Help! I forgot how to write
What happens when structure eats creativity
I’ve had one repeating thought since I decided to reboot this Substack after ignoring it for so long:
I fear I’ve forgotten how to actually write.
I’m sitting in front of a blank screen, watching the cursor blink back at me and I have very little clue where to go next.
Do I talk about learning journalism and AP style in college?
Do I talk about discovering blogging and my hyperfixation with online writing structures?
Do I talk about my freelancing career and the dozens upon dozens of SEO articles I’ve written for clients?
Do I talk about the fact that I recently started attempting to write a novel, and immediately realized writing fiction is wayyy outside my wheelhouse?
Let’s start with the third point: freelancing.
I’ve worked with dozens of clients at this point. Some of the most notable have been in the tech & SaaS space. My biggest ever client was an identity protection software company who I worked with for nearly 2 years and who paid me thousands of dollars to write SEO articles throughout our working relationship.
I learned a lot from this partnership, including how to:
Break down complex topics in ways that are easy to understand
Write in a way that both humans and search engines like
Format pieces logically to pack in as much value as possible
But at the end of the day… all of those pieces were born from a single SEO keyword, built into a detailed outline that someone else created (with zero room for creative exploration), and positioned to get people to click — and ultimately buy — the company’s software.
So okay, I know I haven’t *actually* forgotten how to write. I’m literally doing it right now. And I’m not half bad at it!
But it feels like I’ve spent so much time writing things optimized for algorithms and conversions that I’ve lost the art of thoughtful storytelling.
Simply letting words flow, and then shaping those words into something semi-good, feels incredibly daunting to me.
It doesn’t help that SEO content relies on formulaic, easy-to-digest writing. Because that’s wHaT’s HeLpFuL tO tHe ReAdEr.
When you’re in the marketing world for so long, it’s almost like your writing brain becomes altered in a way.
But there are sooo many other ways to write without focusing solely on optimization.
You mean to tell me people are out here writing essays WITHOUT breaking every single train of thought into an H2?
You mean people actually put real thought into their titles — not just use whatever miss Google will like?
Yep, people write just to write! Not just to get clicks from Google or to get people to click a CTA.
I’ve grown so used to writing in simple language with a predictable structure, and I fear it’s made my writing... complacent.
The truth is, I’m not used to working from a blank page. Pretty much everything I do — blog posts, client work, even emails — starts with an outline and exists to market something (whether it’s for myself or clients).
The blank page scares me.
I want to be the girl who writes poetic essays about life, love, and nature. The one who eloquently stitches together thoughts on the state of the world and the society we live in.
But I’m just the girl who writes blog posts (with an outline and pre-chosen keywords).
To be fair, I love the writing that I do. I find it genuinely fun and I always strive to make it as good as I can.
And, humbly, I happen to believe I’m pretty good at it. I can whip up an email newsletter on almost any topic. I can SEO till the cows come home and actually rank on Google.
But sometimes, it just feels so… formulaic. Stiff. Overly structured.
Inauthentic, in a way — not because I’m “faking” or being untrue to myself — but because I’m always working in the same exact parameters, where everything’s pre-planned and every piece has a specific end goal.
I literally think of everything writing-related in blog post format. SEO-optimized title, short intro, H2s, H3s, conclusion. Wham, bam, thank you ma’am.
That structure has shaped the way I write and consider ideas. And as a result, I now feel boxed in skill-wise.
Like, I know I’m capable of more… but I feel STUCK.
What really brought this to the surface recently was when I started trying to write a novel.
I’m not trying to be the next Hemingway or anything. I just wanna write a cute, feel-good romance novel. Still, I realized pretty quickly that I’m totally outside of my abilities.
I’m so used to writing in H2s and H3s that I keep wanting to add a scene break every few paragraphs.
And don’t even get me started on paragraphs. On the internet, “paragraphs” are often just 1–2 sentences long.
How do you even write actual paragraphs?!?
For someone who’s been writing in some capacity since elementary school, that should not be a sentence I’m typing. And yet… here we are. Ha ha.
And here’s the part where I clumsily end this article, where generally I’d write a blog-style conclusion.
But this doesn’t really lend to a good blog-style outro, and I’m not gonna try to get you to click some CTA... so?
If there’s any real point of this piece, it’s to urge you not to let yourself get too boxed in to one specific writing type or format. Don’t let your skills stagnate.
Because one day, you’ll wake up and get the urge to share something else — something outside of your typical thing — and you’ll realize you built a creative cage you don’t know how to climb out of.