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You Love to Write … So Why Aren’t You Writing?
As a human in the modern world, it’s difficult to write. To muffle the outside world — and the world inside your phone, your computer, your head — and just write.
From social media to email and the internet, today’s technology is designed to grab our attention — and keep it. And if you do overcome those external distractions and sit down to write, you face sneaky internal obstacles, as well. The most insidious? The inner critic.
Humans are, by nature, constantly assessing situations, imagining outcomes, and making decisions — it’s part of survival. But it also means we automatically assess all of our actions, including our writing. That little voice is called our inner critic, and it not only hinders progress, it can also stop us from ever getting started.
In other words: Your inner critic is killing your word count and your creativity.
Enter: freewriting.
Steven Mintz, a professor of history at the University of Texas at Austin, posits that “writing is thinking.” Stephen King said that we should write with the door closed, so no one can see, and edit with the door open. Ernest Hemingway abbreviated that advice even further to suggest that we “write drunk and edit sober.”
These are all creative ways of discussing freewriting, or the method of separating the drafting from the editing process. "Freewriting" is a term popularized in 1973 by English Professor Peter Elbow, though coined by a writer named Ken Macrorie. Elbow described freewriting as “writing something and putting it in a bottle in the sea.”
In this type of writing process, the first stage (drafting) has one goal only: to get words on the page. This means turning off the critical portions of your brain and just letting the words spill onto the page, without getting hung up on fixing them right then and there. Revision comes later in this writing process, when drafting is complete.
Why? Well, drafting and editing are two different activities requiring different things from your brain. The division of these tasks reduces anxiety from your inner critic during the drafting phase and frees up your creativity so that thoughts can flow organically. Many people haven’t written this way since childhood!
What if you treated every writing session this way? Even if you have a project due to an editor or professor or boss. Even if you're worried it won't be good enough. Make that first draft for your eyes only and see what happens.
There's a reason this method can be found in writing programs around the world. Learn why freewriting is taught to students in "Freewriting: A Teacher's Perspective" by writing instructor Bryan Young.
So what exactly does science and psychology have to say about freewriting? Many experts have written about the underlying mechanisms that make this method effective:
Learn more about the science behind freewriting.
While Freewrite devices facilitate freewriting and writing flow by removing all distractions from your writing device, there are several key habits you can practice while writing to optimize your forward-drafting experience.
Practice these three core freewriting rules during your next writing session to see how this method can streamline your drafting process and increase your productivity.
1. Resolve external distractions.
We’ve done the hard work for you by creating Freewrite and eliminating all the pesky distractions of the internet and modern technology. Now, all you have to do is turn off the TV and put your phone in a different room. Block out your writing time on a calendar so that loved ones know when exactly you will be unavailable.
2. Don't stop to Google.
Research is important across many writing industries and genres. However, it has the potential to become one of the worst forms of procrastination. It's extra tricky because it convinces you that you're actually being productive. If it's eating into your writing time, however, it's not productive. So how do you prevent this?
If you're a plotter, complete the majority of your research prior to drafting. Some Freewriters start with an outline, or plot points jotted on sticky notes. If you're a pantser, you can reserve research for later, once you know what you need to know.
While drafting, if you reach a point requiring a fact-check or additional information, simply leave a prompt for yourself right there within the text and proceed with drafting.
3. Tell your inner critic you're writing a messy first draft and turn off your inner spellcheck.
We all have an inner voice that guides our actions. When you write (or create anything) that inner voice turns into a critic. This inner critic is the most common reason authors experience debilitating doubt or anxiety and never finish a draft. It is critical to your writing success that you silence that inner critic.
This won't be easy, but it can be done, with practice. Start by avoiding the urge to critique or edit your work as you go. Instead, concentrate on getting your thoughts down without judgment. And resist backtracking to fix typos.
Did that last sentence sound stupid? Who cares?! Anything goes in a messy first draft. You’ll refine and revise later! Trust your instincts and write without overanalyzing each sentence. Aim for a state of flow where your typing pace matches the natural rhythm of your thoughts.
To become a true freewriting pro, check out our exhaustive list of rules that the most prolific Freewriters use to draft forward — and fast. Read "Freewrite's 14 Rules for Drafting Forward."
To help all writers unlock their creativity and find writing flow in this modern world of distraction, we’ve created the ultimate guide to freewriting — and we’re giving it away absolutely FREE.
Download Set Your Story Free: The Writer's Guide to Freewrite.
Here are some of our favorite additional resources about forward momentum in drafting and how to cultivate this writing practice within your own creative process.
Learn from Editor & Author Susan DeFreitas what the most dangerous myth about writing is — yes, it involves editing a piece to death — and how you can overcome it.
New York Times and USA Today Best-Selling Author Ashley Poston shares her top tips for getting a first draft done fast.
The team over at DIY MFA chat about the difference between writing and editing, and why they should be separate.
Learn the basics of the neuropsychology behind writer’s block and how you can work through it.
Follow these 10 steps to break the cycle of scrolling and re-focus your attention on life.
Unleashing the Power of Deep Work: Cal Newport’s Deep Work: Rules for Focused Success in a Distracted World gives a great intro to why focus is so difficult in today’s world and what we can do to change that.
Have technical questions about using Freewrite? Visit our support page for links to Quick Start Guides, our online Knowledge Base, and more.
Recently, over 10,000 writers, writing instructors, and publishers from across the U.S. gathered at the annual conference for the Association of Writers & Writing Programs.
We asked them to answer a few questions about creativity and living a writing life. Here's what they had to say...
I’ve spent years writing while secretly fearing that a single misplaced word would expose me — not just as a bad writer, but as a fraud.
My background is originally in photography, and I see it there, too. A photographer I know recently posted a before-and-after comparison of their editing from 2018 versus now, asking if we also saw changes in our own work over the years.
Naturally, we should. If our work is the same, years apart, have we really grown as artists?
So why is that the growing, the process of it, the daily grind of it, is so painful?
So why is that the growing, the process of it, the daily grind of it, is so painful?
Hitting “publish” on an essay or a blog always stirs up insecurity — the overthinking, the over-editing. The fear that someone will call me out for not being a real writer.
I initially hesitated to make writing part of my freelance work. My background is in photography and design. Writing was something I gravitated toward, but I had no degree to validate it. No official stamp of approval.
Like many writers, I started with zero confidence in my voice — agonizing over edits, drowning in research, second-guessing every word.
I even created a shield for myself: ghostwriting.
I even created a shield for myself: ghostwriting.
If my words weren’t my own, they couldn’t be wrong. Ghostwriting meant safety — no risk, no vulnerability, just words without ownership.
I still remember the feeling of scrolling to the bottom of an article I had written and seeing someone else’s name, their face beside words that had once been mine. It felt uncanny — like recognizing your handwriting but not remembering when or why you wrote those words. I knew it was mine, but it didn't feel like it belonged to me anymore.
The truth is, I always wanted to write. As a kid, I imagined it. Yet, I found myself handing over my work, letting someone else own it.
I told myself it didn’t matter. It was work. Getting paid to write should be enough.
But here’s the thing: I wasn’t just playing it safe — I was slowly erasing myself. Word by word. Edit by edit. And finally, in the by-line.
I wasn’t just playing it safe — I was slowly erasing myself. Word by word. Edit by edit. And finally, in the by-line.
This was true when I was writing under my own name, too. The more I worried about getting it right, the less I sounded like me.
I worried. I worried about how long an essay was (“people will be bored”), finding endless examples as proof of my research (“no way my own opinion is valid on its own”), the title I gave a piece (“it has to be a hook”), or editing out personal touches (“better to be safe than be seen”).
I built a guardrail around my writing, adjusting, tweaking, over-correcting. Advice meant to help only locked me in. It created a sentence rewritten to sound smarter, an opinion softened to sound safer, a paragraph reshaped to sound acceptable.
I built a guardrail around my writing, adjusting, tweaking, over-correcting.
But playing it safe makes the work dull. Writing loses its edge.
It took deliberate effort to break this habit. I’m not perfect, but here’s what I know after a year of intentionally letting my writing sound like me:
My work is clearer. It moves with my own rhythm. It’s less shaped by external influence, by fear, by the constant need to smooth it into something more polished, more likable.
But playing it safe makes the work dull. Writing loses its edge.
The drive for acceptance is a slippery slope — one we don’t always realize we’re sliding down. It’s present in the small choices that pull us away from artistic integrity: checking how others did it first, tweaking our work to fit a mold, hesitating before saying what we actually mean.
And let’s be honest — this isn’t just about writing. It bleeds into everything.
It’s there when we stay silent in the face of wrongdoing, when we hold back our true way of being, when we choose work that feels “respectable,” whatever that means. It’s in every “yes” we say when we really want to say “no.”
If your self-expression is rooted in a need for acceptance, are you creating for yourself — or for others? Does your work help you explore your thoughts, your life? Does it add depth, energy, and meaning?
My work is clearer. It moves with my own rhythm. It’s less shaped by external influence, by fear, by the constant need to smooth it into something more polished, more likable.
I get it. We’re social creatures. Isolation isn’t the answer. Ignoring societal norms won’t make us better writers. Often, the most meaningful work is born from responding to or resisting those norms.
But knowing yourself well enough to recognize when acceptance is shaping your work brings clarity.
Am I doing this to be part of a community, to build connections, to learn and grow?
Or am I doing this to meet someone else’s expectations, dulling my voice just to fit in?
Here’s what I know as I look back at my writing: I’m grateful for the years spent learning, for the times I sought acceptance with curiosity. But I’m in a different phase now.
I know who I am, and those who connect with my work reflect that back at me — in the messages they send, in the conversations we share.
I know who I am, and those who connect with my work reflect that back at me — in the messages they send, in the conversations we share.
It’s our differences that drive growth. I want to nurture these connections, to be challenged by difference, to keep writing in a way that feels like me. The me who isn’t afraid to show what I think and care about.
So, I ask you, as I ask myself now:
If no one was watching, if no one could judge, what would you write?
If no one was watching, if no one could judge, what would you write?
A book deal without an agent? An agent offer after a book deal? Learn how Writer Bobby Miller took his publishing journey into his own hands.
