I Didn't Write for 6 Months. Here's What Happened.
In case you haven’t noticed, I’ve been on a writing hiatus for the past six months. I didn’t make any fanfare about it. No big announcements. No long-winded apologies. (Yes, I posted some blogs during that time, but they were mostly pieces I had written beforehand, or recycled from older writing.) Behind the scenes, I had stopped actively writing new material and taken a much-needed sabbatical. And honestly, I think every writer should do the same at some point.
I’ve been a professional writer since the mid-1990s — yes, way back in the 1900s, as my kids like to say. Over the past 30 years, I’ve taken the occasional week off here and there, but never anything substantial. Never anything that truly allowed me to step away. This writing break was different. It wasn’t just needed; it was transformational. Here’s why.
As creatives (and yes, we writers are creatives whether we want to own that label or not), we tend to immerse ourselves completely in our work. Hours a day. Days on end. Fueled by an internal fire to produce more, more, more. But here’s the truth: you can only keep that fire burning for so long and still create something meaningful. Even the biggest candle eventually burns itself out. And if it doesn’t, if the wick survives, the melted wax will pool around it and smother the flame.
The same thing happens with creativity. If we keep pushing, keep forcing words onto the page without a break, we drown under our own thoughts. We smother the very spark we’re trying so hard to feed.
Taking a break shifts your perspective. It gives you the space to rekindle the flame inside. When your creative well is allowed to rest, the sediment — the clutter of half-formed ideas and noisy self-doubt — settles to the bottom. What’s left is clarity. And with clarity comes real, meaningful creation.
Unfortunately, I’ve seen many writers, myself included, confuse “busy” writing with “productive” writing. They are not the same thing. Busy writing makes you think you’re making progress, but in reality, you’re just spinning your wheels. You’re changing fonts, rewriting the same paragraph over and over, outlining the same concept again and again, but never moving forward. That’s what happens when busyness gets in the way.
During my sabbatical, I didn’t write a single word — at least not for work. I played video games. (Yes, really.) I read books by authors I had never encountered before and let their voices seep into my soul. I organized my desk. I went for long walks in nature. I binge-watched shows I’d missed. I did anything but write.
And here’s when the magic happened: about four months in, I felt it — a tug, a pull to write again. But not the same kind of writing I’d always done. This was different. It was creative for the sake of creativity. No business goals. No marketing plans. No outlines or expectations. Just raw, personal expression.
In two months, I wrote a 60,000-word book. Not a business book. Not a writing book. Not a self-help book. Not even a book about creativity. A personal project. The kind of thing I’d always wanted to do but never had the time, motivation, or creative reserves to attempt.
No, I can’t tell you exactly what it is just yet. It’s a huge departure from anything I’ve ever published before, and I may even release it under a pen name. But creating purely for the sake of creation was freeing. I had no agenda. No audience expectations. Just me and my creativity unleashed on the page. It was liberating and fulfilling at the same time.
But here's the thing: writing 60,000 words in two months isn’t something that happens when you’re creatively drained. It happens when your well is full again.
So if you’ve been writing for a while and you’re feeling stuck, drained, uninspired, or emotionally disconnected from your work, take the hint. It’s okay to step back. It’s okay to take a sabbatical. In fact, it might be the smartest creative decision you ever make.
It doesn’t have to be six months. It doesn’t even have to be three. Take a month. Take two. Unplug from the pressure to produce, and give your creative spirit a chance to breathe again.
Trust me. When you come back, you won’t just be writing. You’ll be creating in a way you didn’t even know was possible.
Feeling Stuck? Maybe It’s Time to Step Back.
If writing feels more like a grind than a joy, consider giving yourself the space to pause and reset. When you're ready to reignite your creativity with intention—and need help turning that renewed energy into something meaningful—I’m here. Schedule a session to support, insight, and encouragement on your writing journey.