As a novelist and someone who writes about relationships for a living, you might think my creative process unfolds like a montage from a Netflix drama: soft natural light spilling over a desk stacked with leather-bound notebooks, the steady tapping of keys as inspiration flows effortlessly from mind to page. The reality? It’s more like trying to wrangle a wild cat while someone plays “Jeopardy!” at full volume in the background. Creativity, for me, has less to do with cosmic bursts of genius and more to do with building small, intentional rituals to tether my daydreaming mind to the task at hand.
Whether you’re looking for ways to spark creativity in your art—or ways to stay grounded while navigating the emotional chaos of modern dating—these practices might just surprise you.
Morning Pages: A Judgment-Free Zone
I start most mornings with what I call two cups of coffee and a brain dump. The concept of “morning pages” isn’t new—Julia Cameron popularized it in The Artist’s Way—but I’ve given the ritual my own Carrie Mayfield twist. Armed with a cup of very strong coffee (later replaced by its much chicer cousin, an iced vanilla latte), I sit down to scribble three pages of unfiltered thoughts in a spiral notebook. The goals aren’t lofty: venting about why my neighbor’s dog HOWLS at 6 a.m., pondering whether I should text my best friend about that cryptic Instagram Story she posted, or brainstorming ways to make my latest character funnier.
Why this works: It’s like cleaning out the closet of your mind. Once the angsty clutter is gone, you’re free to make room for what really matters—creativity, clarity, and maybe a little self-compassion. This practice is also brilliant for dating. Overthinking how that date went last night? Writing it out can help you process without texting your best friend nine “do you think they like me?” variations. Cool, calm, caffeinated—you’re welcome.
The Right Soundtrack Changes Everything
Every creative project I tackle—whether it’s a short story or the endless revisions of my latest novel—needs its own playlist. I’ll admit, I approach this with the enthusiasm of someone curating music for a wedding (both sides of my personality included: a little high society, a little sweat-on-the-dancefloor energy).
While writing my first novel, I looped Erykah Badu’s “On & On” until I accidentally started telling people to “stay woke” with Badu-level gravitas. When I’m diving into articles like this one, my go-to sound tends to be jazz or lo-fi beats. Also, does anyone else find that the Pride and Prejudice film score makes mundane administrative tasks feel impossibly elegant? It’s highly underrated.
Practical tip: Build different playlists based on the zones you need to get into. Creating that dating profile? Go for something upbeat; Lizzo or Harry Styles will hype you up appropriately. Recovering from a breakup? Adele—but maybe in moderation, so you don’t spiral into the deep end before brunch plans. Music is an atmospheric cheat code; use it wisely.
The Charm of Getting Out of Your Own Way
Creativity often strikes when I step away from my computer and do something completely unrelated to writing. For me, that’s wandering through one of Atlanta’s art galleries or antique stores. There’s something oddly satisfying about getting lost in the specifics of a vintage chandelier I can’t afford or guessing the backstory behind some mysterious oil painting. Plus, it feels productive without the pressure of deadlines.
Here’s a weird little confession: I’ve also been known to find character inspiration from eavesdropping at coffee shops. (Don’t act like you don’t do it, too.) People-watching unlocks something primal and curious. Case in point: During a particularly uneventful writing chapter, I once overheard a couple in heated debate over whose turn it was to clean the air fryer. The stakes were high. That conversation? Now immortalized in my fictional characters’ dialogue.
Dating corollary: Sometimes in love (and life), creativity means knowing when to stop trying so hard. The best stories—romantic or otherwise—often unfold when you’re busy focusing on something else entirely. Schedule that walk. Read that book. Engage with the world, even if it’s messy.
Cocktail Hour (or the Mocktail Kind)
Around 5 p.m., a creative shift happens. I close the Word document, light a candle—peony-scented, if you’re curious—and pour myself an Aperol spritz (or an elderflower soda if the day requires a milder vibe). I’ll sit on the patio when the weather cooperates and take a mental inventory of what worked for me creatively that day. Did I write that clever line of dialogue? Did I actually hit “publish” on a scary-but-important thought? And most importantly, did I enjoy the process?
The world can guilt us into thinking that self-reflection has to be serious or somber. Personally? I prefer mine served with a citrus garnish. Real Housewives of Atlanta plays quietly in the background at times, because nothing humbles you like watching someone flip over a table. Love it or hate it, it’s a masterclass in conflict resolution. Or instigation. Either way, there are lessons.
Applications for your love life: Date yourself first. Spend quiet time with who you are (yes, candles are encouraged) before you pour your energy into a relationship. You’ll thank yourself later.
The Magic of “Assignment-Free” Creativity
Every now and again, I take a break from work to focus on something purely creative but entirely unrelated to deadlines, word counts, or edits. Lately, that’s been painting. (Disclaimer: I am not good at it.) I recently tried to replicate a Charleston tidal marsh at sunset, only to end up with a mushy blend of croissant beige. But here’s the thing—there’s something freeing about not needing to be good at something to enjoy it.
For all my single readers out there, this rule applies to dating, too. Try something new together. A cooking class that may result in nearly inedible sushi? Iconic bonding moment. A pottery wheel class where neither of you achieves even a Ghost-inspired moment of grace? Still creative, still worth doing.
Conclusion: Rituals Are the Real Love Language
When done well, rituals don’t box you in—they give you freedom. They’re a gentle reminder that creativity (and love) isn’t about bursting through doors with glittering, show-stopping brilliance. It’s built drip by drip, habit by habit. Whether it’s morning pages, a playlist that sets the mood, or simply indulging in a ritual you adore, you’re showing up for your craft—and for yourself.
So light that candle, grab your notebook, or dive into something absurdly new. You don’t need a perfect plan or polished skills—just a willingness to explore. Creativity and connection will take care of the rest.
