The story starts the same way every time: me staring at a blank page like it just insulted my mother. The cursor blinks, mocking me—taunting me to conjure some groundbreaking piece of work that people will actually want to read. That’s how creativity can feel some days: elusive, temperamental, and as unreliable as the person who texts, “You up?” at 2 a.m. without ever following through. But over the years, I’ve learned that spinning stories and generating ideas isn’t about waiting for inspiration to strike like lightning. It’s about creating rituals that summon the muse, one habit at a time.

So, let’s get into it. Here are the tried-and-true creative routines that have fueled my voice, shaped my storytelling, and, on occasion, saved my sanity.

Morning Pages (AKA, Journaling While Half-Asleep)

Before my day officially begins, I sit down with my notebook (a worn, leather-bound one that looks like something a 19th-century poet would weep over) and fill three pages, stream-of-consciousness style. It’s not fancy or profound. In fact, most of it reads like:
“Why do squirrels fight so much? Is there a metaphor here or am I just avoiding that one article draft? Anyway, I miss Saturday morning cartoons.”

The point of this unfiltered brain-dump isn’t to create something glamorous. It’s to clear out the cobwebs, the self-doubt, and the mental clutter that distracts me. Think of it as emotional decluttering for the creative mind—a Marie Kondo moment where everything that’s NOT sparking inspiration gets dumped onto the page.

Try this:
- Dedicate 15 minutes each morning to write without worrying about grammar, structure, or actual purpose. You’ll be amazed at how much mental space this clears up.
- Bonus points if you find a quiet spot and pair it with a cup of coffee or tea—the creative fuel of choice.

Walking the Marshlands: Where Romance Meets Reflection

Growing up in Charleston, the marshes always felt like an extension of my soul. There’s something about standing at the edge of an endless horizon—where greenery meets water meets sky—that forces me into a headspace of quiet contemplation. It’s equal parts meditation and muse meeting.

When I’m stuck (like REALLY stuck), I lace up my sneakers and go for a walk along the water. No phone. No podcasts. Just me, the squish of mud underfoot, and the occasional crane giving me side-eye like I’ve wandered onto its turf. By the time I get back, there’s always an idea—a character, a sentence, maybe just one word begging to be written.

Pro tip: You don’t need a marsh (but if you’re near one, 10/10 would recommend). A walk in any green space—your backyard, a city park, or heck, even a tree-lined sidewalk—can do wonders for unlocking flow. There’s a reason romantic comedies always include those big thinking walks after a failed date or awkward moment. They work.

Channeling the Ancestors (No, Really)

One of the most important creative rituals I’ve developed comes courtesy of the stories my grandparents told me as a child. They always said, “You can’t understand who you are until you understand where you come from.” To honor that wisdom, I keep certain symbols of my heritage close: an embroidered handkerchief from my grandmother, a worn copy of Zora Neale Hurston’s Their Eyes Were Watching God, and one of my favorite Gullah-inspired sweetgrass baskets.

Before I write, I spend time reflecting on the people and places that shaped me. I ask myself: How would their voices tell this story? What matters to our legacy here? Writing, in so many ways, is my way of preserving those histories, even when I’m spinning fictional tales.

Actionable tip:
- Surround yourself with artifacts or mementos that tie you to your essence. It could be an heirloom, a photo, or even a playlist that reminds you of your roots. Writing from a place of identity is like seasoning a pot of gumbo: the flavor will be richer, more complex, and 100% your own.

The Gospel of Beyoncé and Other Soundtracks to Success

If you’ve never sat down with a creative project and listened to Beyoncé’s Lemonade from start to finish, you’re missing out on a whole experience. Music, particularly soulful music steeped in emotion, is non-negotiable in my creative rituals. Some days, I need the bounce of a James Brown track. Other days, it’s a Carolina gospel choir lifting what feels like the weight of my ancestors. And yes, I’ve been known to blast Missy Elliott when I need a major confidence boost. (Work It is basically a hype-man in MP3 form.)

The key to this ritual is pairing the right music with the vibe you want. Writing a tender scene in a novel? Cue the haunting strings of an acoustic guitar. Brainstorming a bold, take-no-prisoners blog post? Let’s lean into Kendrick Lamar’s HUMBLE and call it a day.

Your playlist recommendations:
- For focus: Instrumental jazz, lo-fi beats, or soulful piano covers.
- For energy: Anything pop, hip-hop, or upbeat gospel.
- For emotional depth: Folk, blues, or acoustic Americana.

Cooking My Way Out of Writer’s Block

Here’s a secret: when I can’t write, I cook. Nothing clears my mind and sparks new ideas like getting my hands dirty in the kitchen—chopping onions, measuring out obscure spices, and whipping up something my Gullah ancestors could be proud of (shrimp and grits, you will forever have my heart). Cooking forces me to focus on something tactile and, dare I say, life-affirming. Plus, there’s nothing quite like feeding yourself well to remind you that creativity, much like a good gumbo, takes patience and experimentation.

Relatable metaphor incoming: Relationships and recipes aren’t so different. You won’t always have all the right ingredients, and sometimes what you’re trying to create falls completely flat. But when you keep showing up—adjusting the seasoning, learning from the mistakes—you eventually land on something deeply satisfying.

Keeping it Real (And Rewarding)

Of course, not every ritual I’ve developed is steeped in nostalgia or profound reflection. Some of them are just plain indulgent. Whenever I finish a big project—or hit a major milestone—I treat myself. Most of the time, it’s something simple, like a slice of sweet potato pie from my favorite spot downtown. (Side note: Anyone who tells you they don’t believe in food-based rewards has never tasted a pie worth celebrating.)

These little rewards are like mini flirts with myself—a playful wink that says, “See? You did it. You deserve this.” Call it cheesy. Call it self-care. Either way, I find it keeps the creative energy flowing, reminding me to celebrate the wins, big or small.

Final Thoughts: Romance Your Creative Process

If there’s one thing I’ve learned about creativity, it’s this: you’ve got to romance it. Woo it like you’re on the date of your life, lights twinkling, laughter flowing, and no one checking their phone. Creativity doesn’t just show up. You have to invite it, nurture it, and make space for it to thrive.

So, light that candle, take that walk, put on your favorite playlist, or stir your way out of stagnation. Your creativity deserves to be loved on, one ritual at a time. And believe me—when you invest in it, it’ll return the favor tenfold. Now go build yourself a creative life that feeds your soul. Trust me—you’ve got this.