Recently, I had to admit a hard truth to myself: I'm burned out.
If you know me, you know how stubborn I can be when it comes to admitting something like that. Even as I found myself drowning in deadlines and pushing to wrap up our latest publication at work, I didn’t want to say the words out loud. But eventually, when I was talking to one of the very few people I trust enough to confess these kinds of things to, they hit me with a deceptively simple question:
"What do you do for fun?"
What a question.
Ten years ago, the answer was easy: I played MMOs, roleplayed online, and loved to write. These days? MMOs have lost their shine. The roleplay communities I used to enjoy now seem mostly focused on in-game club scenes and passive dancing. And writing—my reliable creative outlet—has become, well, work.
So what was fun now?
I sat with that question a lot longer than I expected to. If you know me, you’ll be shocked to hear I overthought it (I know—stunning). But as I picked at the question over days, I found myself wanting something totally outside the realm of what I typically do. Something unrelated to writing, publishing, editing, or staring at a screen.
Enter: juggling.
Yes, juggling. Not just the traditional kind, but also contact juggling (the smooth, mesmerizing style made famous in Labyrinth) and poi (which involves spinning tethered weights in rhythmic patterns—sometimes with fire!). It’s something I had always been curious about. I’d seen a fire poi performance years ago that I found incredibly calming. I’d admired the hypnotic elegance of contact juggling and the seemingly simple skill of tossing balls in the air. Plus, every juggler I’ve met always seemed laid-back and good-natured—traits I wouldn’t mind absorbing through osmosis.
I’m only one week into learning, but it’s already messing with my brain in the best ways. Trying to get my body to perform two separate movements simultaneously with poi has me doing serious mental gymnastics (and, yes, getting hit in the face a few times). Regular juggling forces me to slow down and truly master one motion before I rush ahead to the next. And contact juggling? Well, let’s just say buying a metal ball for your first attempt isn’t ideal. That sucker is heavy. I’ve already ordered a lighter one to save my wrists and floor.
Am I having fun?
Surprisingly, yes. Despite the dropped balls, forehead bruises, and occasional puppy theft (our new dog has taken a liking to chasing the ones I drop), I’m enjoying the process. Because it is a process. It’s self-directed learning. It’s trial and error. It’s challenging in a way that doesn’t feel like pressure—it feels like play.
And honestly, I think that act—maybe not juggling specifically, but stepping outside of your norm—is something more writers and creatives should explore.
In my day job, I’m lucky to work with an incredible interior art team. One of the things I admire most about them is how often they challenge themselves to try something new. One week, someone’s experimenting with digital brushes they’ve never used before. Another week, someone else is breaking down a new coloring approach. There’s always motion and growth in what they do.
Writers can do that, too.
Yet we often don’t. Many of us get stuck in the loop of the familiar: the outline we always follow, the same go-to character types, the voice we’ve trained ourselves into using. And hey—there’s nothing wrong with having a process. But sometimes, to keep our minds flexible and our creativity sharp, we need to stretch in a new direction.
Here are a few ways writers (and creatives in general) can try something new to spark their creativity and reset their thinking:
1. Try a Physical Skill (That Has Nothing to Do with Writing)
Pick something totally unrelated to your work—juggling, knitting, tai chi, gardening. Engaging your body in a new way activates parts of your brain that lie dormant when you're seated at a keyboard. Plus, struggling to learn something humbling (like keeping three balls airborne) can make you a more patient, flexible storyteller.
2. Write in a New Format
Are you a novelist? Try writing a comic script or screenplay. Used to short stories? Try writing a blog post, or better yet, flash fiction under 500 words. Changing format forces you to focus on different elements: pacing, layout, scene economy, or dialogue-heavy storytelling.
3. Do the Opposite of What You Usually Do
If you usually write in first person, try third. If you always plot heavily, pants something and see what happens. If you love lyrical prose, write something brutally spare. It's not about finding a new "home"—it's about learning what your creative muscles can do.
4. Take a Class or Follow a YouTube Series on a Weird Skill
There’s something exhilarating about being a beginner. It puts you back in touch with curiosity. Take a class on improv, pottery, fencing, fire dancing—whatever catches your eye. Let yourself be a novice again.
5. Collaborate With a Creative Outside Your Medium
Team up with a musician, painter, dancer, or game designer. Their approach to storytelling and structure will likely be different from yours—and seeing your work through their lens may open up ideas you never would've had alone.
6. Freewrite with Constraints
Write a scene where no one can speak. Or a story in only questions. Or a love letter from a toaster. Constraint breeds creativity. When you remove the easy answers, your brain finds inventive solutions.
7. Read Something Wildly Out of Your Comfort Zone
If you’re a fantasy reader, pick up a book on quantum physics or 19th-century medicine. If you love romance, read a dense political thriller. Exposure to unfamiliar concepts, vocabulary, and story rhythms shakes up your internal creative rhythm.
8. Change Your Environment
Try writing somewhere new: a café, a park, a hotel lobby, even just a different chair in your house. If you're used to silence, try music. If you always write at night, try sunrise. These small changes can have big impacts on your creative flow.
9. Play a Game That Requires Strategic or Lateral Thinking
Puzzle games, escape rooms, board games like Codenames or Dixit—these exercise different parts of your brain, often pulling on logic, metaphor, or association. All useful tools for crafting stories.
10. Do Something Badly… On Purpose
Give yourself permission to write a terrible poem, paint an ugly picture, or film a goofy one-minute video. Removing the pressure of perfection lets you rediscover joy in the act of creation.
Change it up
When I started juggling, I didn’t know what I’d get out of it. I just knew I needed something—a new neural pathway, a change in perspective, a reason to laugh when I dropped something (again). But now, a week in, I can already feel it. Not just in the small physical improvements, but in my thinking. I’m more curious. Less stressed. More open to messing up. And honestly? That’s a great mindset to be in when facing a blank page.
So here’s my challenge to you, fellow writer: Try something new. Not to monetize it. Not to get better at writing. Just for fun. Just to see what it does to your brain.
Because the spark you’re looking for might not be in the next book. It might be hiding in three juggling balls and a ceiling fan that’s a little too close.
Excellent article, as always.
I discovered the benefits of writing within constraints early on in my writing self-education. It was while thinking about a story I was working on that I realized the lack of constraints I had allowed myself for the main character made the story no fun. He was essentially omnipotent and any corner I boxed him into he had the power to escape. Dirty Harry says a man's got to know his limitations. Well, writers have to know their character's limitations, and for similar reasons.
Good luck with the juggling. Let me know if you're going to join a circus that might be passing through town 😁