I like the idea to write where it's warm... many years ago when I couldn't decide on an academic career path, my mentor suggested I feel into the academic cultures and my personal experiences and 'go where the water flows warmly around you'. I did, and never regretted it. Writing myself into the warm places where the waters flow pleasingly around me... I'll try that.
This was such a delight to read. The moment I opened your newsletter and saw the napping ginger cat who is the spitting image of my dear departed familiar, Ginny, made my heart flutter in the most beautiful way. And then reading your words was just the icing on the cake. So, thank you!
I needed this reminder today! I also love the imagery of scooting closer to what we’re working on, like a cat following the warmth of the sun. They know. It’s a joy I’ve watched unfold with my cat during many a sunny afternoon here too.
"When Emily says “Write where it’s warm,” she means follow language for pleasure alone...These days, I’m trying to write warm sentences—prioritizing texture, taste, and emotional temperature. I tell myself not to write from the brain, but from the belly."
Oh, Joy, I needed this today! I am focusing on showing up and trusting the words/page will catch me. And the idea of writing where it is warm helps me to trust the process as an embodied one.
Sage and inviting advice, thank you for sharing, Joy. Sidenote: I hosted my rehearsal dinner at a beautiful restaurant called Cellar Door, in New Orleans. Aptly named for the J.R.R. Tolkien quote.
I needed to read this! It was exactly what I needed to finally begin my own Substack, giving me the courage to write for pleasure after working in journalism. Thank you xx
To write from the belly not the brain and chase the warmth—what a novel concept! That certainly seems like it’d add to the authenticity and personality in writing!
"Write where it's warm." Oh my, I can't think of a better mantra to place on my desk. I feel the same angst whenever I complete a project (writing or otherwise) and have to ask myself the question, What's next? I'm reminded of a beautiful quote from a book by Gail Blanke: "Most of us are afraid of the in-between times—those stretches between jobs, between lovers, between a past that is stifling our dreams and a future that is scarily, precariously unknown." There's more but I don't know how many words I can type into a response. Thank you for sharing this beautiful reminder to follow the heat. ;-)
Imagining what embodying "honeycomb cadence" would feel like -- maybe like slowly, slowly moving in golden hour sunlight on a slightly heated day. Loved this, and grateful for this! Warming, a generative read
Anything you write next will be a lovely gift, at least to me! Just finished your first book and it was like chicken soup for my soul. Thank you for being you 🫶
I love. I have been thinking about what Elizabeth Gilbert says in Big Magic before she sits down to write, calling to whatever spirits, muses, ghosts and ether to help her along the way. That "call" along with sinking into a warm bath - that's where the good stuff is.
I love. I have been thinking about what Elizabeth Gilbert says in Big Magic before she sits down to write, calling to whatever spirits, muses, ghosts and ether to help her along the way. That "call" along with sinking into a warm bath - that's where the good stuff is.
I love. I have been thinking about what Elizabeth Gilbert says in Big Magic before she sits down to write, calling to whatever spirits, muses, ghosts and ether to help her along the way. That "call" along with sinking into a warm bath - that's where the good stuff is.
“Write the thing that wants to get written” is so tough when it feels like it could hurt people we love to hear our truths. Working on this constantly.
I like the idea to write where it's warm... many years ago when I couldn't decide on an academic career path, my mentor suggested I feel into the academic cultures and my personal experiences and 'go where the water flows warmly around you'. I did, and never regretted it. Writing myself into the warm places where the waters flow pleasingly around me... I'll try that.
This was such a delight to read. The moment I opened your newsletter and saw the napping ginger cat who is the spitting image of my dear departed familiar, Ginny, made my heart flutter in the most beautiful way. And then reading your words was just the icing on the cake. So, thank you!
I needed this reminder today! I also love the imagery of scooting closer to what we’re working on, like a cat following the warmth of the sun. They know. It’s a joy I’ve watched unfold with my cat during many a sunny afternoon here too.
"When Emily says “Write where it’s warm,” she means follow language for pleasure alone...These days, I’m trying to write warm sentences—prioritizing texture, taste, and emotional temperature. I tell myself not to write from the brain, but from the belly."
Oh, Joy, I needed this today! I am focusing on showing up and trusting the words/page will catch me. And the idea of writing where it is warm helps me to trust the process as an embodied one.
Thank you!
Sage and inviting advice, thank you for sharing, Joy. Sidenote: I hosted my rehearsal dinner at a beautiful restaurant called Cellar Door, in New Orleans. Aptly named for the J.R.R. Tolkien quote.
I needed to read this! It was exactly what I needed to finally begin my own Substack, giving me the courage to write for pleasure after working in journalism. Thank you xx
I needed this today. To warmth, my friend.
To write from the belly not the brain and chase the warmth—what a novel concept! That certainly seems like it’d add to the authenticity and personality in writing!
"Write where it's warm." Oh my, I can't think of a better mantra to place on my desk. I feel the same angst whenever I complete a project (writing or otherwise) and have to ask myself the question, What's next? I'm reminded of a beautiful quote from a book by Gail Blanke: "Most of us are afraid of the in-between times—those stretches between jobs, between lovers, between a past that is stifling our dreams and a future that is scarily, precariously unknown." There's more but I don't know how many words I can type into a response. Thank you for sharing this beautiful reminder to follow the heat. ;-)
Imagining what embodying "honeycomb cadence" would feel like -- maybe like slowly, slowly moving in golden hour sunlight on a slightly heated day. Loved this, and grateful for this! Warming, a generative read
Anything you write next will be a lovely gift, at least to me! Just finished your first book and it was like chicken soup for my soul. Thank you for being you 🫶
I love your perseverance.
I love. I have been thinking about what Elizabeth Gilbert says in Big Magic before she sits down to write, calling to whatever spirits, muses, ghosts and ether to help her along the way. That "call" along with sinking into a warm bath - that's where the good stuff is.
I love. I have been thinking about what Elizabeth Gilbert says in Big Magic before she sits down to write, calling to whatever spirits, muses, ghosts and ether to help her along the way. That "call" along with sinking into a warm bath - that's where the good stuff is.
I love. I have been thinking about what Elizabeth Gilbert says in Big Magic before she sits down to write, calling to whatever spirits, muses, ghosts and ether to help her along the way. That "call" along with sinking into a warm bath - that's where the good stuff is.
“Write the thing that wants to get written” is so tough when it feels like it could hurt people we love to hear our truths. Working on this constantly.