Rituals of Creativity: How I Keep the Words Flowing

The Magic Hour: Why Mornings (Reluctantly) Work for Me

Let’s be clear: I am not a morning person. The only thing that gets me out of bed before 9 a.m. is the promise of a chai latte—extra frothy, because life’s too short for weak foam. Yet somehow, my best creative ideas come during what I like to call “the half-conscious haze” of the early morning. You know, that dreamy space where you’re not entirely sure if you’re awake or still starring in whatever bizarre cinema your subconscious conjured last night (once, it involved a raccoon teaching me tax law—don’t ask).

So, I’ve learned to lean into this magic hour. I roll out of bed, no scrolling allowed, and shuffle over to my kitchen nook-slash-writing desk. With my latte steaming beside me and my notebook ready, I scribble every wild, unfiltered thought that emerges. Most of it? Utter nonsense. But buried in the mess? Gems. A quirky phrase, a snippet of dialogue, a random metaphor that ends up tying an entire story together. Creativity, much like love, often shows up when you least expect it.

Tip for readers: Your brain might not work best in the confines of a nine-to-five schedule. Find your personal creative window—whether it’s early mornings, late nights, or a stolen lunch break—and protect it like Beyoncé protects her creative control.

Backpack Walks & Window Peeping

Writers block? It happens to all of us, even those who claim to adore the process (liars, the lot of them). When I’m stuck, I grab my modestly scuffed leather backpack—because, let’s face it, no self-respecting Montreal native would dare leave home without one—and head out for a walk.

Montreal was made for aimless wandering. The Plateau’s colorful murals, its mix of crumbling charm and hipster cafés, Old Montreal’s cobbled streets that still whisper secrets of centuries past—I drink it all in. And, yes, I window-peep. Without shame. Sometimes through the glass of a café where someone’s energetically typing away on their laptop, or into a stranger’s living room when the lights are bright and curtains are (mysteriously) wide open. I’m not snooping; I’m story-hunting. There’s something about being surrounded by life—messy, vibrant, unfolding life—that loosens my creative knots.

Once, I saw an elderly couple arguing over how to carry two baguettes (yes, this happened in France, but it echoes Quebec vibes). The scene inspired an entire passage in one of my books about the little spats that, somehow, become the glue of long-term love.

Tip for readers: Don’t underestimate the power of movement—and voyeurism (the innocent kind, obviously). Creativity thrives on observation. Don’t just look for inspiration; let it find you while you’re out living.

French Music and Candlelit Drafting

Writing is a romantic act. Even if what you’re writing is an overdue email to your boss or an “It’s not you, it’s me” text (which, let’s be honest, might actually be you). For me, setting the mood for creativity is non-negotiable. Like date prep but with fewer outfits and more vibes.

First, music. Always French. Coeur de pirate if I’m feeling particularly whimsical, or Stromae when I need energy with a bit of broodiness (is there anything sexier than melancholy in a minor key?). Next, candles—yes, plural—or the soft amber glow of fairy lights: lighting that makes me feel halfway between a 19th-century Parisian poet and a cozy Netflix rom-com heroine.

And then, I write. Or try to. Some days, it’s magic. Others, it’s crickets. But the ritual reminds me that creativity is like flirting—it’s about showing up, trying your best, and understanding that not everything will land.

Tip for readers: Whether it’s candles, music, or a special spot by your window, cultivate your own creative ambiance. Your work deserves to feel special—like the main character moment it is.

A Glass of Wine and the Deadline Dance

Have you ever procrastinated so much that the existential panic of an approaching deadline unlocks superhuman levels of focus? Same.

For all my rituals and aesthetics, there’s something strangely … comforting about the chaos of a last-minute sprint. Late at night, with a glass of Sauvignon Blanc perched precariously near my keyboard (I live dangerously), it’s like my brain finally clicks into place. Words flow. Connections spark. Ideas I second-guessed all day suddenly make sense.

I call this the Deadline Dance: that glorious combination of adrenaline and self-trust. Is it sustainable? No. Is it oddly effective? Absolutely.

Tip for readers: Don’t beat yourself up about deadlines—they’re not the enemy. Sometimes the best creativity thrives under a little pressure, paired with just the right amount of red or white.

Love What Fuels You

Here’s the unfiltered truth about creativity: It’s messy. It’s stubborn. It won’t always call you back when you need it. But, like any good relationship, it’s worth fighting for. My rituals—from foggy mornings to baguette-inspired walks—are my way of reminding myself to show up for it, even when it feels impossible.

And the thing is, your rituals don’t have to look anything like mine or anyone else’s. Find what works for you, whether it’s scribbling poetry on napkins, singing in the shower, or knitting while brainstorming your next big idea. No matter your approach, make space for the magic, and trust it will show up—even if, like love, it sometimes runs fashionably late.

Keep creating. You’ve got this.