Recovery Writing Challenge

Last Day of #1000wordsofsummer & Planning a Challenge

Progression

1. 19,217 words of brand new draft in 14 full chapters

2. 7,879 words of outline covering 23 total chapters

3. The realization that this book wants to be born this summer, no matter what my joints think about it

I don’t know what I expected from #1000wordsofsummer. Maybe a few rushed scenes, a character breakthrough, some deadline-adjacent panic? But what I got was the beginning of a real story. It’s messy, gorgeous, half-feral and the momentum to keep going.

I really like the word feral lately…anywho?!

Of course, life had other ideas. Because now, in a thrilling act of “plot twist meets orthopedic drama,” I’m prepping for knee replacement surgery. And not the metaphorical kind. The real-deal, titanium-in-your-body, sling-me-onto-a-mobility-scooter kind. Cue the existential dread…

Keep the Words Moving

I’ve been building this fragile writing rhythm, a rhythm that feels miraculous, hard won, and healing. And now that surgery’s about to dropkick my summer schedule, I’m asking myself:

• Can I keep the writing going through recovery?

• Can I hold the thread of the novel while horizontal, loopy on meds, and possibly yelling at physical therapists

• Can I stay connected to my writer self when everything else feels wildly out of control?

…Maybe, and I’m going to try.

The Recovery Writing Challenge

(June 13 – August 31)

This isn’t about pressure. It’s about staying in relationship with the work lovingly, forgivingly, and with ice.

Objectives:

• Keep my novel breathing: Write something, anything, 5 days a week

• Post to Substack 3x a week, even if it’s just a note from the fog

• Reassess mid July and mid August based on healing, mental capacity, and mood swings

• Treat writing like my favorite kind of rehab: gentle, grounding, and occasionally swear laced

What Counts as Writing? Almost everything:

Options: Drafting or revising scenes, character sketches, dialogue snippets jotted on napkins or notebooks, Substack essays or short updates, world building, structure fixing, long rants to future me in my journal, and even thinking about the book while icing my knee

Extras: Sharing sneak peeks on here and social media, sketching little story vextrels, dreaming up cover concepts I’ll immediately discard, and group texting my characters like they owe me rent

Why?

• Because losing momentum can feel like losing access to yourself.

• Because I don’t want to disappear into the pain and logistics and pale hospital gowns.

• Because I can’t afford to believe that a “break” means “back to zero.”

• Because the story doesn’t need me to be fast, it just needs me to stay in touch. Even if that means whispering a few words from bed. Even if that means whispering them into a recorder with macaroni in my mouth.

Want to Join Me

Got a book, a blog, a brain that wants to keep working even when your body’s in recovery, or revolt, or just on summer slow-mode? Make your own Recovery Writing Challenge. Make it scrappy. Make it flexible. Make it yours. And let me know, I’d love to cheer you on, and misquote random writers with you when the medicine hits weird.

Want to get my chaotic summer dispatches?

Subscribe below. I’ll be reporting in at least three times a week with:

• writing wins and weirds

• recovery honesty

• novel snippets

• rogue thoughts from the ice pack zone