by Jenny Hansen

A few weeks ago, I came across a LinkedIn post that stopped me mid-scroll. A business strategist, Chantel Soumis, asked a deceptively simple question:

“How much is too much?”

Her reflection was honest and beautifully human. She talked about working a full-time job she loves, serving on four boards, staying active in social circles, parenting, and juggling life’s never-ending subplots. Reading the post, I was exhausted FOR her, but she said she genuinely loves all of it.

And yet… loving everything on your plate doesn’t magically give you more hours in the day. Passion doesn’t prevent burnout. Joy doesn’t erase exhaustion.

As writers, we know this struggle. Most of us feel it in our bones. Some of us with chronic illness feel it in multiple places.

A Writer’s Reality: Creativity Doesn’t Respect Your Calendar

Storytelling is not something you turn on and off like a lamp. Stories arrive whenever they want. Characters refuse to behave on your preferred timeline. Your best ideas often show up in the shower, the parking lot, or in Aisle 17 at Walmart.

So, while you’re also navigating work, family, deadlines, friendships, health, caregiving, 43 open tabs in your browser, and the fourteenth urgent email of the day. . .“too much” becomes a real conversation.

5 Grounding Strategies to Help

Chantel offered five grounding strategies to help with the “Too Much,” and they translate wonderfully for writers and creatives. Below is my translation through a writer's lens.

1. Protect your energy like it’s intellectual property.

Your energy is your most valuable writing asset (besides your creativity, of course). Energy is more valuable than your word count, your writing schedule, or your marketing plan.

If you’re running on fumes, the writing suffers. The joy suffers. YOU suffer.

Rest isn’t a reward for finishing everything. Rest is the fuel for creating anything.

2. Align your “yes” with who you’re becoming.

Let me explain what I mean by that.

Writers tend to say yes to everything because we’re curious, compassionate, and often wildly overconfident in our future selves. But every “yes” has a cost.

Neil Gaiman said it perfectly in his 2012 commencement talk. It’s an awesome motivational talk, but here’s the summary of what he says about saying yes to the wrong things.

“Picture your [creative] dream as the distant mountain that you’re traveling to reach. If you believe something will move you closer to the mountain, then do that. But if something will take you further away from the mountain, let that thing go by.”

Say yes to the things that align with where you want to go, not just where you’ve been.

If your week or month or season is about writing a book, protect that time fiercely. This is also true of launching a blog, building your author platform, or formatting your manuscript.

3. Treat commitments like chapters, not life sentences.

Some projects, groups, and obligations are perfect for a time. That doesn’t make them permanent. Saying yes for today doesn’t mean you’ve said yes forever. It’s okay to join, contribute, grow. . .and then turn the page.

Writers evolve. Our needs and our bandwidth change. Even our stories or our genre will change if we let them.

4. Be fully present in the world you’re in.

When you’re writing, write. When you’re with family, be with family. When you’re editing, edit. When you’re resting, rest without allowing guilt to ruin it for you.

Trying to be perfect and present in all your worlds at once keeps you from fully living in any of them.

Your creativity thrives when your presence is anchored.

5. Leave room to be human.

You are not a content machine. You need to be rested, and your creative soul needs to be replenished. The responsibility for that replenishment is up to you. We all recharge differently.

Creativity needs wide margins.

Some of your richest creative insights, and definitely your best writing, come from quiet, unhurried spaces within your life. You are not a word factory. You are a storyteller. And storytellers need space to breathe, think, notice, think some more, and feel.

Bonus Reminder

There are two truths writers that often forget, but desperately need. Perhaps they are just my two truths, but I’m going to share them with you in case they apply to you too:

• You can love every single thing on your calendar and still feel stretched thin.
• You can be grateful for your life and still need boundaries to protect your creativity.

Final Thought

What story are you telling yourself with your life right now? Have you defined for yourself how much is “too much?”

If your days feel overflowing. . .If you’re juggling multiple roles with both joy and exhaustion. . .This post is your invitation to pause.

I’m not suggesting you quit or withdraw. Just pause.

Pause long enough to choose your next step with intention.

Pause because nothing steals a writer’s voice faster than overwhelm. (And nothing strengthens that voice faster than clarity.)

Pause so you can have a quiet moment, all for yourself. Fill it only with what you want, even if it’s just for 15 minutes. Those minutes are precious, and sometimes we forget to take them because we’re busy “doing all the things."

One last word, to give credit where it’s due.

Thank you to Chantel Soumis for sparking this post. I read it at the perfect time: in the middle of a short holiday season, when I needed permission to check in with my own capacity. (Note: it was lacking that day, and I was needlessly pushing it.)

May this post be your reminder that even in the middle of overflowing to-do lists, we can choose to spend some time doing the things that support our own growth, creativity, and well-being.

How do you navigate the busy seasons? What do you say yes to, and what have you learned to let go of? Please share down in the comments. Your story may be the one another writer needs today.

About Jenny

By day, Jenny Hansen provides brand storytelling, LinkedIn coaching, and copywriting for accountants and financial services firms. By night, she writes humor, memoir, women’s fiction, and short stories. After 20+ years as a corporate trainer, she’s delighted to sit down while she works.

Find Jenny here at Writers In the Storm, or online on Facebook or Instagram.

Top photo purchased from Depositphotos.

Original LinkedIn post: https://www.linkedin.com/posts/chantelsoumis_how-much-is-too-much-its-a-question-i-activity-7401998021661827073-GaQn/

By Julie Glover

A couple of weeks ago, I finished drafting the final novel in my YA contemporary series. Once I edit and release Pairing Anton, I’ll be ready for the next project. Which is…what? I don’t know yet.

Perhaps you’ve faced a similar dilemma, wondering what to write next—usually for one of two reasons.

Out of Fresh Ideas

Some writers pour themselves into the book they’re writing, reach the end, and face a blank slate in their mind. They need a break between books to observe the world around them, let the wheels turn in their heads, and come up with a fresh idea.

Here are some ways to come up with a great one:

Ask “what if”?

Stephen King encourages this approach in his popular book, On Writing. His ideas are a bit wilder than some, such as “What if vampires invaded a small New England village?” (Salem's Lot) and “What if a young mother and her son become trapped in their stalled car by a rabid dog?” (Cujo), but the notion is solid.

Your “what if” could be about a single person, a community, or the whole world. Here are some classic movie examples to show what I mean:

• What if you had to relive the same day again and again until you got it right? (Groundhog Day)
• What if a killer shark preyed on a small beach town? (Jaws)
• What if artificial intelligence took over? (The Terminator)

Create your own imaginative what-if, and you’ll have a compelling idea to work with!

Combine contrasting things.

Suzanne Collins came up with The Hunger Games by blending two opposite events: “I was flipping through the channels one night between reality television programs and actual footage of the Iraq War, when the idea came to me.” Contestants in one, soldiers in the other—mix and voila!, kids compete in a life-and-death game.

The first book in my YA series, Sharing Hunter, also used this approach. I was thinking about dating advice given to teen girls and then how huge shows like Big Love and Sister Wives had become. Next thing I know, I had the idea of two best friends sharing a boyfriend.

Take two things that don’t seem to go together and test out whether they might. If a combination strikes you as exciting, that might be your next book!

Watch and listen to people.

Tayari Jones was partly inspired to write An American Marriage after visiting her mother in Atlanta and overhearing a couple arguing. She explained, “I couldn’t get these people out of my head.” From there, she wrote her bestseller about a marriage torn apart by a wrongful conviction of one spouse.

Writers are, by nature, people watchers and eavesdroppers. Why? Because people are interesting and inspire stories without knowing it. So keep your eyes open, your ears peeled, and your pen ready.

Look wider in the world.

At any given time, numerous social issues can be explored through story. Alicia Ellis tackled today’s artificial intelligence concerns with her Flesh and Metalseries, Angie Thomas’s The Hate U Give was inspired by the Black Lives Matter movement, and Bonnie Garmus’s Lessons in Chemistry addressed sexism in the 1960s (and, let’s face it, beyond). Classics like Harper Lee’s To Kill a Mockingbird and George Orwell’s 1984 also wrestled with social issues of their time.

Consider what’s bugging you today. Maybe that issue could be the focus of your next book. 

Twist another story.

How many times has the basic plot of Romeo and Juliet been copied? Who knows, but it’s a lot. For instance, These Violent Delights by Chloe Gong retells Romeo and Juliet in 1920s Shanghai, A Hope Divided by Alyssa Cole depicts a star-crossed-lovers romance between a black woman and a Union soldier during the US Civil War, and Twilight by Stephenie Meyer essentially replaces Capulets and Montagues with humans and vampires.

Take someone else’s idea, twist it, and you’ll get a fresh plot! Honestly, that’s what Shakespeare did too. He often borrowed from others and built on it to create an original work. Good enough for the Bard? Good enough for you.

Too Many Ideas, Not Enough Time

Some writers have more ideas than they can write in a lifetime. How can you decide which ideas get the red flag, and which get the go-ahead?

Here are a few questions to ask:

What are your readers waiting for? It might be okay to pause and do something different, but If you have an established audience, you don’t want to keep them waiting too long for the next installment in your series or genre.

What needs to get wrapped up? Speaking of which, perhaps you should tie up the genre or series you’ve been writing before taking on a new project. Prioritizing the completion of your current body of work can free you up to fully concentrate on the next grand idea.

What do you have the time and energy for? Maybe writing the medieval family epic you’d love to pen isn’t the best choice for your crazy calendar, but you could probably knock out the shorter, lighthearted rom-com. Consider what your life will allow right now and lean toward projects you can actually finish.

What won’t let you go? Is there an idea that won’t leave you alone? Maybe it’s a plot idea you had, a first draft you wrote, or a half-finished manuscript tucked away somewhere. For various reasons, you haven’t completed it, but the project is like an earworm in your mind—unwilling to let go. That might mean it’s time to tackle it.

What do friends or colleagues tell you to write? Of course, you shouldn’t write whatever others tell you to. Rather, come up with what you want to write, narrow your list, and then get input from people you trust. It could be friends, family, critique partners, or writing colleagues, but they likely have valuable feedback worth your attention.

As for me, I’m in the too-many-ideas camp, but two potentials have been calling out to me the most. So I’m delivering the first chapters of each project to my critique group for their input.

What should you write next? Only you can make that decision. But hopefully, you’ve gotten a few ideas for how to solve the dilemma.

Do you ever wonder what to write next?
How do you decide?

About Julie

Julie Glover is an award-winning author of young adult and mystery fiction. Her contemporary YA includes Sharing Hunter, Daring Charlotte, and coming-soon, Pairing Anton, and she has written several YA paranormal stories. She has also co-authored five supernatural suspense novels and two short stories in the mythology-based Muse Island series under her pen name Jules Lynn.

With her coauthor, Christina Delay, she recently published Together, We Write: An Author's Complete Guide to Cowriting, currently available as an e-book and soon coming out in print.

A native of Texas, she now lives in Denton with her hottie husband, her loquacious cat, and her large collection of cowgirl boots.

Photo credit: Konstantin Postumitenko, Prostock-studio @Canva; Professor25, Getty Images Pro @Canva

By Sarah (Sally) Hamer

We all want to write stories that people remember. But what makes a story memorable? I believe that legendary books, ones that live on for years, have one major similarity, the transformation of a character. It’s like a character arc is magic, taking the imperfect human as a lump of clay and crafting it into a breathtakingly beautiful vase. We’ve all seen it happen, probably even written that arc ourselves. So, how did we get there and get there again?

One of the most powerful ways to craft such an arc is to take what seems like a “negative” trait, whether fear or stubbornness or arrogance or naivety, and show how, through struggle and growth, that trait becomes a strength. We’re not trying to erase the flaw. It’s the basis of who the character is. It means reframing it, tempering it, and allowing it to evolve into a gift. And, hopefully, turn it into legend.

Why Negative Traits Matter

In my editing and teaching, I often find writers who refuse to be mean to their characters. “But I love them!” is a common excuse. LOL! But, if we want our readers to love them, they can’t be perfect from page one. Dull! Boring! It’s the cracks in a character’s armor that let the light in.

A negative trait is not just a weakness—it’s a seed of potential. Stubbornness can become perseverance. Arrogance can soften into confidence. Fear can sharpen into wisdom. And, interestingly enough, when you design a character arc around this transformation, you give readers a mirror for their own lives. We all know what it feels like to wrestle with our shadows. Watching a character redeem theirs is deeply satisfying. It gives us hope that we can transform our lives too.

The Framework of Transformation

1. Show the Harm – Early in the story, let the negative trait cause problems. Readers need to see why it’s unsustainable.
2. Introduce Pressure – Place the character in situations where the trait is tested and its limits are revealed.
3. Reframe the Trait – Through failure, loss, or revelation, the character begins to see the trait differently.
4. Culminate in Choice – The climax should hinge on the character using the “redeemed” version of the trait to succeed.

Remember, the harder the journey, especially one filled with emotional “danger,” the more the transformation feels earned.

Case Study: The Fearful Heroine

Let’s bring this to life with a concrete example. Imagine a young heroine named Elira, living in 18th‑century Europe. She begins her story in poverty, defined by fear, and ends it as a woman of courage and responsibility.

Act I: The Silent Girl

Elira grows up in a rural hamlet, where survival depends on invisibility. She lowers her eyes when tax collectors ride through, hides when soldiers pass, and avoids speaking her mind. Fear is her shield. It keeps her safe but also keeps her small.

When her village is raided, she is taken to the city as a servant in a wealthy household. She believes she has no power, only the duty to obey. Her fear deepens: in this new world, a wrong word could mean punishment or worse.

Act II: The Crucible of Power

In the city, Elira witnesses cruelty and corruption. She sees fellow servants beaten, townsfolk starved, and the casual brutality of the elite. Her fear intensifies.

She is ordered to carry messages and overhear conversations. Her silence protects her, but it also harms others. When a friend suffers because she stayed quiet, Elira realizes her fear is no longer protecting her, now it is betraying her values and she feels guilty about not acting.

This is the turning point. She begins to see that fear is not only a chain but also a compass. It sharpens her awareness, helps her notice details others miss, and warns her of danger. If she can learn to act with fear rather than against it, she might find a new kind of strength.

Act III: From Fear to Fire

When unrest boils over—a food shortage, a rebellion, or a conspiracy—Elira must decide whether to remain silent or act. She chooses to act.

Her fear guides her to move carefully, to plan, to notice the cracks in the system. She uses her memory and insight to pass information, smuggle food, or warn townsfolk. What once paralyzed her now makes her wise and strategic.

In the climax, she risks her life to reveal the truth. Her courage is not the absence of fear but the decision to act in spite of it.

Resolution: The Steward of Voices

Elira’s actions save lives and shift the balance of power. She is no longer the voiceless girl from the village but a trusted witness and advisor. She still feels fear, but now it walks beside her as an ally.

The final image: she stands before a gathering, her voice steady, carrying across the square. The girl who once hid in shadows now speaks for many.

Lessons for Writers

Elira’s arc illustrates several key principles you can apply to your own stories:

• Don’t erase the flaw, redeem it. Fear doesn’t vanish from Elira’s life. It transforms into caution, empathy, and wisdom.
• Make the flaw costly. Early on, her silence harms others. This ensures the transformation feels necessary.
• Tie the flaw to the climax. The story’s resolution hinges on her ability to use fear differently. Without that, the arc would feel disconnected.
• Ground the arc in context. Setting the story in a historical moment of unrest makes her transformation believable. She doesn’t rise by magic but by necessity.

Why Readers Love This Arc

Readers resonate with arcs like Elira’s because they mirror real life. Most of us don’t shed our flaws overnight. We learn to live with them, to reshape them, to find the gift hidden inside the wound.

Fear, in particular, is universal. We all know what it feels like to be afraid of speaking up, of stepping forward, of being seen. Watching a character transform fear into courage gives us hope that we can do the same.

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Practical Exercise for Writers

If you’d like to try this in your own work, here’s a simple exercise:

1. Choose a Negative Trait – Pick one for your protagonist: fear, arrogance, stubbornness, naivety, recklessness.
2. List the Costs – Write down three ways this trait causes harm in the first act.
3. Reframe the Trait – Ask: what hidden strength lies inside this flaw? How could it become a gift?
4. Design the Turning Point – Create a moment where the character realizes the flaw is no longer protecting them.
5. Plan the Climax – Ensure the character’s success depends on using the redeemed version of the trait.

This exercise will help you design arcs that feel both authentic and inspiring.

The beauty of storytelling lies in its ability to reveal transformation. By turning negative traits into positive ones, we remind readers that growth is possible, that flaws can be reframed, and that even fear can become fire.

When you craft a character like Elira, someone who begins in shadows and ends in light, you’re not just telling a story. You’re offering a mirror, a map, and a spark. And that spark may be exactly what your readers need to kindle their own courage.

What traits do your favorite characters have? How do they transform? Please share it with us down in the comments!

About Sarah

Sarah (Sally) Hamer, B.S., MLA, is a lover of books, a teacher of writers, and a believer in a good story. Most of all, she is eternally fascinated by people and how they 'tick'. She’s passionate about helping people tell their own stories and has won awards at both local and national levels, including two Golden Heart finals.

A teacher of memoir, beginning and advanced creative fiction writing, and screenwriting at Louisiana State University in Shreveport for over twenty years, she also teaches online for Margie Lawson at www.margielawson.com and for the No Stress Writing Academy at https://www.worldanvil.com/w/classes-deleyna/a/no-stress-writing-academy.  Sally is a free-lance editor and book coach, with many of her students and clients becoming successful, award-winning authors.

You can find her at info@mindpotential.org

Top photo licensed from Depositphotos.