Guest Post: How to not lose your shit as a writer – 2025 Edition

A Month of Rain and Reads Features3 months ago6 min readAdd comment

Welcome to A Month of Rain and Reads, a celebration of self-published and indie SFF throughout the entire month of November. To find out how you can take part and view the whole list of content, visit our introduction post.

Today, we’ve got a guest post by JD Rivers on chill time for writers.

The world is burning; there is no denying it. As a creative the repercussions are felt as triple kill. It seems the world is especially out to get us, and make sure we stay down. These are trying times. Carving out moments to recharge and find our balance becomes increasingly tough and often seems impossible. But there are still ways it can be achieved.

As always this is not meant as a universal advice, but steps that helped me to find some form of peace in between while the crazy moments keep piling on. Not all of this will be feasible for all of you, everyone has a different situation, a different setup, and different responsibilities and priorities. So, take from here what might help you and discard all the rest.

One of the biggest culprits of our fears and unrest is the dreaded social media. For me and many creators it’s our life blood, the vein keeping us alive, because often it is the only option to reach our audience. The world is chronically online and so we must as well.

If you have another work device besides a smartphone allowing you to be online, I make the case to delete any social media and/or short form content app from your phone—all of them. Log out of the browsers, mute the chat apps; allow yourself moments of peace. If you can’t do it because it’s your only work device, set the apps on time out, mute the notifications, go DnD—disconnect as completely and fully as you can.

If the full disconnect gives you anxiety, start gradually, until you can stay away at least an hour. Allow yourself to be in the current moment, away from the tragic and the drama and everything which is wrong with the world—try to find beauty in the current.

Put on your headphones and listen to music instead. Not just as a background noise, but listen to the lyrics, the music, the arrangement, the interpretation. Let yourself fall into it, while you do nothing. It costs you three minutes on average, sometimes more, but after the world looks different.

If music isn’t your jam (ah, see what I did there), go outside and touch grass, literally. If you are close to a forest that is safe, take a walk. If you have a garden, sit down there. If you have a park or zoo, or even a local hardware store with a plant department or a nursery, visit (just conveniently forget your money at home), and admire the plants (no touching in the store).

It always sounds esoteric when people say we are part of the nature around us, that we are born of it. But it holds true. The concrete jungle of the cities, the enclosing walls of our own homes are not what keeps us sane and grounded in the long run, but the outside world clad in green can. Grounding us back in what is important—ourselves.

It gets us out. If your body allows it: move. A walk can change a perspective quite drastically. This is not about running or doing a marathon or getting onto hour-long hikes (feel free to do so if you really want), but about ten minutes around the block, the five minutes to the park, the maybe twenty to the city center. One step in front of the other, just you and the outside world.

If you have the time, the money, and the commitment, think about adopting a pet from a shelter. If you can’t, consider volunteering for one. Animals have so much love to give and they don’t care about politics or the state of the world, or depression or how much money you have, or you don’t have. They want to be happy, and they want love (and snacks).

If everything fails and you feel the burn out creep in, get a non-static hobby, if your body allows for it. Start building something, solve jigsaw puzzles, renovate something (start small), cook from scratch, pull weeds—don’t let just your fingers do the work, but the body. Sew, crochet, knit, paint (analog), clean while listening to an audiobook or music. Divorce yourself from your digital identity whenever possible.

Yes, the world will move on when you are not looking, new drama and news will pile up, stuff will burn, people will suffer, and it’s okay that you care, that you are enraged, that you want to fight—but to be able to do so you will need your wits about you, you will need the energy to do all the things you swore you will do. Giving yourself over to the doom-scrolling, the discouragement nothing seemingly gets better, to the feeling you are the only one to care will not help them nor will it help you.

Finding pockets of chill, moments in which you can breathe freely again, a life offline and away from the creative work you mainly do, is the foundation to not burn out, to find your own self-worth, and to be able to be there when someone needs your help.

Accept the offline world is as important as the online world, accept you aren’t able to see all and be there for all, breathe in, and let go.