The 3 Acts of a Writer’s Life–Or How Your Age Affects Your Writing

I’ve been writing consistently since I was twelve, which means I’ve now been writing for the (amazingly long very short?) period of twenty-two years. In that time, almost as much about my writing has changed as has remained the same.

This is something I’ve been casually pondering for a while now. Then, last week, I received the following email from David Hall:

Down the street I can see 70 years coming toward me. A few more months and it will be impossible to avoid. Have you ever discussed age and how it affects the material we write?

For starters, let me say that this one of my favorite types of email to receive—those sent to me by older writers who are either just starting out or are still going strong. With this year’s birthday, I will reach the moment in my life where fifty is as near to me in the future as twenty is in the past (and since I still feel like I’m a seventeen-year-old who was somehow given a fake ID, I’m experiencing a mild case of shock over the realization). It is deeply inspiring to me to realize how much can yet be accomplished in the years still before me.

I’m also beginning to realize that whatever those years bring, I will almost certainly be surprised by their offerings. Certainly, the effects on my experiences as a writer are vastly different to me as an adult than they were when I was a child. Indeed, since I never expected things to change at all in that regard, the differences I’ve encountered have all been tremendous surprises, sometimes disturbing, sometimes delightful.

Although at present, I can offer only a limited amount of personal insight into the how your age affects your writing (no doubt David could offer a good deal more himself), since I was asked I thought it might be a fun topic to explore. This is especially so in light of the fact that the readers who frequent this site present a vast variance in age—and also because this is, inevitably, a topic that touches us all.

The Three Acts of the Writing Life

Interestingly enough, this idea of life evolution and how age affects our perspective of and impact on life is one I’ve lately been exploring from the lens of story theory. As I’ve teased a few times on the podcast, I’m currently wrapping up research for a new blog series that will explore successive archetypal character arcs, which are representative of the seasons—or acts—of life.

As a sneak peak, since it ties in with today’s subject, I believe we see the pattern of story structure’s Three Acts played out in the typical human lifetime—in which approximately thirty years comprises each act.

The First Act—roughly, our first thirty years—is largely about defining our relationships with ourselves and our own personal identities. When the archetypal arcs of those years are properly completed, they lay the foundation for healthy arcs in the following acts.

The Second Act, made up of roughly the next thirty years, is focused on our relationships with others—friends, mates, children, community.

Finally, the Third Act—what for most of us will be the last thirty or so years in this life—then becomes the climactic act, which focuses on our relationship to Life and Death itself, in all its transcendent mystery.

Even though I began studying these “life arcs” as a way to further develop my understanding of how to structure my characters’ arcs in the most resonant way, the reason these arcs are archetypal is because they necessarily first apply to our own lives. Because I can already see the First and now the Second Acts playing out in my life, I believe the archetypal principles of the Third will ring true as well.

The Writing of Youth: Writing to Ourselves

Why We Write: In both my young self and in the many young writers with whom I regularly interact, I see the ebullient joy of creation simply for creation’s sake and a sort of desperation—as represented in Jo March’s statement (from the 1994 film adaptation of Little Women):

Late at night my mind would come alive with voices and stories and friends as dear to me as any in the real world. I gave myself up to it, longing for transformation.

We start writing for the pure joy of it, whether it is the joy of fantasizing ourselves into the midst of miraculous adventures or the cathartic joy of our angst poured out in characters who are deeply intimate projections of ourselves.

What We Write: When we are young, writing is an exploration. I daresay the young dislike the stricture that we should “write what we know” more than any of us. After all, the only things we know at that age are what we write.

And we write all kinds of things—fantasy, romance, adventure, even serious social dramas. We are perhaps never more derivative than in the beginning, as we begin inhabiting and owning the stories of others which have first carried us away with ourselves. But we are also perhaps never more original than at this age—when everything is new. When I look back at the stories I wrote in my First Act, there is a special freshness and passion within their rawness and clumsy technique. For all that my adult novels are technically “better,” they are not stories I inhabit in the same way I did those early ones.

How We Write: We write like Jo March, scribbling madly away into the night. However much we may desire the approval and enjoyment of early readers, we write these stories for ourselves. We write, not because it’s a job, not because we’ve made it a goal to show up at the desk everyday, but because we want to. We write ourselves bleary into the night and think it the greatest fun of all.

We write with varying degrees of control and technique. If we pursue our writing diligently as time rolls on, we begin to discover that writing is not simply the breathing of one’s soul upon the page. It is, indeed, the art of communication, and that however innately talented or imaginative we believes ourselves, we aren’t actually that good at it. The angsty teenage years begin in earnest, affecting our writing as much as anything else, and we begin to take it all very seriously.

The Writing of Adulthood: Writing to Others

Why We Write: Well into my twenties, I insisted I wrote for myself and that I would continue to write even if I knew no one would ever read what I wrote. Although I still (mostly) stand by that, I have witnessed a distinct change in myself here in my mid-thirties. My Second Act has seen me grieve for and grapple with the fallen expectation that my relationship to my writing would always be as ecstatic as it was in my First Act. More than that, I’ve surprised myself by realizing that not only do I now write as much for others as for myself, but that it is important to me to do so.

If writing in the First Act was all about my joy in expressing and exploring myself, writing in my Second Act has brought with it the increasing awareness of my responsibility in relating with others and, indeed, my great desire to use writing to have a positive impact on my world. “There’s no such thing as just a story”—this statement began in my twenties as a passionate defense of the idea that my stories were an important part of my life, but has since transmogrified into an even more passionate belief that every word we write—fictional or not—is a catalyst either for good or for ill.

What We Write: The blaring passion of our early stories gives way to a more deliberate pursuit of meaningful resonance and purposeful originality. Although we may well “have just one story to tell and go on telling it over and over again in different ways,” we grow significantly more refined in our execution. The type of stories we tell may change entirely. The more ground we cover the more we may branch out, experimenting with how to share our enduringly passionate truths in original ways that avoid treading the same ground.

We become more conscious of the symbolism and themes that populate our stories. We understand what we are writing more clearly, to the point that ideas we would have blithely written about in the First Act are now rejected or perhaps just honed.

If we’re writing professionally, we’re also writing for others not just as a communal whole, but as customers. We’re constantly trying to find that balance between the old youthful enthusiasm, the demands and desires of the market, and our own purposeful convictions about the nature of art. In my experience of the Second Act so far, that is the hardest balance to perfect.

How We Write: For those of us who began writing in our First Act, we have the blessing of years of experience and learning behind us at this point. We’ve made mistakes and learned from them—both in style and in process. We’re perhaps at the stage of “knowing what we know.”

But that same experience that allows us to easily avoid the beginner’s mistakes can also lead us to burnout and repetitive fatigue. Some of the methods that served us well in the first blush of youthful passion no longer come as easily. We have to reconnect with the inner child, with the deep motivations that brought us to writing in the first place. We have to learn how to harmonize the child and the adult into a new synthesis that is built upon the past but also completely different from what we may have taken for granted would always be our own particular creative experience.

The Writing of Age: Writing to the Universe

Why We Write: As we enter the Third Act, I imagine we may well find ourselves having proven—to ourselves and to others—many of the challenges that seemed so vital in our early acts. There is a return of sorts to the old stomping ground of the First Act, when we wrote purely for ourselves because we wanted to and because it brought us joy. But now we write from the vantage of long years of experience and knowledge.

The passionate stories we wrote as children were questions we asked of the life that lay before us. Many of those questions have now found their answers. Now it is something else that lies before us and new questions that our stories ask. So I imagine we write both for ourselves—to ask these larger questions—but also for others—to leave to them some of the answers we have found.

What We Write: I think there is a period late in the First Act and throughout most of the Second when we care zealously about how our writing will be received and what sort of impact it may make on our readers. But I also think that at a certain point we don’t care as much. Authors in their Third Act aren’t as rigorous with their form anymore. They begin experimenting more. They are asking questions again rather than just filling in the expected answers, and these questions show up in how they treat the actual process of writing as much as anything else. There is a playfulness that may not have been fully present previously.

Too, I see in many older authors a deeper passion than ever before. Their time is limited. Their own life stories are coming to a close. They have only so much longer to share the stories that are important and to give to the following generations—of both readers and writers—the truths they have won in their own hard-fought battles. If our Third Act sees us sometimes more playful than we have allowed ourselves to be before, it may also see us more intense than ever.

How We Write: After a lifetime of writing (or even just a lifetime of living come to that), there is a good deal of instinct that naturally flows through us. Techniques we struggled with in the First and Second Acts are long since mastered. If story itself remains an affectionately unruly beast, it is perhaps one we no longer view with the same frustrated suspicion we sometimes did in our earlier life. Perfection may both come more easily and, in some measure, be less important. We’re now writing less because we have something to prove to the world and more because we have something to share.


In closing this post, I realize even more than when I began it that I’m massively unqualified to have written it, since more than half of my ideas about it are total conjecture. Still, it has been a thought-provoking exercise and roused a hopefully not-too-idealistic anticipation of what the rest of my Second Act and all of my Third Act will bring for me as a writer. Since we are all at different points in our life stories, I hope you will share you own insights into how age affects your writing—both in its challenges and its opportunities.

Wordplayers, tell me your opinions! How does age affect your writing? Tell me in the comments!

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About K.M. Weiland | @KMWeiland

K.M. Weiland is the award-winning and internationally-published author of the acclaimed writing guides Outlining Your Novel, Structuring Your Novel, and Creating Character Arcs. A native of western Nebraska, she writes historical and fantasy novels and mentors authors on her award-winning website Helping Writers Become Authors.


  1. Kim, your posts are my ‘go to’ for writing lessons and inspiration. Thank you! This latest one must have been fun but challenging as you attempted to imagine the one/third of life you have yet to live.

    I am exactly twice your age and found your perspective interesting but would like to offer my thoughts.

    Many of us in the third act are alone. Family responsibilities are a distant memory and we have time – vast oceans of it – to do with as we please. You suggested that writers in their third stage reach ‘a certain point we don’t care as much’ how our writing will be received and its impact on our readers. I can only speak for myself, but I care very much about the connections I make with people through my writing. They become almost like extended family. I write to inspire my readers to contemplate deeper truths, let go of destructive beliefs, trust in their ability to solve problems and to fully live their lives. More than anything, I want to make a strong impact.

    You also wrote that ‘authors in their Third Act aren’t as rigorous with their form anymore.’ Hopefully, by this point I know the rules and can get away with breaking them. That being said, I break them with studied intention. I love to experiment but my first concern is my audience. I keep in mind who I will alienate and whether or not it’s worth it.

    ‘They are asking questions again.’

    Yes, we are, but I no longer expect yes or no answers and I’m much more comfortable with ambiguity than I used to be. I’ve realized that today’s right response may not work tomorrow and I’m okay with that.

    Thank you for prompting me to think about how I write (and why) in this final phase. As I said, I’m a huge fan and look forward to learning more from you. Keep up the great work!

    • K.M. Weiland | @KMWeiland says

      Yes, I dove into it thinking it would be an interesting subject to explore–then realized I was a middle-schooler trying to write about college experiences. :p

      • K.M., you didn’t present your post as the last word on the topic, but honestly posing it as an exploration, inviting any and all to contribute to the conversation. Thanks for opening up the subject!

        Although I’m chronologically in the Third Act, I find myself relating more to your Second Act, especially when you brought up that “not only do I now write as much for others as for myself, but that it is important to me to do so.” I’m moving more and more determinedly into this as I build my portfolio for post-retirement occupation in writing and editing, and build my platform to support this goal.

        Anything that engages our minds in creative contemplation is good!

        • K.M. Weiland | @KMWeiland says

          I’m already interested to see what I’ll think about what I’ve written here in another thirty years! :p

  2. As I approach 80 and work towards the publication of the last book in my first series, It makes me smile to hear a young person, shocked at nearing 50. When I realised that I still saw the world through young eyes, new and exciting, and removed all the mirrors from my house, growing old became so much easier. Imagine the power we would have, if you had my life experience and I had your writing experience. I love your podcasts. Keep well, James.

  3. mary hagen says

    Sometimes, I feel like the oldest writer alive but I couldn’t survive without doing so. I started writing contemporary romances, moved to western historical romances, wrote a women in jeopardy story based on my experience, and am now writing mysteries. It took me a long time to think I could. I guess my age helped me give it a try. The book is now published. At first, I was published traditionally. With my last three books, I decided to try indie. I’ve been told it is not a good idea to change genres. I think as I get older I don’t really care what I’m suppose to do or not do.
    Your blogs are always interesting and inspirational.

  4. So inspirational reading your post and the accompanying comments. As a retired academic now with loads of time to finally start writing, just turned 70 and loving the freedom, I found your reflections powerful and insightful for such a young person! No offence! Love your work. The real challenge for me in writing contemporary novels is to keep u with the technology in the content. No more landline phones ringing! No more searching for answers anywhere other than google no more old fashioned relationships and careers for characters. Its a great challenge! However it does mean I have tons of life experience to share through characters and also specific knowledge to share in my storylines, which does give some depth. Its not all made up-its lived experience. You have so much more to experience in life and it can only add to your depth of emotional and intellectual resources for sharing in your writing. You are amazing . Keep up the work. Dr. Jean Healey

  5. I thought this was well-thought out, K.M. I am in the third part of my journey in writing but in truth, still learning how to get there and beyond.

  6. I was intrigued by this post as soon as I read the title. I’m 75, and have been writing throughout my life, personally in journals and also professionally. I also taught English and writing, both creative and business, starting in my mid-40s.

    I now keep separate notebooks for different types of writing; I use personal journals for exploring those “third-age” questions using inquiry, and sometimes experimenting with different styles of writing. Lines of poetry, imaginary conversations, short essays, chunks of memoir, and musing thoughts appear at random intervals. If I think I may want to include something in a project, I put one of those little arrow markers on the page, and can easily find it later.

    I have more than one writing project–a novel, a short story collection, and some creative nonfiction ideas. There is a separate notebook for each project, so I can pick it up at any time and write by hand. I have a tendency to wake up at 2 a.m., and find that a fruitful time for creativity!

    I do like to write with pen and paper, but sometimes I compose original material on the computer, where it will all end up eventually anyway.

    Whether or not I publish isn’t a driving issue, although I am working on bringing a couple of projects to publishable completion. I’m an audience of one who sometimes shares, with a view that others may take off from my POV and continue to develop their own.

    One of the joys of being this age is that if I circle back around to questions that were there in younger times, I become aware of the richness that age and life experience can offer–a much more inclusive and expanded view of life and the world.

    Thank you for your blog, KM. I read it most weeks, and find you to be an inspiration.

  7. Lynda Courtright says

    Dear Katie,

    I am 70 years old but regard myself as a new writer. Although much of my working career involved business and technical writing, I didn’t try my hand at fiction until late in life, and it is a whole different experience for me.

    Your description of the 3 acts resonates with my experience of writing fiction, but time is so condensed for the 3 acts because I began late. I began to seriously write fiction about 10 years ago after a devastating experience in my family. Writing about my feelings through imaginary characters helped me work through what id gone through. Similar to the Act 1 writer searching to discover him or herself. Through that time I didn’t think much about publishing. I wrote for me. And I doubted anyone else would read it.

    At some point, though, I looked back at what I had written, and it was pretty good. I shared it with friends, who encouraged me to continue. A year ago I attended a writers conference and pitched the first couple of chapters to several agents, who said they liked it a lot, and to please finish it. I am amazed. That turned me to consider who my reader is, what my reader wants, what I want to say, what publishers want, etc. Like the second act.

    But now that I’ve determined to share my story to whoever will read it, I find my mind turning to what you described as the third act. I try to resist this temptation to try to turn my fun little story that has just a bit of introspection into some Grand Novel proclaiming a Great Truth. I suppose I’ll find some balance as I continue!

    Thank you for your posts. I learn a lot from you and am also encouraged by what you have to say.

    • K.M. Weiland | @KMWeiland says

      The reason story structure works is because it mirrors life. But the timing in real life is often less specific or easy to pin down–in part because we often have so many stages and stories overlapping in different “acts.”

  8. Great article! I can see from the comments that this resonated with many people.

    I started writing when I was twelve. I agree with you that there is a big difference between writing for yourself and writing books that other people will want to read.

    • K.M. Weiland | @KMWeiland says

      Finding the balance between writing what you want and what others will enjoy is an enjoyable challenge in itself.

  9. Nolan White says

    My most creative and productive years were during my 50s, Katie, so look at the bright side.

  10. Anne Greening says

    My writing career has two stages – happy dilettante, and obsessive novelist. Until the age of 85, I dabbled in many genres; from day-to-day business writing, to verse, the occasional newspaper column, skits and sketches, and thoughtful essays, and even a one-act play.

    My first tentative venture into fiction came when I joined a writing circle, with no thought of doing more than enjoying scribbling with a group of compatible companions. Flash fiction! This was fun. A couple of hundred words of whatever silly stories came into my addled brain. Just a single page of writing did not test my butterfly brain. I knew that I could never stick to one project long enough to write a novel. Not me. “Concentration” is not in my lexicon.

    And then along came NaNoWriMo. I love challenges. This could be fun! I had a blast. At 6 am on the 1st November, I was at my computer, writing. 23 days later, I had the first draft of my first novel – 52000 words of it. That was my watershed moment. The ecstatic buzz that comes when you write “The End” had me hooked. I was instantly addicted.

    For the last decade, I had been contemplating what I really wanted to do with what remained of my life. My husband had just died, and for the first time ever, I was responsible for no-one else, and to no-one else. I had several interests, but I understood that, as the infirmities of old age started to limit my activities, I would no longer be able to pursue some of them. NaNo had solved my dilemma. It showed me that I CAN write write novels, and that I WANT TO write write novels.

    Finding my metier coincided with the happy state of no longer caring about what people think about me; which comes to us in the twilight of our lives. I had written a romance, complete with sex scenes. Briefly, I was coy about mentioning this – but what-the-hell. I now boast about it. To raised eyebrows, and “How can you do it at your age?” I have a response. “I’m a bit out of practice, but I still have a good memory, and an excellent imagination.”

    And so here I am, and the age of 87 – having spent the 18 months since NaNo going through the whole process of editing, revising, more editing and revising; on the cusp of self-publishing my first novel: with a novella hot on its heels, and two more works in progress.

    • K.M. Weiland | @KMWeiland says

      “The happy state of no longer caring about what people think about me; which comes to us in the twilight of our live.”

      Totally looking forward to that! :p

  11. S.V England says

    I wished to argue with you even before reading your piece, prepared for some ageism, defensive, I was entrenched. You opened a door, several doors.
    Back there I found my passion and hope, my energy and the huge thirst in me to forge a career in writing that would take me away from being a shop-assistant, failed at school, to a woman, a journalist who might even save some part of the world. Then there was the middle part, where in my case I felt some disillusionment, I had not saved the people I wanted to save and so I left writing, took up counselling and teaching and parenting.
    Then comes this third stage where again I have passion, where the weave of my creative writing has a texture and a taste. Somewhere in there I gained an MA. I have been published. I do long to try new things and death can wait, I hope! I miss those I have lost. Grief is the large presence of ghosts.
    The relationship arcs though were more about finding my ground. My early years where I received love but also abuse and loss. The years when I didn’t deal with this and encountered more abuse. The ground where I raced away from the Heathcliffe types and as a mother parenting alone had the great good fortune to meet a really good man, realised at last that real chemistry is an internal thing. This love – the love of acceptance of my real self has ignited a passion is better than anything I experienced before. When I was young and beautiful that beauty seemed to belong to someone else, it wasn’t mine. Now my beauty is the interior world and I feel its truth. Not everyone sees that but poor them! What matters is the beauty of nature, the absolute beauty of being. Death can wait, this is my time and I will write to that open gate and out – out into the field.

    • K.M. Weiland | @KMWeiland says

      “When I was young and beautiful that beauty seemed to belong to someone else, it wasn’t mine. Now my beauty is the interior world and I feel its truth.”

      Thank you for this. It’s a truth I feel I needed to hear, today especially since it ties in within some things I’ve been pondering. I will tuck it away for the future, when I will probably need it even more!

  12. When I was younger my writing reflected the lives I secretly wanted to live. At 6 I was writing short stories about treasure hunts with friends, at 10 going to boarding school with midnight feasts. As a teenager it was love poetry full of yearning. As I hit my twenties I wrote 3 superficial romantic novels (unpublished). Pretty rubbish but by golly I was up at 5 every morning scribbling away before heading out to my paid job and back at my writing every evening . In my thirties my writing was neglected as I juggled family and work and it wasn’t until my late fifties I restarted. This time round I’ve been more ambitious wanting to write novels that pose serious questions. i may not have the same energy that my younger self threw at her writing but I’m more widely read and have a better understanding of story, structure and character.

  13. I have been writing in fits and starts across my life. As a child I wrote stories and illustrated them. In my teens I kept a journal. In my 20s I wrote short stories and won a trip to Europe for one of them. Then I dabbled with YA when I became an English teacher, followed by picture books when I became a mum. All of my writing found a home in my bottom drawer; I was a bottom drawer publisher. I was too scared to send my stories out into the world; As I got older rejection scared me. In my 40s I started blogging. I still blog. When I turned 50 (I am 53) we moved to a new city (Sydney to Brisbane) I decided, with our fresh new life, that I would do what I have always wanted to do … become a published author. I am on this journey now. I am writing my first novel, I have planned a children’s chapter book, I still blog and I am doing a post graduate degree in creative writing. I attend workshops, I read prolifically and have joined writing groups. Sometimes I think I should’ve been more motivated and directed in my pursuit to be a writing in my 20s, 30s and 40s but on reflection I know that I am now highly motivated and driven because of the life experience I have gained along the way.

  14. What a great post. I have yet to come across one like it that discusses age and writing. I struggle with the fact that I just turned 50. I’m about three years into a new “age” of my writing, the first time I’ve taken it as seriously as this. In some ways, writing now is more difficult. My body is not the same, I tire more easily, I have aches and pains. However, age has brought to me some gifts as well. I know now that writing takes an extraordinary amount positive self-dialogue because we’re oftentimes working alone and don’t get kudos or rewards (at least if we’re still unpublished even still large gaps exist between publication and reviews). Also, writing can be demoralizing, especially in the review stage.

    Between 18 and 32, I lacked the infrastructure internally to withstand the negative parts of writing and the writing world. I hardly knew who I was albeit I knew I loved writing. In order to determine your “right” genre, your “right” trajectory, you have to have established your “self.” While I think this is easier for people who come from stable backgrounds and childhoods in which their talents were supported and nurtured, many of us didn’t have that – I didn’t. My parents were too involved in their own problems. Through therapy and a long, loving relationship, I have built the kind of self-worth I didn’t have at a younger age. I could not be the writer I am now without that. That being said, there are many stories of conflicted young writers (Hemingway comes to mind but then again, he was a drinker) who were working writers in their 20s.

    Thank you K.M. for your heartfelt insight. You are an inspiration.

    • K.M. Weiland | @KMWeiland says

      So inspiring that you have “self-educated” yourself into a stable place despite the foundation of your childhood not being all it could have been.

  15. Clifford Farris says

    Ages so true. Well into Stage 3, I find my living and writing has a confidence never before seen. Coule you call it, “Don’t give a damn?”. Possibly, except that my care for others is broad and my judgement limited. I have seen many varieties of peoples in their lives and stories, seen and lived their struggles with their demons, seen more dragons that you would imagine. Let’s hope this adds vividness to my stories. My readers think so.

    • K.M. Weiland | @KMWeiland says

      “Could you call it, ‘Don’t give a damn?’ Possibly, except that my care for others is broad…”

      This is it exactly! That balance between extremes.

  16. At 61, I’m happy to be a member of K. M.’s geezer corp! Your article was great and I find it encouraging to read of other authors in my age range initiating writing careers. For my part, I’ve been hammering away at this for years and just coming to think that I may need to accept that it is a hobby rather than a retirement vocation.

    Your article was another nice present, and I’m going to be a bit ungracious. I don’t think the three act set works for the real world. Our lives are too messy, with too many threads and too few actual end points. Every breath is an opportunity for a new inciting incident. Every conversation a potential complication with climaxes coming and going and resolution never really arriving.

    Thanks again young lady for your thoughtfulness.

    • K.M. Weiland | @KMWeiland says

      Thanks for chiming in. As with all archetypal perspectives, the Three Acts are literally true only in an abstract way. But I think we see the pattern play out, in an ever-expanding spiral, over and over throughout our lives.

      • So you’re putting the three act perspective together with a cyclical view, or at least those are the words I’m putting into your mouth. That’s an interesting perspective. A somewhat odd combination – I’m not sure whether to meditate on it or write a play!

  17. Hi, Kate. Thank you for tackling this very relevant topic that never gets discussed. I have heard that people become less inhibited as they age. However, at age 70, I feel even more so. I am reluctant to write something that would cause pain to others. But that is what writing is all about: stir the pot and provoke the senses. It is where insight and transformation happen. Without friction, we stagnate. So, I struggle to give myself permission to write the tough words even as my writer friends and others offer powerful encouragement to get my words out there because the world needs them.

    • K.M. Weiland | @KMWeiland says

      I believe that honesty only speaks to honesty. But we can’t expect others to find honesty within themselves in response to our work, if we’re not first willing to be honest in the writing.

      • Billie Wade says

        Yes, honesty eclipses everything. I will remember honesty as I write rather than consequences and fallout. Thank you very much.

  18. Billie Wade says

    Hi, Kate. Thank you for tackling aging as writers which I have not seen elsewhere. I have heard that we become less inhibited with age. At age 70, I have become more so. I fear my words will cause pain to others. But that is the whole point of writing; stir the pot and distress the senses. Tension is where insight and transformation happen. I struggle to give myself permission to write the tough words, creating world’s worst case of writer’s block. My friends, writers and otherwise, strongly encourage me to get my words out there. The world needs them.

    • K.M. Weiland | @KMWeiland says

      Here’s a quote I instinctively loved as a teen and which makes a little more sense to me with every passing year:

      “I speak the truth not so much as I would, but as much as I dare; and I dare a little more as I grow older.”–Catherine Drinker Bowen

  19. KPerkins says

    Reading this, I realize that at nearly 30, I’m starting to shift into my 2nd act of life. I’ll look at my earlier stuff and marvel at the veritable insanity that I penned, the lively explorations of creativity, and I look at my work now and wonder where that went. It was nice to read this post and realize that I’m not alone, and also that the shift isn’t necessarily a bad thing. Yes, I need to focus more on retaining that child’s creativity, but it’s not a bad thing to shift from writing solely for myself to writing for others.

    I’ve been feeling burned out, and while part of it is that I’ve been keeping a breakneck pace in my work, I wonder if perhaps some of the aggravation I feel with myself is in that instinctive change of focus. Maybe now I’ll be able to flow with it a little better, and use it to make my writing better!

    • K.M. Weiland | @KMWeiland says

      Haha. I totally relate to the “veritable insanity.” The bad part is I’ve published some of it. :p

  20. Paul Egbert says

    Hi, Katie. This is certainly one of your very best posts. At first I thought, “Interesting, but certainly not me! At 70 years and 3 months and as yet unpublished, I’m different!”

    But then I read all the comments and pondered a bit, and yeah, we all gotta add our individual “if’s and but’s” into our acts, but it’s true. Once again I’m an ordinary human.

    I thoroughly enjoy your blog posts and books I’ve read. Your observations and thoughts are spot-on and well conveyed to the reader. Thanks for all.


  21. Hi, Katie that was really inspirational. I really liked your blog. I am also a writer and I am really inspired and all thanks to you.

  22. Adrienne Horky Nesiba says

    Well Katie, or KM, you know I have been intermittently struggling through the same manuscript for 6 or so years, due to illness and two lifesaving surgeries. With the first surgery, as a “cancer survivor,” I title I truly hated and didn’t want, I just typed my story straight into the laptop and then had to edit it a million times. Once the five years of hormonal treatment ended, I could get back to it, begin to finish it, and lo and behold once it was all behind me , I was. , like, oh, yes, I’m proud to be a cancer survivor. I had talked to my Dr. about it prior to ending treatment, and even he could not cheer me up. He said, “You loathe being a cancer survivor.” I suppose in my unconscious, it made me feel a tiny bit guilty.
    But then when it was finished, I immediately had to have another surgery, where I have to have special diets, lost a ton of weight, and was in more pain than than I think I ever had. I put down the first manuscript again! But I outlined two more, and have an idea for a third that I haven’t dug into yet.
    So why do I tell you this? because I went from 48 to 55. if I hadn’t been preoccupied by my writing, I don’t know how I would have gotten through it. In fact I still ask my self where those years went, but I know there was accomplishment and purpose. My dear husband had become a crutch for my illnesses. But now, I could, and still do, entertain him with my story ideas and with my heartfelt poems that I write, and he loves it, and gives me honest feedback. Also I like to entertain my mother in law with love poems and songs( yes, songs!) about her son. I have a much different life than if I’d just kept chugging along, going to work, playing with the pets.
    I have you partly to thank for this, along with my Drs and family. I met my husband at 35. Life has gotten so much better, actually it’s better than ever. I appreciate everything. You might think this is funny, but retirement’s around the corner. And I still don’t know how I got here!!:)

    • K.M. Weiland | @KMWeiland says

      This is such a great story. I knew bits and pieces from what you shared on Twitter, but I’m deeply inspired to hear how writing pulled you through during your difficult years.

  23. Hi! I’m Staci Ana’s younger sister that she called little. Yeah, I guess she inspired me to write my own story but… Okay, I’ll be completely honest, yes she did. She’s one of my biggest role models. I’m also one of her BIGGEST fans (and probably the only one so far). I wonder why she hasn’t given me anymore chapters…
    And she’ll probably look at this comment and say, “AHHHH!! She commented??”. Anyway, I just wanted to say thank you, Katie, because your blog/website has helped my sister a lot with her writing (its gotten a lot better since she follows your blog and podcasts).
    And please keep on posting more helping tips because it helps her a lot!
    PS. I love you, Staci. Don’t get mad at me if you see this comment!

    • K.M. Weiland | @KMWeiland says

      Haha. This made me smile. 🙂 Welcome, Vicky!

      • 🙂

        • Staci Ana says

          AHHHH! She commented??

          Sorry, I just had to get that out of my system. Ahem. Now back to my serious self.

          Thanks, Vicky. I’m glad to know that you consider me your role model. (I’ve known you for my whole life –you don’t think I know that?)

          Don’t worry. I’m not mad at you. You do know that you can talk to me any time since we live in the same house… right?? And you only have to turn around on your chair to see what I’m doing on the computer. XD Oh well. Little sisters…

          Just kidding. I’m glad that you found this website -it’s awesome! I love you and wish you the best on your writing journey(s), if only you could focus on ONE project at a time… XD

          K.M., it made me smile too, along with my jaw dropping wide open. I did not see this coming…

  24. I’m in the second act, but I still have the first act yearning for transformation, especially now that my children are in college and I’m experiencing a transformation in our household. Things are changing all the time. I feel like I’m at a serious crossroads for the first time since my early 20s. I think it’s something to pay attention to in each age – where our crossroad moments are.

    • K.M. Weiland | @KMWeiland says

      Absolutely. Really well stated too. I’ve found that ages that end in 4 seem significant for me–14, 24, and 34 were all watershed years. I’m definitely turned in to see what 44 will bring!

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