing is a never-ending cycle of nonsense. Whether you’re starting a new project or reworking the same one, the chaos continues.
day off in austin yesterday. went to the blanton museum. this is a wall of the james drake /”brain trash” exhibit. i was stuck on this one for about 40 minutes.
