Investigating the writing process

Writers versus AI- an arms race leaves writers in the trenches

Is AI a writer’s friend or foe? Both and neither perhaps. Generative AI seems to be creating an increasingly stressful environment for writers of all kinds. Whether you’re a student grafting away at essays, a copywriter producing social media content, a professional blogger, journalist, or script writer, the spectre of AI looms in the shadows and may be threatening your livelihood one way or another.

First there was a widespread concern about ChatGPT stealing writer’s jobs. Now in 2024, the anxiety is that at the click of a button a variety of GPTs can generate articles, blog posts and social media posts that previously took a human being hours to research and draft. The reality is that these texts are not fit for purpose. The prose produced is often flat, dry, repetitive, and the source material inaccurate. Research indicates that entry level freelance writer and coding jobs have been impacted by AI, but the demand for writers with niche expertise and creative talent remains.

However, human writers and prompt engineers are being employed to improve these outputs by training AI in advanced reasoning and language processing techniques as I write. These types of task-based jobs are on the rise as AI developers seek to humanize outputs.

While many professional writers subscribe to GPTs for research purposes, few if any would use their outputs as content. More scholarly GPTs behave like targeted conversational search engines that are free of sponsored ad content and can help stimulate creative juices and get a writer’s ideas flowing. As yet, however, they can’t replace human fact checking capabilities or make the imaginative leaps and humorous inferences needed to hook readers and engage audiences.

But writers beware! Following the ever-increasing sophistication of generative GPTs we have a new menace to contend with. AI detector tools are now being deployed by clients to screen our work and ensure that anything we submit is 100% human.

I’ve heard various explanations for this. One is that Google doesn’t like AI content, and SEO rankings suffer when it’s detected. However, this only applies to very spammy content full of keyword stuffing chiefly designed to manipulate search rankings. Otherwise it’s not true. Another is that GPTs do not base their answers on reliable sources. OK. That can be checked, as every source found anywhere should be anyway.

Finally, and most importantly, AI generated content cannot be copyrighted. So, if you sell your writing to a client who purchases it in exchange for copyright, then those clients must ensure your work is free of AI generated text for legal reasons. Otherwise they can’t publish it safely.

Yet more and more clients are using detector tools that generate false positives. Using Grammarly to edit? Watch out- it’s AI. Copying and pasting between drafts or Word and Google Docs? Ill advised. Pasted text can trigger an alert. Using PerfectIt to proofread? Risky- it too is an AI tool. The problem is that these editing and proofreading tools can trigger AI detectors even when the content is 100% human.

There’s a plethora of articles by disgruntled students and writers who stand accused of using AI to produce their content. Research has demonstrated that detector tools are often inaccurate. Some tools have flagged up pre-AI written content as GPT generated, including the Bible and the US Constitution!

Today, writers not only have to submit content to a raft of grammar, spelling and plagiarism checkers, but also AI detectors, despite the companies who produce these tools admitting they’re deeply flawed.

I’ve been experimenting by submitting the same content to a variety of AI detector tools and getting vastly different results. Originality AI claims to be the most rigorous detector tool- admitting in its own blog that using Grammarly, or cutting and pasting between documents can flag up AI involvement. Rewritten paraphrased content derived from a chat with a GPT? Also, no good. All these activities can trigger this particular AI detection tool, as might unusual formats such as listicles, bullet points, and short, clipped sentences. Don’t summarise article sections to enhance readability either. The repetition might trigger a concern.

Fear not though dear writers, there is a solution. Welcome to the humanizer! Yes, when you subscribe to an AI detection tool that suspects you’re a robot you will be swiftly invited to add on the humanizer (which IS a robot that claims to makes you sound less robotic) for an extra fee. You can only trial humanizers for free on about 300 words. My recent trial introduced grammar errors, redundancy, slang, and other poor word choices. The idea seems to be that mediocre writing can trick the detectors as it’s more likely to be human. If you write smooth, consistent, error free text then you’re more likely to get flagged as a bot. Check out this article in the Guardian, also linked above, where a lecturer claims his brilliant student was flagged with a false positive for precisely that.

Who benefits from this fiasco? Writers? No. Editors? Maybe. Tech firms? Definitely. Let me explain.

Writers are increasingly having to prove they are human to AI robots deployed by editors who screen their work. While this is important, especially as AI text cannot be copyrighted, it also risks promoting an adversarial relationship between staff on the same team and slowing down the production process. In large content agencies in particular, editors often earn hourly rates, so, they’re more likely to intervene and demand more from writers. If a writer is very good, editors have less to do and earn less. In these situations, the editor is incentivized to find fault as they get paid more for each round of revisions. In other scenarios an editor is paid per article or word count and so the less intervention the better off they are.

I was told recently ‘not to worry- our editors know how to tweak content to avoid detection’ when I had written the content from scratch. However, I’d been asked to produce a listicle article, which has a high risk for flagging AI involvement as that is ChatGPT’s preferred format. Sure enough, over 50% of the content got flagged as possibly created by AI. The suggestions made by 2 editors were cringeworthy to read. Wordy, redundant phrasing and flowery language was introduced that sacrificed clarity to claim humanity. Perhaps they’d used a humanizer, to be fair.

Also, some neurodivergent writers have complained that their communication style- direct, detailed, meticulously grammatical and factual- is being penalised. Third person, neutral, and formal writing also falls under suspicion and is more likely used by non-native English speakers– double DEI alert. Yet sometimes this is exactly what a brief demands, and a client wants.

So, in 2024, a well-equipped writer’s armoury should include a word processing app, an external grammar checker and editor app, a plagiarism checker, an AI detector and a humanizer. Each tool is available on subscription for a modest monthly fee.

As Max Loel writes for The National Writers’ Union:

“Originality claims its tool is 97.5% accurate, but this figure does not stand up to real-world scrutiny. They tell our clients that AI-flagged content will get penalized in search results, which Google outright refuted. Plus, there is dishonesty in creating a problem out of thin air and turning around to sell the solution to those most impacted.”

Who benefits? I think the answer’s clear.

The Peril of Unpaid Trials

We’ve all been there. You apply for a contractor role as a content developer with a new client and they request an unpaid trial. For most established freelancers, the collaboration ends there. Requests for unpaid work are a big red flag.

Recently, I applied for a contract with a company I admired and was interviewed twice, then I broke my own rule, and spent my weekend working on a resource that wasn’t compensated. I did it to convey my enthusiasm for the company’s mission.

The problem with unpaid trials is that you are effectively giving up time and money to a new client who may not offer you any work. On top of that, compensation for any future work was being offered as an hourly rate. The problem with hourly rates for content development contracts is that the client typically decides the time it’ll take you to produce the content. The problem with both is an implied devaluation of your professionalism and trustworthiness. Nevertheless, I went ahead in this case in good faith because I shared the company’s values and supported their mission.

After delivering the resource, I was told their response was positive and I was now requested to attend a final interview. I attended the interview where the role was explained in more detail. I was questioned about my experience and qualifications a third time and about my support for the company’s values. I grew increasingly uneasy after the final interview. This was taking a lot of time out of my life for such a minor role. I had some questions.

Firstly, would they be using my intellectual property without paying a fee and signing an IP agreement? I did not agree to that, believing that providing the resource would be the final stage of the contracting process, as it always has been with other clients. However, my existing clients only ever requested a paid trial which conveys respect for my time and value. It sets a solid foundation of trust which is the basis of a mutually beneficial collaboration.

Secondly how did they propose to determine how long a project would take? My existing clients pay me per product- whether it’s an article, an online learning resource, or an editing project. It’s a much better way of working freelance, as I get to decide how long something will take and if it’s worth my time based on the product fee.

I once accepted an hourly rate several years ago when starting out as a freelancer. I was provided with a brief and told it should take a day – 7 hours work. It took between 11 and 12 hours of me working at a rapid pace. It was a recipe for burnout. I told the client how long it was actually taking and they assured me I’d speed up. I was already working at my maximum speed. I quit on day three due to additional scope creep- the client kept adding little bits of work- such as ‘then just write a social media post with a curated image’, ‘then just add these links’. It was unsustainable. It meant I was being paid a much lower hourly rate than originally agreed.

The potential client in this case explained that the organizational lead on the project I was working on would decide how long it should take, then brief me accordingly. Alarm bells began ringing and I was reminded of my previous promise to myself never to accept hourly rates again unless I can quote the time it will take. It can so easily lead to conflict otherwise.

During my final interview I was assessed again to see if I brought into the company’s mission and strategy. While I can understand that’s important when recruiting an employee, it seems like an overreach when hiring a very part-time freelancer. As it happened, I did buy into the company’s mission which was demonstrated by providing a unpaid trial. Usually requests for unpaid trials end my involvement there and then. In this case, I made an exception. Yet it felt like despite my act of good faith, I was expected to provide still more evidence of commitment.

Unpaid trials and hourly rates require freelancers to absorb all the risk entailed in working with a new client. The power relationship is unbalanced from the start. I felt like my trustworthiness and professionalism were in question despite my established profile.

So, I did some research in the freelance content development community and found that the request for an unpaid trial often ends badly. Some freelancers reported that despite not landing the role, their work was used by the client with minor changes- with no IP agreement signed or fee paid.

Potentially, an organization can leave the gig unfilled and collect a whole raft of free resources until much of their project work is complete- for free. That is what is called a rogue client by experienced freelancers. I couldn’t find any reputable freelancer who would offer an unpaid trial- except to demonstrate that they supported the company’s mission wholeheartedly. That is what I did.

The moral of the story is never accept an unpaid trial. Never agree to hourly rates when developing a product unless you quote to the client how long it will take. Hourly rates that are applied to human services like tutoring, coaching or training are another matter. The time boundary there is easy to adhere to. However, when applied to research, writing and editing, a client’s imposition of their expected time limits can lead to scope creep, push the actual hourly rate down, and the client has all the power.

Let me know in the comments if you have a similar story or if this ever worked out well for you. I ended up withdrawing my application and asserting ownership of my intellectual property. The implied lack of trust in my professionalism conveyed a potentially rocky relationship ripe for conflict. Sometimes we have to draw a boundary, reflect on previous experiences, and say no.

Rejection Part 4- When Writers Need To Say No

My writing for this blog has slowed since the early days due to a boom in my business both as a writer and writing coach. Things don’t appear to be slowing down.

But as it’s a wet Tuesday here in Scotland I’ve decided it’s time to update the blog by writing about one of my favourite topics- boundaries and the art of saying no. I recently wrote a blog article for PositivePsychology.com on healthy boundaries in various kinds of relationships, but here I want to focus on boundaries for working writers. Why? Well, you could say that I have learned the hard way how essential professional boundaries are when contracting with clients online.

Identifying bad freelance writing clients

The fabulous Writer Beware blog details a lot of scams in what they call the shadow side of the publishing industry. However, a huge number of professional writers serve clients outside the publishing industry, by producing content for blogs, websites, e-books, newsletters, press releases and more.

Many writers start out by joining agencies known as ‘content mills’. These typically pay per job for ghostwriting short-form and long-form content, such as social media posts, email copy and blog posts. Some are shady operations requesting writers produce ‘model answers’ for their clients, or in plain English, writing students’ college and university assignments.

There are other jobbing writers’ membership websites that ask for a fee to sign up and peruse ‘curated freelancing opportunities’. I’ve been approached by a few assuring me I’m ‘qualified to join’ who then offer nothing more than a list of job openings freely available elsewhere, and a few ‘how to’ blog articles. IAPWE is one of the newer websites posing as a professional association as described in this Reedsy article. Contena is another one that has attracted poor reviews.

Avoiding scope creep

However, there are other poor contracting practices to be aware of, such as

Asking for a writer’s rate ‘per article’ without stipulated word counts, but rather ‘word ranges’ such as 1,500 to 3,000 words per article.
Hiring writers with contracts that do not stipulate the number of revisions included, turnaround times for revisions, or fees for revisions.

This lack of clarity can lead to the dreaded scope creep, when work increasingly encroaches on your free time, piles on stress, and can eventually lead to exhaustion and burnout.

A tough lesson from personal experience

I was hired as a freelance editor back in June to work on a certain number of articles per day, which I was assured would take a maximum of 7 hours. I agreed to a day rate for the job. However, I found that editing four blog articles, writing SEO content snippets, image curation, image optimization, and affiliate linking would take between 10 and 11 hours a day, as long as I was prepared to acquire repetitive strain injury on my mouse hand. When the client offered to reduce the work to a mere 9 hours a day on screen for a 7-hour day rate, I had to set some professional boundaries and walk.

I learned a tough lesson. Instead of trusting my B2B clients have the professional integrity required to contract and retain a freelancer, I now insist on a paid test article to time audit all ‘per article’ writing and editing tasks. Then, and only then, do I offer a quote and/or accept the rate offered. I’ve found this weeds out the chancers from the genuine clients at the first hurdle. If a client isn’t prepared to send me a paid trial article so I can time audit the job, they are likely trying to get something for nothing. In psychological terms, they are trying to override professional boundaries, as well as standard contracting practices, and that bodes ill for any future working relationship.

The problem is that we writers love our craft so much that we often jump at the chance to work in areas we are truly passionate about. Especially when we’re starting out, it’s easy to slip up and neglect to negotiate a client contract that protects our professional interests.

While the majority of my regular B2B clients have been great to work with, there’s been a handful who pushed professional boundaries in an attempt to exploit my love of writing. I have had to learn to say a firm but polite no to these clients, and establish some professional boundaries about when to proceed or withdraw from an offer.

The art of saying no

In today’s economic climate, taking on work that neglects our professional boundaries is tempting to plug short-term cash flow problems, but can lead to bigger problems maintaining productivity in the long term. However, writing for clients who continually push our professional boundaries has a corrosive effect on our creativity, and physical and mental health.

Paradoxical as it may sound, saying no is a crucial skill for making progress both personally and professionally.

Take a look at this TED talk by Kenny Nguyen about how learning the art of saying no prepares you for the perfect time to say yes.

5 tips for finding great writing jobs

Now we’re clear about how to say no, here are some tips on how to say yes. The following have helped me identify genuine jobs based on creative collaborations and filter out the kind of opportunistic exploitation that can crash your career as a freelance writer.

Ensure you have agreed on a rate per word and not per article, if possible, unless the article has a specific word count attached.
Only agree per hour or day rates after you have conducted a thorough, paid, time audit of the work involved.
Ensure that the number of revisions and/ or edits is stipulated in your contract. If it’s more than one round, always negotiate a fee.
Ensure that turnaround times are agreed upon in advance with reasonable deadlines applied.
Charge for additional tasks such as image sourcing, image curation, image optimisation, internal/affiliate linking, and other SEO optimisation practices. These require additional skills and eat into your time.

For further tips on weeding out the baddies, take a look at this article by freelance writer Carol Tice. You can also check out this more generic article about setting boundaries as a freelancer on Forbes.

Also, for a fun and incisive video on setting boundaries as a freelance writer, watch this video by experienced copywriter Alex Cattoni on ‘How to Fire a Client.’

The core message here is that setting professional boundaries as a writer entails learning the skills needed to have difficult conversations, or as Cattoni says ‘getting comfortable with being uncomfortable’. This brings me back to the tools I use in my writing coaching practice.

How to set professional boundaries

If you’re a freelance writer who struggles with setting boundaries it will definitely impact on your creativity, productivity, and self-worth. Learning how to set boundaries with your clients requires a shift in mindset, as identified in Cattoni’s video, but also the acquisition of specific interpersonal skills. As a writing coach, I equip all kinds of writers with the skills they need to succeed and optimise their productivity. This includes setting professional boundaries.

Getting comfortable with being uncomfortable typically means learning how to manage the anxiety and fear that arises when we decide we need to change our behaviour to achieve cherished life goals. One of my articles on ACT for PositivePsychology.com contains several resources for managing anxiety that can useful when learning to set professional boundaries.

Another of my articles on Setting Healthy Boundaries has a section on setting boundaries at work which includes some useful resources. However, this video by work communication skills coach Tammy Dunnett is a great guide on how to set boundaries at work by getting comfortable with having difficult conversations.

I love Dunnett’s 3 pillars for setting boundaries at work. Make sure you remain

Clear
Calm
Consistent

But let’s face it, when our buttons are pushed uncomfortable and reactive emotions are aroused. When this happens, don’t hesitate to take a step back for as long as needed. This is perhaps easier in the remote working world where we can put all our devices on silent and walk away from the desk. Learning when to take a break to prevent tensions from escalating is crucial as Dunnett explains above.

To finish up, here’s a final reminder from writer Paul Coelho.

Let me know in the comments if you’ve any more tips about how to identify dodgy clients, or how to set boundaries as a freelance writer. Many of us only carve out a writing career after learning from bitter experience.

I hope this article helps you to navigate the often murky waters of online writing gigs and overcome the challenges involved.

Rejection Part 3: Rejection and Loss- the Writer’s Lot?

My last two posts on rejection have been months apart. There are three main reasons why: 1. I was busy writing for others. 2. I was re-writing and editing my 133,000-word semi-autobiographical novel based on my tumultuous years in India and Sri Lanka. 3. I had a series of bereavements that drained me of the inspiration to write anything new.

As the above image suggests (that I took on a recent walk on the beach in front of my home), I’ve been caught between a rock and hard place, but still appreciating the view. These experiences led me to explore the relationship between rejection and loss, and whether dealing with both is part of the writer’s lot in life.

Firstly, in order to build a platform as a writing coach, it’s been necessary to demonstrate my credibility online, rather than focus on crafting posts in what could otherwise remain an unseen internet backwater. However, this entailed shelving this blog for a while which was a type of loss, as I enjoy sharing my musings here with others and the feedback I receive by email.

Yet, this experience has been useful as I’ve been content writing for other blogs, podcasts, and social media accounts, coached a range of writers from diverse academic specialisms, and learned how to turn down badly paid writing gigs – often after my bids had been accepted and fees were yet to be agreed. We’ll return to these points later in this post. So, I’ve been living a writer’s life, and encountering the same issues that my coaching clients struggle with along the way.

Secondly, I took up the long overdue task of rewriting and editing my novel based upon the true story of my time in India and Sri Lanka. There will be a sequel- two are planned. However, taking on board my previous editor’s remarks and recent feedback from a prospective publisher required a big rethink and a new beginning for the book. They made excellent points and spoke to some concerns I also shared.

Taking this on board and beginning again meant I then had to edit the remaining text to accommodate this major change. So, once again, I became immersed in the memories of the wildest adventure of my life as I sifted through the story and ironed out the wrinkles in the plot. I can’t deny that this was emotionally draining work, especially in the context of current events in Sri Lanka and the conversations I’ve had with old friends there about what’s happening on the ground. The seeds were sown for the current crisis over a decade ago and were germinating in the background of my story during my time living on the island.

I then decided that rather than going straight back to a publisher, I’d try to get an agent. So, I had to research who was open to submissions, their interests, and submission requirements. This involved crafting an elevator pitch, a new blurb, and new synopsis. I’m now waiting patiently for a response to my proposal, inviting the possibility of rejection after all that hard work.

While I was preparing my submission, I decided to research strategies for coping with rejection both for readers of this blog, and for me should I need it (let’s face it, who doesn’t?). In the short video below, meditation teacher Todd Perelmuter encourages inviting as much rejection as possible, while learning to interpret rejection as valuable feedback rather than a personal injury. He reminds us that everybody who has become successful has experienced a mountain of rejection along the way, and that embracing rejection is the fastest way to achieving our goals. This sounds counterintuitive in our ego-driven culture, but give him a listen.

Next, after submitting my proposal to an agent, and while editing the remainder of my book, a series of bereavements occurred involving family and friends over the course of just a few weeks. I dropped work for a while and allowed myself some time to process these losses. I took up more intense meditation, walked a lot in nature, and spent time with friends. I reflected on the relationship between rejection and loss, and how rejection can involve the loss of hope. The loss of a loved one can feel like a rejection by life itself, even a loss of meaning or reason to go on, as our interpersonal reference points shift and dissolve.

I found myself drawn to rereading a memoir that is steeped in the experience of rejection and loss to help me gather the threads of these reflections together. Tamsin Calidas’ ‘I Am An Island’ is one of the most hauntingly poetic and moving books I’ve ever read. I say ‘read’, but that’s not strictly true, as when I bought it there were no hard copies available- it had sold out everywhere- I could only purchase the audiobook. There was no Kindle and no paperback published at the time.

So, while doing my household chores I listened again to the audiobook that is so elegantly narrated by the author. Her story describes her experience of rejection and multiple losses, her descent into the undertow of grief, and the loss of meaning that occurs when she confronts her isolation and lack of belonging. Calidas faced a crisis that resulted in surrender and initiation into union with the creative pulse of nature, embodied in the wild landscape of the Scottish island she has made her home.

Given my recent experiences, and my relocation to the Scottish coast during lockdown (not an island, however), I appreciated it all the more the second time around. I began researching her current whereabouts and found some mixed book reviews and a few podcast interviews. I tuned into a couple of YouTube videos to listen to her explain how she transitioned from surviving to thriving in the face of rejection, loss, isolation, and deep despair. My favourite is linked below.

My overwhelming response to hearing her describe the wider context she couldn’t include in the memoir, given the pressure of word counts and space, was a deep respect for her humility and courage. These qualities seem to be key to processing rejection and loss, as both invite us to reframe these painful experiences in the context of something much broader than the personal. Calidas describes an experience of heart opening, and a radical repositioning of her sense of belonging to the ever-present breath of life. She describes her emerging union with the expansions and contractions, ‘the systole and diastole’ of the cycles of nature. Her description of this process echoes the initiation rites common to many indigenous peoples that are required to become fully grown adults in such societies.

So, what has all got to do with the writer’s lot in life? As writers, we must be prepared to face a lot of rejection. A long stream of rejections can risk us experiencing a deepening sense of loss- of hope, of meaning, or purpose. The result of this can be the dreaded writer’s block. Then there’s the temptation to devalue our work by accepting badly paid gigs just to gain a sense of acceptance. However, juggling multiple poor-paying gigs is likely to lead to overwhelm and burnout. So, writer beware!

Despite my experience, skills, and qualifications, I’ve navigated complex contract bids only to be offered ‘extra exposure’ (unpaid work) as my compensation, or rates much less than the minimum wage that are impossible to live on. I’ve also had promised by-lines for blog articles omitted that were then published as ghostwritten pieces. I’ve discovered, to my cost, that there are some personal development ‘authors’ that I doubt have ever written anything that they claim to have written at all.

These rude awakenings to the realities many working writers face have been super valuable. I’m now fully acquainted with the pitfalls of freelance writing which improves the coaching I can offer my clients. Also, I have my name on the front page of Google following a year of hard work writing for reputable blogs managed by authentic people. I’ve learned how to spot the sketchy gigs and can now avoid them. I can help my clients do the same.

However, the most important thing I’ve learned during my first year as a writing coach is not to reject my values when pursuing my own writing goals. Instead, I’ve practised self-help, taken my own advice, and endured the rough and tumble to develop resilience for the long haul. I’m reminded of the old aphorism by the translator of ancient Indian wisdom texts Eknath Easwaran-

Working With Rejection- part two

Writer’s have to live with rejection as part and parcel of the profession. Learn how to survive and thrive as a writer despite the common obstacles you will encounter to reaching your goals.

This blog has been on hold for some months due to a period of extreme busyness. In the meantime, I’ve become a regular contributor to the Positive Psychology blog where I cover many of the psychological issues mentioned in this blog in more detail. It’s worth a good look for free practical resources on many topics related to problems with your productivity as a writer. I’ll be linking to them more in future posts.

Anyway, following the intense activity of the last few months, I’m glad to be back with renewed vigour just as spring arrives in the northern hemisphere.

In my last article, I covered how to deal with the inevitable rejections writers face as part and parcel of pursuing the profession. However, the bulk of the coaching work I do is with academic writers who are either writing a graduate thesis or dissertation, or are pursuing the publication of their research in peer-reviewed journals, so that is the focus of this follow-up.

Language and Style

There’s a range of established strategies academic writers can use to get a paper published or pass a graduate research degree. Yet, when I edited for various international academic editing agencies over the years, they perpetuated a lot of myths about academic writing with their clients, which I questioned. Needless to say, this didn’t always make me popular, but I have concrete evidence for my views that are detailed in the video below.

Myths included: academic writing should be impersonal, scientists never write using “I” or “we”, and complex abstract academic terms are preferable to more concrete terms because they seem more ‘objective’. “Not true” I protested. Don’t believe me?

There’s no need to reinvent the wheel. The video resource below offered by research writing expert Dr. Helen Sword of the University of Auckland is worth watching because it busts a lot of myths about academic writing.

I really advise watching it to see how bad some published academic writing is, and the simple steps that can be taken to make communicating research findings more effective. Grab a coffee and take the time to watch this in full.

Tip- if you want the transcript of this video, switch on the subtitles by clicking the ‘cc’ button then click on the three dots under the video on the right-hand side and click again on ‘open transcript’ in the drop-down menu. The transcript will open on the right-hand side, and you can copy and paste this into a document for ongoing reference.

Problems With Structure

Sometimes, the difficulties my coaching clients face are not with language and style at all, but with structuring longer pieces of writing like dissertations and theses. All those notes, all those ideas, just seem to swirl around in a confused psychic soup that keeps them awake at night and impedes any kind of sense-making process. Don’t worry we’ve all been there, I say to them.

OK, they say, somewhat relieved, but how do I get out of it and start writing?

Recently, I suggested a graduate student client take a look at the formula that is often used to organise research writing known as IMRaD. In short: Introduction. Methods, Results, and Discussion. In case you’re wondering, the conclusion is normally deemed part of the discussion.

Adherence to this basic template has helped so many of my previous graduate students put their dissertation or thesis together, section by section, in a logical order. It’s also the preferred template of many academic journals across multiple subject areas, from the humanities to social sciences and life sciences.

It isn’t a one size fits all formula but can act as a useful set of guidelines about what is required to demonstrate your research skills and communicate research findings effectively.

When my academic writing coaching clients are blocked, attempting to navigate their way through a long piece of writing often leads to overwhelm, and a kind of shut down typical of the fight, flight or freeze response. Then, IMRaD can come to the rescue by providing a map for organising research writing content.

Meanwhile using the snack writing technique or the dictate function on your word processor can get you writing and help overcome writer’s block. Forget about perfection altogether, just write. Crafting comes later, editing after that, and proofreading after that.

More tips are coming on the crafting and editing stages of academic writing very soon, free of grammatical terms and full of common sense.

Yeah, I know, sense doesn’t seem that common these days. Nonetheless, we can try. Especially those of us that keep writing.

Stay inspired if you can, and if inspiration leaves, just hammer those keys. See you soon, Jo.

Working With Rejection- part one.

Photo by Steve Johnson on Unsplash

My previous post on this blog discussed the role of self-compassion in the writer’s life, especially when we’re overwhelmed, blocked by inner or outer obstacles such as ill health, or experience rejection. Since then, I’ve started working as a writer for the Positive Psychology blog. My first piece has already been published on the application of ACT to group work. I have another piece written which will be published soon. Researching and writing these articles has delayed me posting here, but it’s returned me to a disciplined writer’s life. My main focus has been coaching and editing for the past few years. Now, I’m back in the saddle as a researcher and writer facing similar issues to my clients. Given my changed circumstances, I have decided to postpone the app and focus on bespoke one-to-one coaching for the time being. I’ll continue to post here about the common issues challenging my clients and my own writing process, but they’ll be snappier shares, rather than longer articles.

I promised to explore the issue of rejection in this post in more depth, so think of this as part one. I’m certainly familiar with the discomfort of having my writing rejected, and I have also rejected the writing of others when peer-reviewing for journals, reviewing book proposals for publishers, and editing for blogs. Neither side of this divide is pleasant, but it does give me a useful overview of the whole process of rejection. When you’re on the receiving end, rejection can often feel random and arbitrary.

I experienced a rejection of some fiction I’d written recently. The reviewer congratulated me on the quality of my writing but explained that ‘it didn’t grab me enough to want to take it further’. Fair enough, but what to do with that feedback? I took some time to process the rejection. I wasn’t upset. I didn’t take it personally. I even expected this response deep down. Why? I knew the beginning wasn’t sitting right with me and I just hadn’t summoned the patience to rewrite it. So, I decided to try again.

I’m now using some of the material I cut out of a previous version that I’m confident drops the reader straight into a gripping situation on the first page. It’s going to take a while to get it right, but I’m already much happier with it, and especially happy to include the writing I’d been advised to cut out by an editor of a previous version. It was well written he’d said, but not necessary. Now I see it was actually in the wrong place. I eventually stopped working with that particular editor as his advice was 100% market and sales driven, so we ran into a clash in values. Perhaps this clash in values is at the root of a lot of rejection, in one way or another. As writers, these clashes with publishers confront us with choice points. I’ve referred to choice points in earlier posts. Here’s a quick reminder.

The choice point facing me when my editor’s values clashed with mine was between reaching my goal of becoming a published writer in the near future, or choosing to adhere to the values driving my writing process. I took the latter option as integrity is the primary value driving my creativity. Different writers will have different values. For some, commercial success will be all important and there is nothing wrong with that. Nothing at all! However, in my case, compromising to reach a cherished goal was one thing, but ditching the values driving my writing process was not an option. I’ve discussed the difference between values and goals in previous posts, but here’s a quick reminder.

In short, if I’d prioritised my goals over my values, I would have been rejecting myself to try and capture a market. Out of self-compassion and a longer-term view I chose in favour of my values.

This type of rejection experience is specific to fiction writing. A publisher’s or agent’s acceptance and rejection of fiction is somewhat subjective, based on taste, and of course, markets. If you are suffering a growing pile of rejections, then be assured you’re in great company. One of my favourite writers, Kurt Vonnegut, received the following.

“Dear Mr. Vonnegut, We have been carrying out our usual summer house-cleaning of the manuscripts on our anxious bench and in the file, and among them I find the three papers which you have shown me as samples of your work. I am sincerely sorry that no one of them seems to us well adapted for our purpose. Both the account of the bombing of Dresden and your article, “What’s a Fair Price for Golden Eggs?” have drawn commendation although neither one is quite compelling enough for final acceptance. Our staff continues fully manned so I cannot hold out the hope of an editorial assignment, but I shall be glad to know that you have found a promising opening elsewhere. Faithfully yours, Edward Weeks.”

You can read more of the harshest rejection letters received by great writers here.

These days, one easy way to avoid rejection is self-publishing, but then marketing becomes the author’s responsibility. New writers with no platform will find marketing their work very difficult without a great of time and money to invest. I’ll discuss this option in another post. However, when academic writing is rejected, the considerations are very different. I’ve spent many years editing academic writing for publication. I’ve also participated in the peer-review process. My next post in this series on rejection will discuss this process in detail, and how academic writers can maximise their chances of publication. Until then, remember rejection provides you with an opportunity to revamp, re-evaluate, and improve your writing. It may even be setting you on course for something far better than you imagined.

Setting Intentions and the Art of Self-Compassion

This blog has been dormant while I’ve been recovering from an eye infection- a complication of my periodic computer vision syndrome (CVS) that causes dry eyes, irritation, light sensitivity, and tearing up. I treated the problem with Ayurvedic eyewashes, rest and taking a break from the screen. The swollen eye also prevented me from videoing the content for my new app, but now it’s cleared up filming begins next week. This got me thinking about the impact of our health on our best intentions, and how an increasingly screen-based working life may be impacting many of us.

I had to consciously choose to take a break from working, despite another internal commentary blaming me for my eye infection and failing to meet my goals on time. In an effort to appease my inner critic, I even tried the compromise measure of one-eyed research and writing, but after ten or fifteen minutes, realised this placed a terrible strain on my remaining vision. There was nothing else for it, I had to stop and take care of myself properly. I remembered Kristin Neff’s work on self-compassion and reminded myself that we all deserve care and concern during periods of suffering. I visited her site and plugged in my TV monitor to listen to her again.

I wasn’t struggling with an internal obstacle such as procrastination or avoidance, this was my human vulnerability to illness preventing me from meeting my best intentions to meet my goals. I needed some self-kindness.

I pulled her book off the shelf and re-read her exercise that suggests writing yourself a letter as if you were writing to a friend in need. I didn’t write myself a letter, but I did choose to be kind to myself, slow down, and spend more time off-screen than on-screen while my eye healed. I even postponed some client appointments explaining my situation and received messages of care and compassion from them too. This led to reset my intentions to include self-compassion during difficult times when unexpected events derail my best-laid plans. While my intentions always include remaining aware of subconscious experiential avoidance strategies, it’s also important to remember that unexpected suffering requires attention and psychological flexibility.

This very concrete experience of physical illness led me to reflect on the impact of other unexpected events on our writing lives. What other situations might crop up in the life of a writer that require a resetting of intentions and a period of self-compassion? A common experience for most of us is rejection from a publisher, blog, agent, or journal, or getting a poor grade for a written assignment, which may or may not be accompanied by criticism and discouraging remarks.

Unfortunately, many decisions made in the publishing industry are notoriously subjective and even nepotistic. There’s also a lot of competition and bad writing out there. Getting attention is hard. Many choose self-publishing as an antidote to ‘the old boys’ network’ syndrome that haunts many major agencies and publishing houses. Others sign up for writing courses, join writers’ groups, get a writing coach, or even give up in the face of repeated rejection. The fact is that rejection is part of every writer’s life, and rejection takes its toll on us psychologically. An article in The Cut entitled ‘Rejection Is An Enormous Part of a Writer’s Life’ offers some tips on handling rejection by seven established writers who have accepted it as part of their working life. Samantha Irby writes

“Most people don’t tell you why they don’t want your thing. They just say, “Oh, thanks, but no thanks.” I find it soothing to think about how much of this is out of my control. The only thing that I can be sure of is what I’ve made. I wrote this thing; it made me laugh; I’m happy with it. Why they didn’t buy it, I’ll never know.”

The keyword for me here is ‘control’. So many of the factors involved in decisions to publish are not in a writer’s control. Meanwhile, Akwaeke Emezi recounts how rejections that hurt at the time have sometimes been followed by other opportunities offering something better.

“… one of the things I’ve learned is that, a lot of the time, rejections are like doors that close because there’s a path somewhere else that I’m meant to be on. I don’t really feel bad about rejections anymore because I’m like, Okay, that’s cool. I’m not supposed to go there. I can’t wait to find out where I am supposed to go, because that’s going to be awesome in a way that I didn’t even imagine.”

This attitude embraces the acceptance that is key to cultivating resilience. One strategy for managing disappointment is resetting your intentions in line with your values. When you meet a roadblock in one direction, try again using another route. Meanwhile, Alexander Chee takes a deeply pragmatic approach.

“Rejection is something that, in some ways, you have to work with as much as you work with language as a writer. It’s the other medium of writing, which is to say: Learning to work with rejection, learning how rejection can propel you forward, whether you’re deciding to get better or you’re deciding to move on — you just can’t let it be an obstacle.”

I find this the most useful suggestion given my commitment to continuous creative development in face of ongoing challenges, especially when coaching other writers. Language may be the medium that lights our path ahead, while rejection is the shadow that helps us hone and define it. One requires the other, like yin and yang, or as Thich Nhat Hahn put it ‘no mud, no lotus’. Every edit is a form of rejection, and yet editorial revisions are always necessary to refine our writing, blossom and grow. Rhonda Douglas recommends regular doses of self-compassion as essential to our craft.

“Can you see how this can help us as writers to weather the incredible amount of rejection that most of us are naturally going to experience in our artistic lives, no matter how hard we work or how talented we are? Rejection is just a fact of the writing life, and self-compassion can help us keep moving forward in the face of it.”

As writers, perhaps the key to working with rejection is cultivating the capacity to separate our writing from our sense of personal identity through acceptance combined with cognitive defusion. Of course, self-compassion when we feel the twinge of disappointment is always a good move, while judging ourselves as a failure or giving up may be rooted in a misunderstanding of the reality of the writer’s life. What do you think? Let me know in the comment section below. I will also explore this more in my next blog post. Meanwhile…keep writing!

Gratitude – an antidote to the inner critic

I woke up early enough to catch the sunrise from my desk on Wednesday and captured it in the image above. While I am developing the content for my Flow Writer app I’m also editing my novel to smooth out bumpy passages and enhance characterization. Getting up early seems to enhance my productivity and the sight that beheld me as the sun rose over the Forth filled me with gratitude for that moment. Looking out to sea often evokes a sense of awe and a loss of preoccupation with ‘me’. It quietens the mind and soothes any agitated emotions or sense of urgency that can undermine creativity and productivity. That’s why I chose this apartment and why I put my desk in the window. For the rest of the day, I was unusually focused and productive, so much so that I began to reflect on the ability of gratitude to enhance creativity and concentration.

Coincidentally, today an Atlantic article dropped into my inbox on a recent study of the experience of gratitude during the pandemic. The study found that those who practised gratitude suffered less anxiety and low mood during these uncertain times. Practising gratitude entails taking time to notice and focus upon the positive aspects of life that we should be thankful for. Most often these are simple pleasures, like watching the sunrise, enjoying a good meal, playing with the kids, appreciating your home after you’ve cleaned it (something that frequently happens when I have a lot of editing to do- one of my classic avoidance strategies), enjoying the smell of freshy laundered sheets, or a relaxing bubble bath. Simplicity seems key to experiencing gratitude. Appreciation requires a focus on the present moment in all its richness.

Due to the chaos and unpredictability we have all experienced during the past eighteen months, practising gratitude may be more necessary than ever, but not in a smug ‘I’m alright, thanks’ kind of way. We don’t need to ignore the suffering in our lives or the world around us. Rather, we can practice gratitude consciously as a method for alleviating suffering out of self-compassion. Taking the time to appreciate the little things has proven mental health benefits. It doesn’t mean we ignore the complexities and difficulties of life, but rather for a few minutes each day, we choose to focus on appreciating our positive experiences. This shift in attention away from the negative towards the positive enhances creativity and innovation. In his book, Consolations, the poet and author David Whyte reminds us that:

“Being unappreciative might mean we are simply not paying attention” (p.53).

I experienced my sense of gratitude watching the sunrise like a cleansing of the numerous little wounds that my inner critic often begins to inflict upon me before I sit down at my desk, especially when editing my own work. Reviewing and editing need not be a ruthless process, it can be a playful crafting that relishes and appreciates the texture of words, their harmonics, tonality, and imagery. It also occurred to me that I should be grateful for the time to tend to my creative writing in this way, rather than working at a job I dislike just to survive as I have done before, possibly will do again, and many others do every day. However, it seems that gratitude also enhances productivity as the blog Creativity at Work states:

“Gratitude is the antidote to anxiety and fear, allowing feelings of grace, wellbeing, and optimism to flow. Scientific studies have proven there is a link between gratitude and creative problem solving. When we experience positive emotions, we enhance our ability to solve problems and come up with more ideas for action.”

As I got down to editing once the sun was up, my concentration and focus seemed sharper. I was noticing things I had missed in my previous round of editing. I was less distracted and dropping into a state of absorption and flow. So, from today I have decided to begin the day with a small five-minute gratitude practice at my desk. It may be noting three things I am thankful for that morning, or one of the practices recommended by HeartMath. Today, I took three ‘appreciation breaks’. I’ve felt more energised, connected and less frayed around the edges as a result.

“An effective way to improve mental, emotional, physical and spiritual well-being is to invoke and sustain sincere appreciation. The greater your capacity for sincere appreciation, the deeper the connection to your heart, where intuition and unlimited inspiration and possibilities reside.” HeartMath

If you’re struggling with your inner critic while writing or editing try switching your focus to appreciation and gratitude to dissolve anxiety and smooth the frayed edges of your mind. Practising gratitude enhances creativity and helps establish focused flow. It’s an act of self-compassion and you’re worth it!

Comparison is the enemy of flow

During one of my coaching sessions this week we homed in once more on the problem of overwhelm and how it can be caused by comparison. Often, before any kind of writing project begins a period of research is required. When I’m coaching academic writers, they often begin writing by researching the work of their peers in the field, especially by focusing on keywords and terms unique to their own research. The result can be the discovery of an overwhelming amount of research papers that may have implications for their own work, which they then feed a compulsion to read to stay abreast of current developments. The result can be writer’s block, typically characterised by a sense of excruciating overwhelm, freezing, and feelings of not being good enough to write for publication as someone else ‘probably got there first’. One of my clients discovered that somebody else had once written about a term she believed one of her research subjects had coined during an interview, and asked if it was permissible to use this same term in her paper, or if it would be seen as plagiarism?

My response was ‘reference it’, note the source, and continue. However, the discovery of the previous investigation of a similar phenomenon risked overwhelming my client. Suddenly, she wondered if she would soon discover a well of information that would take months to process. We discussed whether any ideas were truly unique, as new ideas always build on previous research and tend to be eclipsed by emerging ideas later. This describes the evolution of the investigative process that drives all types of research. The answer we agreed upon was clearly ‘no’.

Often, as the writer and literary critic Raymond Williams once explained, new ideas tend to emerge spontaneously in geographically diverse locations in response to a given zeitgeist that characterises a particular period in history. Each interlocutor may well express an emergent idea in complete ignorance of others expressing something similar or the same elsewhere. Emergent ideas arise through a complex, dynamic and intersubjective cultural process that germinates the seed of the new in response to the dominant culture and the residues of tradition. Therefore, almost no ideas are unique due to their emergence from a historical and cultural process. Following this discussion, we returned to the issue of writing in the flow state, and how comparison and structural framing might be better applied after the raw content had been written in a state of flow.

Dropping into our flow state may also be disrupted by the overreach of digital communication and culture. After a discussion of my previous post, exploring awe-walking as a method for shaking off the energetic stagnation that can settle in at the writing desk, my client began to dig deeper. To access flow, it may be necessary to disconnect from the digital world for a while. For example, as I’m writing this, I see an email has arrived. I am in my flow and so I decide not to open it but am aware of the urge to open it disrupting my inner writing process. This overreach of digital communication posting notifications inside the very tools I use to create is disturbing indeed, so setting boundaries to minimise interference is required.

All too often I have followed up some notification, either an email or social media post and an hour later find myself overwhelmed with information; either of no purpose or indicating another line of enquiry that I could pursue. Also, other people’s reports on their progress with their projects surreptitiously invite me to compare myself with them and see myself as lacking. However, most people carefully curate their social media profiles. Each time we log into social media, we are invited into a matrix of online personas apparently untroubled by the everyday hassles and complexities of life. This social network of self-policed identities aims to persuade or celebrate rather than present any kind of truth, yet the act of persuasion involves a subtle form of comparison and plays on our desire to improve. Too much comparison can be paralyzing because there are always people who are doing better, know more than you, have achieved more than you.

Therefore, I asked my client to stop conducting research, or indulging in comparison, and instead focus on her snack writing exercises from the heart, free of referencing and editing. The result was a more poetic, nuanced, and original writing style that was able to express her previous research findings in the context of her new work. She explained to me that disconnecting from the internet and just writing a paragraph at a time had enabled her to write in a more embodied way that ‘flowed’. I suggested that setting a boundary around the overreach of digital communication had helped prevent her from indulging in comparison.

As the educationalist and philosopher, Krishnamurti said

…you are educated to compare…your brain has been conditioned, educated, trained to compare – right? … psychologically …We are trained, educated, programmed to repeat. […]That is how your brain has become mechanical, routine; it is repeating, saying the same thing over and over again: ‘I can’t do it, I must do it, it is too difficult for me, I don’t understand, tell me all about it.
Isn’t comparison a form of violence?

All comparison is based on competition, effort, and struggle. This is the very opposite of dropping into your flow state which feels effortless, joyful, and natural. The 6 -week Flow Writer Challenge will focus on removing all obstacles to dropping into the flow state while writing. Comparison is the enemy of flow and sabotages the content production stage of the writing process. Structure and referencing may be important but should be the focus of form, not content production. Once this is understood, a writer can dig deeper and discover their unique voice. Comparison dilutes individuality, promotes conformity, and prevents the perception of the present moment in all its immediacy and richness.

Awe walking- a mindful movement exercise to establish focused flow

This week I’ve been busy developing my app that will deliver the 6-week Flow Writer Challenge when it’s launched in a few weeks’ time. The blog had been put to one side while I got on with designing the challenge and the post-challenge programme. I then realised I was again flirting with my old friend overwhelm, which has also been reflected in the feedback from my writing coaching clients- all of them struggling with overwhelm, some due to multitasking and finding it difficult to carve out time to write, some overwhelmed by a need to organise rapidly multiplying ideas into a coherent plan for an article, others struggling with writing up their research design for a PhD upgrade. As I build my writing coaching practice, I am coming up against the problem of overwhelm over and over. This seems to be rooted in having too many things to do in a short space of time, but it is also a product of overthinking and catastrophizing by focusing on the potential for failure. These are very human problems that don’t only apply to writers of course. However, the isolation that accompanies the solitary occupation of writing can make it very difficult to step back from catastrophizing the future and reconnect to the reality of the present moment. When I need to reconnect to the present and realign to my flow, I take a short walk to my special place in the image below.

Aware of the temptation to fuse with a sense of overwhelm, despite the fact I’ve met all my goals and more this past week, I decided that rather than sit down at my desk and tackle my to do list, I’d try and shift my energy outward, and drop into the present moment. This is practice I recommend to my writing coaching clients who feel stuck or overwhelmed, and especially when they feel isolated. Writing is a solitary occupation. For an off the scale introvert like myself, lots of time alone rarely presents a problem but the stagnant energy that can result from sitting at a desk for hours can be an obstacle to maintaining motivation. That’s why the mindful focusing exercises I will be recommending in my 6-week Flow Writer Challenge will involve movement, rather than sitting. Today, rather just taking a stroll, I went for an ‘awe walk’- a mindful movement practice that helps overcome feelings of isolation and disrupts the inward downward spiral of overwhelm. All too often, writer’s overwhelm can result from focusing on an imaginary future where we fail to meet our writing goals.

I am fortunate to live on the Fife coastal path next to a beautiful fishing harbour (in the photo above) and large park with beaches, lawns, picnic benches and woods. So, when I need to take a walk in nature and reconnect with my environment, I merely walk out of my front door! Others who live in towns and cities may not find accessing nature so easy, but the mindful practice of awe walking can unveil a fresh appreciation of the apparently mundane while shifting stagnant energy and reconnecting us to our surroundings. Research has found that awe walking helps overcome feelings of isolation while also being good for our physical health. Awe is very powerful, and can reignite our creative process by dissolving a tendency towards overthinking and getting stagnant energy moving. The Greater Good Science Center at Berkeley offers a guide to a short 15-minute awe walking practice. I suggest visiting the site and following their guidance. I quote from their website below:

“With the right outlook, awe can be found in almost any environment, turning a mundane experience into a flight of inspiration and wonder. It is most likely to occur in places that have two key features: physical vastness and novelty. These could include natural settings, like a hiking trail lined with tall trees, or urban settings, like at the top of a skyscraper. You’re more likely to feel awe in a new place, where the sights and sounds are unfamiliar to you. That said, some places never seem to get old. No matter where you are, the key is to be in the right frame of mind. This practice is designed to help you get there—to turn an ordinary walk into a series of awe-inspiring moments, filled with delightful surprises.”

It is preferable to do this alone, with your phone on silent. I take my phone with me to take photos of the sights that evoke a sense of awe, but I always put the phone on silent. The guided practice from the website is reproduced below.

1. Take a deep breath in. Count to six as you inhale and six as you exhale. Feel the air move through your nasal passages and hear the sound of your breath. Come back to this breath throughout the walk. 2. As you start to walk, feel your feet on the ground and listen to the surrounding sounds. 3. Shift your awareness now so that you are open to what is around you, to things that are vast, unexpected, things that surprise and delight. 4. Take another deep breath in. Again, count to six as you inhale and six as you exhale. 5. Let your attention be open in exploration for what inspires awe in you. Is it a wide landscape? The small patterns of light and shadow? Let your attention move from the vast to the small. 6. Continue your walk and, every so often, bring your attention back to your breath. Count to six as you inhale and six as you exhale. Notice—really notice—the multitude of sights, sounds, smells, and other sensations that are dancing through your awareness, usually undetected. 7. Once you get in the habit of taking walks like this, you may be struck by how frequently you have opportunities to experience awe—they are practically infinite.

The walk can indoors or outdoors. For example, those in an urban setting could visit a gallery or museum if the immediate outdoor environment lacks novelty. You can also follow the guided awe walk meditation in the video below.

I enjoyed my awe walk today which I found energising and uplifting. It enabled me to reconnect with my environment and a sense of joy at being alive. On return, I sat down and wrote this post easily, in a state of focused flow. My awe walk imbued me with a fresh sense of possibility and freed me from overwhelm. If you find yourself overthinking the future and becoming overwhelmed at your writing desk, consider taking a short awe walk, or even a long one. The benefits to your writing process may surprise you. I intend to make this a daily practice. Cultivating a sense of awe regularly has enormous benefits by shifting the stagnant energy that can block access to your flow state.