february is for (newsletter) lovers

or, this month's commonplace book, here to break your inboxes

Hi friends—it feels like it’s been a long time since a normal round-up on here, and it’s so nice to be back. Unlike January, which felt like a frantic sprint in both wonderful and horrifying ways, this month felt like finding my rhythm in the second or third mile of a long run. I had the chance to catch my breath, to settle into sustained work, and to meditate on some questions that felt central to finding some new balance this year. So, without further ado…

learning 💭

January was a lot. The year started here in L.A. with one of the worst fires we’ve seen, and while I’m so lucky I live in a relatively safe zone, I spent a week teaching from home, worrying about my students and friends and colleagues, and generally destroying my nervous system by monitoring wildfire spread and AQI on an hourly basis (at least lol). Add in the general state of the nation and trying to figure out how to keep up and take action in ways that feel helpful and sustainable, plus a few personal crises, and, well… I found my February reading focused on a handful of urgent questions that might, perhaps, resonate with others.

How do you take care of your mind and creativity in times of stress? How do you know when you need discipline, and when you need gentleness? What might it look like to let something be easy?

Each of these could probably be a newsletter all on its own—these are central organizing questions of much of my life, as an Enneagram 3—but two books helped me sort through a few ideas for myself.

I’ve been talking about Dear Writer by Maggie Smith all month, but it deserves a newsletter spotlight. It comes out on April 1 (we’re almost there!!) and I feel confident telling you all to preorder now (I’ve ordered three copies for different purposes).¹ And Feel-Good Productivity by Ali Abdaal ended up on my radar thanks to Anna Mercier—I listened to the audiobook version last fall but felt compelled to go back through a paper copy for some actionable nuggets.

The two are kind of polar opposites—Smith comes from poetry, Abdaal from productivity—but they ended up helping me reflect on some of the same things. And putting them together speaks to both sides of me: the creative soul that feels inspired by a gorgeous metaphor, and the brain that wants some data to convince me. So, without further ado: my takeaways.

first

Curiosity and playfulness are key.

Smith writes about embracing your own voice and vision, but also about letting yourself evolve: “Being true to your vision means being authentic, but it doesn’t mean being static… We all have signatures as artists—those hallmarks that make our work identifiably ours—but we’re human beings. We change, and our art changes with us.”

But change, experimentation, and exploration aren’t just unavoidable—they can keep you energized and excited. One of my favorite parts of the book was when Smith explained the etymology of apprenticeship: amare, to love. She writes, “When you try something new, whether it’s writing or baking or running, you are in a period of apprenticeship to that art or activity.. An amateur does something for the love of it. And when you love something, you stick with it.”

So she encourages surprise, “the secret to every piece of writing I most admire and enjoy… The surprise is both part of the challenge and part of the fun, for readers and for writers.”

She and Abdaal both agree that a playful attitude toward even serious work is the secret sauce.

“Creativity is artistic mischief. As writers and artists, our work is play… we’re working, but we’re delighting in the work.” —Maggie Smith

Abdaal recounts an experiment conducted by the UC Davis Center for Neuroscience. The goal was to investigate what effect curiosity had on subjects’ minds—and turns out, when we’re curious, we remember details better. It also activates dopamine, which this nerd can anecdotally confirm! He reports that “engaging with their curiosity made [the study participants] feel good—and they in turn became better at retaining information.” Curiosity helps us focus longer, too. It makes sense—the more interested we are, the more engaged we are, and the more we get out of the experience. “The writer Walter Isaacson summarized his findings thus: ‘Being curious about everything not only makes you more creative. It enriches your life.’”

So the question becomes: what can we find to be curious about? Or—one of the takeaways that has most stuck with me from Abdaal—“what would this look like if it were fun?” Maybe the two are one and the same.

second

If we follow our curiosity, it will lead us to a generative restlessness.

Smith weaves together musings on discovery, surprise, and flow, saying: “the process is the point, not a means to an end. We have to love making things more than we love having made them. We show up to the page to discover what we think, not to proclaim or preach what we already know.”

The goal is to follow your instincts toward growth; to treat writing less as a “workshop” where you’re following a blueprint, and more like a laboratory, where you’re constantly experimenting. A few favorite quotes:

• “Restless writers are flexible and nimble; they resist doing the same thing again and again, even if that thing was successful and well-received. You refuse to rest on your laurels… restless writers keep their grasp soft, ready to let go. They stay in motion, ready to change direction. They take nothing for granted.”

• “Competing against yourself—trying to demonstrate improvement, reaching toward mastery of a skill—comes from a growth mindset, which is a mindset of abundance.”

• “Experimenting with genre, form, voice, perspective, tone—these are all ways we can bring the element of play to our creative process.”

• “Cross-pollination is about branching out—getting beyond the self and the singular lens we see through, to marry personal experience and observation with history, science, fine arts, anthropology, pop culture. The world is your material. Create with it. Mix it up. Connect. Make something new.”

Abdaal, of course, agrees: “Life is stressful. Play makes it fun.”

Most importantly to me personally, he cites Csikszentmihalyi’s research on flow, which CAME FROM ROCK CLIMBING²: “climbers hint at our second way to find the fun: by emphasizing the joy that comes not from the outcome, but the process itself. According to… Csikszentmihalyi, the biggest difference between climbing, and, say, football, is that most climbers are completely immersed in the process (climbing the wall) rather than the end result (winning the game)… if we can learn to focus on the process, rather than the outcome, we’re substantially more likely to enjoy a task.”

third

It’s all about connection.

Maggie Smith speaks directly to the hopelessness many of us feel—perhaps especially in times when the world seems particularly full of atrocity—that our work is futile, has nothing to offer. She knows “we create in solitude... but ultimately we want to share with other people, and we hope it will mean something to them. We hope our work will touch them, or teach them, or make them laugh, or transform their perspective.” And she reminds us of a few things: that we’re part of an interconnected web, and if we’re being as real as possible with our words, they could change someone’s life.

• “When you create, you have to reach deep inside yourself and be willing to excavate the gems from the dark mine. How not to see a double meaning in that word, mine? Because what you bring up from that dark space, what you dust off and hold up to the light to see its facets, belongs to you. It’s yours. But—and this is important—it doesn’t have to belong only to you. When you share your work with others, it’s a generous offering. A gift.”

• “Our work is constantly in conversation—with the work of others, and with the work we’ve done before, with the world we live in. Everything touches. None of us writes alone, and none of us succeeds alone. Everything good that has happened in my life has happened thanks to other people—their goodness and generosity, their teachings and feedback, their inspiration and care.”

• “Your work might wake someone up from a deep sleep. It might help them rediscover their sense of wonder. It might make them feel seen, heard, and understood. It might give them hope.”

Abdaal grounds these same sentiments in reminders that leaning on our connections is good for us. I know, listen up, all my hyperindependent girlies. He reminds us that “life is more fun with friends around,” and that one of the great documented “energizers” is other people. This starts with being a team player and “treating the people you’re working with as comrades rather than competitors” (sounds like that Smith quote above about only competing with yourself)—lend a hand where you can, and ask for help when you need one extended back to you.

And don’t be afraid to put out whatever you think might be useful to others. At the very least, he says, “by sharing your techniques and strategies with others, you’ll be able to refine your own skills and gain new insights into the process.” And at best?

“If you’re concerned that you’re not ‘qualified’ enough to teach someone else, it’s worth remembering that the people we learn from best are often the ones who are just a step ahead of us in the journey. So anyone can become a teacher. You don’t need to be a guru. You can just be a guide.”³

fourth

But don’t forget, above all, to connect with yourself.

Smith reminds us that “first and foremost, you need to protect your inner life... When we create, we all use different materials… but our main material is our consciousness. Ourselves. Taking care of yourself is taking care of your art.”

Abdaal takes this a step further and gives us (me) the tools to understand and combat burnout. This section feels particularly important to me, because we bandy this term around so much, but I see so much less discussion about what to do about it. He discusses three controllable sources of burnout, and you combat each one really differently:

1. Overextertion from simply doing too much. The answer, of course, is to… do less. Stop overcommitting. Resist distractions that drain your energy. Find as many moments to be still and do nothing as you can. Easier said than done, perhaps, but also probably important to practice prioritizing and saying NO where needed!

2. Not enough real, restorative rest. The best rest isn’t just rotting—it’s time in nature, or movement, or that connection discussed above. He also mentions CALM projects: ones that make you feel Competent, Autonomous, Liberated, and Mellow. This made me think about creative burnout, and the ways activities that might once have been CALM have lost one or more of those factors. Maybe there’s a new project just for you that puts you back in that space.

3. Misalignment. I am of the humble opinion that this is one of the most important—and most unrecognized and unaddressed—sources of burnout. It happens when you’re putting energy into something that isn’t aligned with your values. The fix is to refocus on the long-term—on what you want to accomplish in a year, or what you want your eulogy to read when you die. Then, work backwards. Pick a few short-term actions to get you closer to that vision. Reassess what you’re doing and where it’s moving you and watch the burden lift.

So, back to my questions: How do you take care of your mind and creativity in times of stress? How do you know when you need discipline, and when you need ease and gentleness? What might it look like to let something be easy?

I’m sure someone else reading these books would find their own answers, but mine are: Be restless, try new things, and treat it all as an experiment. Be alive to your own process. Maybe discipline isn’t as important as fun—remember all those moments where you can’t stop creating because you can’t think of anything you’d rather be doing? (But still, don’t forget to lie down sometimes.) Am I burning myself out, or can I simply approach the process with a little more playfulness and curiosity?

And when in doubt, ask: who am I trying to connect to with this piece? Who can I help, and who can I ask for help? And is there a way I can connect more with myself in this process?

loving 💕

Phew! Now, a few things that have been buoying me this month:

• On the Bleachers pod!!! I’ve been listening to this since episode one and tbh can’t believe I haven’t screamed about it here yet. It’s such a fun, thoughtful way to catch up on, learn about, and consider the latest sports news, and I’m always overjoyed when Sarah and Zan release a new episode.

• Nassie. Idk when I last got so immersed in shipping influencers I know literally nothing about, but oh man, ever since one of their videos crossed my feed, I was in deep. Just obsessed with people finding love from the comfort of their own bedrooms I guess.

• Going to the rodeo?! I simply love infiltrating a very different sub-culture and immersing myself in it like an anthropologist. I fear I’m about to reread everything Elsie Silver has ever written and to finally embark on the Lyla Sage backlist.

• Regina Black’s substack. A few years ago I heard her speak at The Ripped Bodice for the launch of The Art of Scandal, and I was madly scribbling notes throughout the whole talk. I’m so glad The Critical Heart is serving up more of her brilliant thoughts on romance on a regular, digital basis.

• Sketching, doodling, and all the Substacks filling my feed of people making daily, low-stakes art. I used to draw a lot when I was young, but am not very good—still, it’s calming and lovely and hobby-shaped?!

• Tying my stability to the Duolingo owl once again. Oh, I am so subject to the tyranny of a streak (and that is why I sometimes am reluctant to restart after I let one lapse), but I love letting my little brain stretch. Which these days means brushing up on my rusty Czech, baby!!

• Mentally re-entering my Parks and Rec era. I had a Galentine’s dinner with some friends, we referenced treat yo’ self every few minutes, and gosh, I think the reminders of local action and focusing on your community and having hope for a better future are helping me a lot right now. Might be time for a full rewatch.

• Actually re-entering my Sabrina the Teenage Witch era. This show was my one true love as a tween—I vividly remember watching it at 5pm after school and taping it any time I had to miss it (usually because of late choir practice lol; yes I know this reference dates me). But the latest “this is where my lore started” trend reminded me that THIS IS WHERE MY LORE STARTED. And now I’m back, because we need to nurture our inner children during these trying times.

• Treating Substack as my favorite social platform—I’m over here in the Notes section jotting letters to no one and wow the freedom!!

lately ⏳

My cover reveal went live at the end of January, and that means this book is finally A BOOK TO THE GENERAL PUBLIC. Publishing is wild, as most people reading this newsletter know; this book has been real to me and my writer friends for a while now, but this was the first moment I could share a link that makes it real to everyone else. The aftermath has made my heart grow three sizes. From distant family members texting congratulations to discovering my neighbor is a Goodreads librarian to friends sending screenshots of them hitting the “notify me” button in their Libby apps, there have been so many little moments that served as big reminders.

I don’t know about you all, but I feel so lucky to be surrounded by so many brilliant, successful, creative people—and sometimes that can make me feel as if this is not a big deal? So this month, I’m especially grateful for the people who remind me in ways big and small that writing a book is a tremendous feat, and I’m shouting that in the ear of all the people reading (you know who you are) who undersell their own accomplishments. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: I’m trying to cherish the little moments of gratitude all along this journey to publication.

Just in case you missed it. And because I will never stop being delighted by it.

Speaking of writing a book… I finished and sent off the draft of something new this month! I’m so proud of this story already, and I’m so excited to share more with you soon. But that’s all for now I suppose. 🤐 🤫

Finally, I am really loving being on Substack more, as mentioned above… so if I start posting more than my end-of-month round-up, don’t be surprised? Perhaps more regular musings about current questions in my writing life, more reviews of romance media that makes me think, more resources/love lists?? I may be biting off far more than I can chew, but there’s something really delightful about exploring a mode of writing that’s different from what I usually do.

I told a friend recently that my favorite newsletters are always the result of opening a blank draft and knowing there’s something I want to untangle my own thoughts about. I started this one with a very loose list of bullet points, and then it turned into a list of quotations, and then I realized there were CONNECTIONS between those quotations, and I started over so I could reorganize it into the most fruitful connections—and by the time it was over, I left with a personal manifesto!⁴ There’s something so wonderful about that. I always tell my students that a great essay’s thesis emerges from following the evidence where it leads, and starting with a trial thesis is fine, but please leave yourself open to revising that sucker by the time you finish! I remind them that “essay” comes from “assay”—to try. To attempt.

So these newsletters are a good reminder for me to put my money where my mouth is. To open up the doc and follow the bullet points where they lead, and stay present and reflective to collect the insights as they emerge. I’m always happy I wrote to you, and I hope that means something makes you happy you read it, too.

Okay, that’s enough for now. I hope the month of love brought you tenderness in whatever way you needed. See you in March! 👋

Much love,

🤍 Emily

1. The book is full of wonderful reading lists and writing exercises, so it really feels like a must-have for the writers who are reading this newsletter. I wish I could have talked about these exercises even more in this edition, but this sucker is long enough, and you should get ahold of the full the book anyway.

2. HELLO. IF YOU HAVE BEEN HERE A WHILE YOU KNOW WHAT THIS MEANS TO ME. I have been too busy to be on the wall much this year, but I miss it 😭

3. I actually actively remind myself of this every time I’m like “who are you to be writing a newsletter, Emily??”

4. I have a bad habit of collecting quotes and screenshots and scribbled notes but never reviewing them enough. I always want to do that more—to try to find the connections between ideas, and take more action on them, like in ye olde commonplace book—and this month’s newsletter helped me do that!! Hopefully the start of a new tradition. 🤞