O Is For… Observation!

Writer Zen Garden Posted on by  

Contributed by Nicole.

Observation for writers is both a key factor and our personal hell. We observe our environment, people and the world around us and transmit that through our writing. It’s our personal hell because how you transmit those observations can be very difficult.

In the case of a fiction writers, how a character examines and interacts with their environment affects the narrative. How you communicate their observations has to be tailored to the individual or to the situation. For instance, a ten-year-old child is going to view the world in a significantly different way from a battle-hardened veteran. The way the information is relayed to the reader sets the tone and drives the story.

Observation can be a tool to get yourself out of a rut. I take a blank notebook to a busy place like a park or a mall food court and watch people. Why is that particular woman going into the jewelry store? Is she picking up a gift? Is she arranging to have her jewelry cleaned? Maybe she just learned that her partner is cheating on her and she’s buying something to make herself feel beautiful and valued. What about the buff looking guy grabbing pizza? Is he cheating on his diet plan and worried that his coach will find out? Maybe he’s an MME fighter and he’s plotting ways to impress the female opponent who beat him last week and he knows that she hits the smoothie place next door? Looking around and asking ‘why’ and ‘what if’ is an affective way to take your characters in new directions or have them approach a problem in a different way.

Observation becomes a writer’s personal hell because we are compelled to relay how we view the world and that is difficult. Finding the words to give a picture that can be understood is hard-don’t let anyone tell you differently.

In the end, writers are observers and the way we communicate our views is how we write, so ‘O’ is for ‘Observation’.

N Is For… Noon & Wilder!

Writer Zen Garden Posted on by

Stylized logo of Noon & Wilder with the ampersand appearing as a stylized fox. Colors are lavender and silver gradient.By Noony — The A to Z of Creative Practice

Every creative partnership has its own rhythm — a shared language, a shared spark, a shared sense of “oh, you too?” For me, that partnership is Noon & Wilder, the writing duo I’ve been part of since 2008/2009, published together since 2010. What started as two writers cheering each other on became a creative ecosystem all its own.

Noon & Wilder is where my imagination stretches out and breathes. It’s where queer magic, found family, emotional intelligence, and a little bit of mischief all meet on the page. It’s also where collaboration becomes a creative practice in itself.

The Magic of Creative Partnership

Writing with a partner means:

  • you’re never creating alone
  • ideas bounce instead of stagnate
  • someone else sees the story from a new angle
  • you get to surprise each other
  • the work becomes bigger than either of you individually

There’s a special kind of alchemy that happens when two imaginations braid together. Noon & Wilder has always been that for me — a place where creativity feels expansive, playful, and deeply rooted.

Creative Practice as Relationship

Noon & Wilder isn’t just a pen name. It’s a relationship built on:

  • trust
  • curiosity
  • shared worldbuilding
  • mutual encouragement
  • and the willingness to say, “Let’s try it and see what happens.”

Some days, creative practice looks like drafting chapters. Some days, it looks like talking through character arcs. Some days, it looks like sending each other memes and saying, “This is absolutely our protagonist.”

It all counts. It all feeds the work.

The Stories We Tell

Our books live in the realm of queer urban fantasy — shifters, magic, circles, bonds, found family, and characters who grow not just in power, but in emotional depth. We write about:

  • belonging
  • chosen family
  • identity
  • courage
  • and the messy, beautiful work of becoming yourself

Noon & Wilder stories are warm, witchy, queer, and full of heart — the kind of books that invite you into a world and say, “Stay awhile.”

Creative Practice, Together

For this A–Z Challenge, “N” felt like the perfect moment to honor the creative partnership that shaped so much of my writing life. Noon & Wilder is a reminder that creativity doesn’t have to be solitary. It can be shared, nurtured, and co‑created.

And honestly? It’s a joy.

Do you have a creative partner, community, or collaborator who helps your imagination grow? Tell us about them — or tag them so they know they’re appreciated.

M Is For…Muse! (and Making Space for It)

Writer Zen Garden Posted on by

Contributed by Tina Holland.

It feels a little strange to talk about muses in the modern age.

And yet… I’ve had one.

He was an elderly chocolate lab named Kaiser, who used to sit with me. Or, more accurately, nap while I wrote. My husband liked to say, “I see Kaiser is musing”—turning it into a verb, of course.

These days, the “office” looks a little different. The cats (Dopey Darkness and Thomas O’Malley Cat) and the dogs (Kraken and Indigo) often beat me there. If they’re already settled in, my husband will say, “You’re late—the rest of the office is already in.”

It makes me laugh, but there’s something quietly true about it too.

Because maybe the muse isn’t some distant, mystical force.

Maybe it’s presence.

You’ve probably heard the phrase “feed your muse.” In creative practice, that usually means stepping away from the work itself and doing something adjacent—reading, crafting, walking, daydreaming. For me, it’s often scrapbooking or getting lost in a good book.

These moments matter. Not because they produce immediate results, but because they refill something deeper. Every so often, they spark an idea or unlock a stubborn scene—but even when they don’t, they’re still doing important work.

In a world that constantly pulls at our attention, the modern muse can feel elusive. Not gone—just… drowned out.

So the question becomes: how do we make space to hear it again?

For me, it’s intentional quiet.

When I’m blocked or overwhelmed, I carve out time with no distractions—no TV, no phone, no scrolling. Just me, a book, or a simple creative project. I don’t pressure myself to write in those moments. In fact, I try not to think about writing at all.

Because the truth is, when I’m blocked, I’m a little fragile.

And staring at a blank screen, willing the words to come, usually makes it worse.

So instead, I step away.

Over time, I’ve learned to give that space a little more room—to treat it not as avoidance, but as part of the process. A necessary pause. A quiet reset.

And more often than not, when I return… the words are waiting.

Maybe the muse was there all along.

Just… resting at my feet.

Your turn: What helps you reconnect when your creativity feels out of reach?

L Is For… Liberation!

Writer Zen Garden Posted on by

By JaeSage (Trauma and grief specialist by day, creative polymath by night)

According to the classic “biographical novel” The Agony and the Ecstasy (Irving Stone, 1961), Michelangelo was claimed to have said that he freed the prisoners trapped in the marble when he sculpted his masterworks. He didn’t see himself as an inventor of forms, but rather as a deliverer. To him, the statue already existed within the stone; his chisel was merely the tool of emancipation. This perspective shifts the act of creation from one of “making” to one of “finding,” and it is a sentiment that resonates deeply with anyone who has ever felt the pull of a creative spark.

When I create something, it feels to me as if I am liberating elements of the stories from a twilight existence that they occupy in my mind’s eye. There is a specific, ethereal space where ideas dwell—a sort of waiting room for the imagination. These concepts aren’t quite ghosts, but they aren’t yet real, either. They are half-formed silhouettes, flickering in the periphery of my consciousness, waiting for the invitation to step forward into the world of substance.

Image of the artist's workspace with tools and a partially-completed canvas, with the artist's hand holding a light blue pencil, drawing sky and clouds.

Image Copyright 2026, JaeSage. All rights reserved. Used with Permission.

The Emergence of Form

My hobby dabbling is nothing as grandiose as the Renaissance creator’s, of course; however, the operating principle is the same. I may not be carving David out of Carrara marble, but the inner weight of an unexpressed idea feels remarkably similar to a block of stone. It is heavy, silent, and full of potential. Whether I am painting a landscape or crafting a character or place, I can feel them emerge from that realm of ideas.

The process is often more of a discovery than a construction. I can see the formation of the trees along a woodland path, or hear my characters speak as they walk into the light. It is as if they are whispering their own details to me, telling me which branch should curve toward the sun or which word a character would use to express their hidden fears. As the brush moves or the keyboard clicks, the fog in my mind clears. No longer imprisoned by my imagination, they arise, fully formed, into the life on the canvas or the page.

I have never questioned the process; I have merely lived it. Since I could hold a pencil or paintbrush, the freeing of a subject from that place of shadow existence has been like a flow from mind to hand to surface. It is a fundamental part of my rhythm. In my childhood, it was the simple liberation of a doodle from a blank margin; today, it is the more complex release of a narrative or a vista. This “flow state” is where time becomes irrelevant and the boundary between the internal and external worlds thins.

Image of a two-page spread of the author's artist's journal with the word "Validate!" in fancy script in the center surrounded by other smaller words and coloring.

Image copyright 2026 by JaeSage, All Rights Reserved. Used with permission.

The Reciprocal Act of Freeing

As I solve the puzzles of how to apply the better tone or color or phrase, there emerges my own liberation, my growth and confidence. Every creative act requires us to confront a series of micro-challenges. How do I capture the exact hue of a post-storm sky? How do I structure a sentence so it carries the weight of an awkward silence? In the act of answering these questions, I am not just refining a piece of art; I am refining myself. Each successful stroke of the brush or turn of a phrase acts as a key, unlocking a little more of my own potential and self-assurance.

There is a profound therapeutic quality to this release. As I free my mind from tension and worry, I experience a kind of awe of what I was able to create. The stressors of the day—the emails, the intensive meetings, the lingering anxieties—are often the very “marble” that needs to be chipped away. When I focus entirely on the act of liberation, those worries lose their grip. They are replaced by a sense of wonder that something new now exists where there was once only a void or a blur.

In the end, the act of creation is a reciprocal relationship. I lean in, and I liberate, and I learn. I liberate the idea from its shadowy prison, and in doing so, the process liberates me. It reminds me that I have the agency to bring light to dark places and form to the formless. Through this quiet, persistent act of freeing the “prisoners” of my imagination, I find my own freedom, one stroke and one word at a time.

Image of painting by the author, with a walking path on the right, yellow grass on the left and a lake in the middle with sky above.

Image copyright 2026 by JaeSage, All Rights Reserved. Used with permission.

K Is For… Kindness, Keeping Momentum, and Knowing When to Pause

Writer Zen Garden Posted on by

By Noony — The A to Z of Creative Practice

Creative practice isn’t a straight line. It’s not a sprint, and it’s not a test of endurance. It’s a relationship — with your imagination, your energy, your body, and your life. And like any relationship, it thrives when we treat it with a blend of compassion, consistency, and rest.

Today’s K‑post brings together three pillars that support a sustainable creative life: Kindness, Keeping Momentum, and Knowing When to Pause.

Kindness: The Foundation of Creative Growth

We’re often taught that creativity requires discipline, grit, or pushing through resistance. But in reality, the most powerful creative breakthroughs come when we treat ourselves with gentleness.

Kindness looks like:

  • giving yourself permission to be a beginner
  • celebrating small wins
  • acknowledging the emotional labor behind creative work
  • letting yourself rest without guilt
  • recognizing that your nervous system is part of your creative ecosystem

When we approach our practice with kindness, we create space for curiosity and play — the true engines of creativity.

 

Keeping Momentum: Small Steps, Big Shifts

Momentum doesn’t come from huge bursts of effort. It comes from tiny, repeatable actions that keep you connected to your creative self.

Momentum can be:

  • writing one paragraph
  • sketching for five minutes
  • jotting down a single idea
  • reading a page
  • revising one sentence

These micro‑movements keep the creative door open. They remind your brain, “We’re doing this. We’re still in the flow.” And over time, they build a body of work.

Momentum isn’t speed — it’s continuity.

Knowing When to Pause: Rest as Creative Practice

Every creative cycle has a natural ebb and flow. Pausing isn’t failure — it’s part of the rhythm.

Knowing when to pause means:

  • listening when your body says “enough”
  • stepping back when life is loud
  • letting ideas simmer
  • trusting that rest is productive
  • honoring your capacity

A pause is not the end of momentum. It’s the breath that makes the next movement possible.

 

The Blend: A Creative Practice That Sustains You

When you combine kindness, momentum, and rest, you create a practice that supports you through:

  • busy seasons
  • emotional days
  • low‑energy moments
  • bursts of inspiration
  • long-term projects

Creativity becomes less about forcing output and more about tending a living, breathing relationship with your imagination.

So today, let K remind you:

Be kind to yourself. Keep moving in small ways. And pause when you need to.

Your creative practice will meet you exactly where you are.

 

What’s one small act of kindness you can offer your creative self today?

J is for Journaling to Join the Dots: Idea Generation and Fruition

Writer Zen Garden Posted on by
Image of author's recent pages visited with words like "reinvigorate," "More story ideas," and "Artsy CARD greetings."

Image provided by author, used with permission.

By JaeSage (Trauma and grief specialist by day, creative polymath by night)

Let me introduce my creative self. I have a full, satisfying career that is at times high pressure, dazzlingly busy, and both emotionally and intellectually challenging. I work long days that would suck the life out of me if I didn’t love it so much. I belong there. However, a job like mine requires that caring for the self is paramount to being able to continue the work. To hold space for the trauma and grief of others, I must ensure my own internal reservoir is replenished.

My self-care mostly consists of nature walks, sipping lattes in crowded college coffee shops, writing novels, and painting landscapes. These activities are not merely hobbies; they are the essential counterweights to the weight of my professional life. They allow me to transition from the intensity of the clinic to the expansive freedom of the studio.

 

 

Jubilant ideas

Where do I start when the page is blank or the canvas is bare?

I have been frequently confused whenever folks tell me they struggle with searching for at least one idea of something to create. They share that they are so often stumped, paralyzed by the vast whiteness of an empty sheet. My purely ego-centric puzzlement stems from my lifelong practice of having a heavily loaded journal of places, faces, conversations, landscapes, cityscapes, and so much more just waiting to be mined and formed into the parts of a project.

For me, the journal is the ultimate safety net against creative block. My idea generation comes from sketches, word lists, written observations, and endless lists of character names and descriptions. I am constantly harvesting the world around me. When I am in those crowded coffee shops, I am not just drinking caffeine; I am recording the rhythm of a stranger’s gait or the specific shade of a winter sky. Often I have so many ideas in the journal that it’s like trying to pick an outfit for the day from a full walk-in closet. The challenge is never “what to make,” but rather “which of these many seeds shall I plant today?”

The Jumping Off Point

Getting started with a project, for me, is like peeling the ideas from the journal and laying out what seems like a jigsaw puzzle. It is an act of curation and assembly. I look at a sketch of a gnarled oak tree from three years ago and pair it with a sentence I wrote last week about the feeling of resilience. Suddenly, I have a theme.

The greatest joy for me is the intricacy of putting it all together in a way that makes sense. It is the puzzle-solving nature of art that keeps me engaged after a long, taxing day of work. A path through a meadow begins to form on the canvas, appearing brushstroke by brushstroke as I reference my written notes on light and shadow. A path taken by a person who wants to preserve life in a chaotic environment walks across the manuscript page, their voice echoing the character descriptions I’ve tucked away in my margins.

The joy comes from the process of completing the project and knowing the next project is already forming a shape within those well-worn pages. My journal is a bridge between my two worlds—the specialist who witnesses the human struggle and the polymath who finds beauty and order in it. This is the journey that my journaling of ideas takes me on. This is my place of fulfillment and peace.

By keeping these records, I am never truly alone in the creative process; I am always accompanied by my past observations. I hope, dear fellow creatives, that your idea generators, however they appear to you, help you bring forth projects that give you the fulfillment you seek. May your own “closets” be full of inspiration, and may you find the same peace in the joining of your dots.

Image of artist's painting of a barn in the middle of a gold agricultural field, with green plants growing in the foreground and blue, cloud-filled sky above.

Image Copyright 2026 by JaeSage, All Rights Reserved. Used with Permission.

I Is For… Initiative!

Writer Zen Garden Posted on by

Contributed by Laura Rios.

Initiative: the ability to assess and initiate things independently. (Oxford Dictionary)

Ah, the ongoing struggle of anyone who works alone or pursues any creative endeavor. Make no mistake my friends, the struggle is real. Everyone has heard of writers’ block and the proverbial “dry spell”; they became stereotypical terms for a reason. We’ve all been there! So, how can we stay on track and productive without a supervisor, or assignments, or other external constructs designed to keep us moving forward?

One thing we can do is to establish that mindset for ourselves.

  • Use a daily or weekly calendar or journal to assign tasks on a regular basis. If that alone is not enough to get you going, add rewards along the way to sweeten the deal. “Finish chapter one” or “start the sweater for Aunt Jane’s birthday” might earn you a chocolate bar, a spa bath, or some television time with your favorite show.
  • Recruit a productivity pal so you can keep one another on task. Midweek, make a point of checking in on one another to see how things are going. Peer pressure is an actual thing, and besides, there is nothing like a gentle nudge from your bestie.
  • Join a group of other creative types and meet weekly or bi-weekly, even if it’s a virtual group. If you can’t find such a group, form one yourself by drawing from your circle of acquaintances, which might include co-workers, neighbors, friends from church, other clubs or societies, and so on. You’ll find encouragement and motivation when you surround yourself with like-minded people who appreciate what you’re doing and who will celebrate one another’s accomplishments.
  • Follow a Facebook group, newsletter, or blog that focuses on your particular creative interest. There are dozens (maybe hundreds!) of such entities. You do have to be a little careful with this one; joining and following too many may backfire when you allow them to occupy too much of your time. Still, there are plenty of benefits to finding a few excellent ones that truly prove to keep you inspired and motivated.
  • Start and maintain an idea list. I used to keep a small pocket notebook nearby for this purpose, but for years now the Notes app in my phone has been the handiest thing for recording those random “aha moments”. When you find yourself coming up empty, choose something from your idea list and get back to creating once again.

Remember, in any creative pursuit, ultimately it’s up to us to be self-starters. That doesn’t mean we can’t benefit from helpful tips, tricks, and a little help from our friends to maintain our own initiative when the going gets rough. Keep calm and create!

H Is For… Holland. Tina Holland.

Writer Zen Garden Posted on by

Contributed by Tina Holland.

Tina Holland is a pseudonym. My birth name is Kristinia. In my graduating class, there were at least twenty variations of “Chris,” so most of my friends ended up calling me Krissy.

It can be a little confusing for people who meet me as Tina and then hear others call me Krissy—but in a way, that duality feels fitting for a writer.

Holland is a family name, passed down from my great-grandfather, who worked as a typesetter for a newspaper. I didn’t know that when I chose it, but it feels a bit like fate now—like I was always meant to find my way into words.

I debated between Krissy Anders and Tina Holland. The latter simply sounded better to my ear… and eventually, it became the name I built a creative life around.

I’ve been Tina Holland for over twenty years. In that time, I’ve become an author—nearly full-time—talking about writing, publishing, and books as part of my everyday life. If I’m lucky, people want to talk about those things with me, too.

I’ve built a small local following and maintain a quieter presence online compared to others. Still, I’ve published nearly twenty stories across a range of romance subgenres—and I’m proud of every one.

The name Tina Holland has served me well.

Would I have found the same path as Krissy Anders?

We may never know… but I like to think that, in the end, every version of me would have found her way back to the page.

G Is For… Gregarious Gusto!

Writer Zen Garden Posted on by

(Grab your Google; there are going to be some vocabulary challenges here.)

By JaeSage (Trauma and grief specialist by day, creative polymath by night)

If I were to write my autobiography, it would probably start something like this: Bubbling over with delight at having survived over seven decades of extreme weather, parental shenanigans that would nowadays be considered child abuse, a half-century (so far) marriage to a challenging personality, a severely crippling childhood auto accident, and the vagaries of extremist religion and politics, I realized survival was all due to my creatively gregarious way of living life with gusto.

I wholly believe nature had a hand in this; however, it was nurture—mainly through keen observation and precocious participation in living—that moved me through what life was throwing at me.

“Overly positivistic!” you may say.

“Healthily optimistic,” I say. After all, according to Martin Seligman, Michael Scheier, and Charles Carver, “Optimism is often dismissed as just ‘thinking happy thoughts,’ but it is more accurately described as a cognitive framework for interpreting the world. At its core, it is the persistent expectation that favorable outcomes are likely to occur and the belief that setbacks are temporary, specific, and manageable.”

The glass is not half full of water, but entirely full! After all, air is as elemental as water. When life hands you a quandary, make lavender lemonade.

In his book Peace Is Every Breath, Thich Nhat Hanh said that we can wake up and declare to ourselves that we have “twenty-four brand-new hours” to live our life afresh each day.

Future Focus

So much to look forward to! So much to dread, too! The optimistic creator notices that however horrendous a day may be, there is always something to actively engage in or to be thankful for. Did you get out of bed today? Did you observe someone’s smile? Did that coffee or tea smell fragrant? Was it a beautiful day to take a walk and maybe make some sketches? Was it a lousy weather day that was perfect for staying in and writing in your journal, or composing a poem or a story?

Action Plan

How can you bring a little creative, gregarious gusto into your life? Here are but a few suggestions:

  1. Help someone learn to read or draw.
  2. Notice something truly awesome. (I just looked up from writing this and saw buds popping out on a bare little tree.) Find something awe-inspiring just for the sake of feeling awe.
  3. Find an art buddy. Locate someone to whom you can send photos of your art or samples of your writing for mutual support.

There you have it. You may find that you are creating more often than you think when you start sharing, noticing, and doing. Remember, though, that being without productivity can be as creative as doing. Enjoy!

 

F Is For… Friction!

Writer Zen Garden Posted on by

Contributed by Annette Grantham.

We like to think creative blocks come from a lack of ideas. If only we had a better concept, a clearer outline, a spark of inspiration, then everything would fall into place.

But most of the time, the problem is not ideas. It is friction.

Friction is anything that makes it harder to begin or continue your work. It shows up in quiet, ordinary ways. A cluttered workspace. Notes scattered across too many notebooks. A project that feels too big to hold in your head. The sense that you should know what comes next but do not.

It can also be emotional. Doubt. Perfectionism. The low hum of resistance that says this is going to be hard, so maybe not today.

Friction is sneaky because it rarely announces itself. It disguises itself as procrastination, distraction, or lack of motivation. But when you look closer, you often find something very practical underneath it.

Too many steps between you and the page.
Too many decisions before you can begin.
Too much pressure to get it right.

When friction builds up, even a project you love can start to feel heavy.

The good news is that friction can be reduced.

You do not need to fix your entire process. You only need to make it easier to take the next step.

Clear one small space to work.
Gather your notes into one place.
Lower the bar for what counts as progress.
Open the document and write a single sentence.

Sometimes the most powerful shift is giving yourself permission to begin badly. A rough start has less friction than a perfect one.

Over time, you may notice something interesting. When the path is clear, your creative energy shows up more readily. Not because you forced it, but because you removed what was in its way.

Creativity does not always need more fuel. Often, it needs less resistance.

If you are feeling stuck, instead of asking what you should create, try asking a different question.

What is making this harder than it needs to be?

Start there.

Bio: Annette Grantham writes evocative magical realism rooted in memory, heritage, and the unseen magic that binds past to present. She is the author of The Frontier Witches, where ordinary women carry extraordinary power in the Wild West. She lives in the Pacific Northwest, where mist, forest, and story intertwine. Visit her online, at https://www.annettegrantham.com/.