In summers past, I’ve written in carlines while waiting to pick kids up from camp. I’ve written in clinic waiting rooms between my parents’ doctors’ appointments. And, if I’m being honest, I’ve written on the beach during family vacations.
When I was a full-time faculty member, I often felt like I held my breath for summer. That would be the season when time would finally expand. That would be when I’d finish the revise-and-resubmit, start working through a new archive, or make meaningful progress on a project that had been waiting all year.
It would also be the time when I’d spend more time with my family, rest, travel, catch up on household tasks, and do all the things that didn’t fit into the academic year.
The problem was that I needed summer to hold the space that was already impossible during the rest of the year.
For years, I didn’t have language for what was happening. I only knew that most summers began with hope and often ended with frustration. Despite having more flexibility, I still struggled to write in the ways I imagined I would.
Eventually, I found myself asking the same question over and over:
Why am I still struggling to write this summer?
At first, I assumed the answer was simple. I needed more discipline. Better habits. More hours. But over time, I began to realize the problem was more complicated than that.
I have a clear memory of dragging books and articles on vacation one summer. It was our family’s first trip to the beach in quite some time, and I carried a tote bag full not of snacks and beach reads, but books on the philosophy of language and the history of rhetoric. I was probably the only person on the beach with that reading list.
Looking back, I realize I couldn’t let go of the hope that summer would somehow create the conditions I’d been missing all year. If I just had enough time, enough space, enough uninterrupted hours, then everything would finally fall into place.
But life rarely works that way.
As a caregiver, my schedule often shifted despite the best of intentions. As my parents’ needs changed and my children’s schedules evolved, the plans I made for writing frequently had to change as well. Sometimes I was left without the time, energy, or resources I thought I would have. I also had to be honest with myself about something else: my capacity for creativity and sustained focus often diminished when I was carrying significant stress.
Even in those seasons, I clung to my writing. I wished for more time. I wished for deeper focus. I wished for a community of people who understood why summer writing could feel so challenging.
What I eventually learned is that writing doesn’t thrive simply because more hours appear on the calendar. Writing thrives when we have support, realistic expectations, and ways of working with the life we actually have.
As a former writing studies professor, if there’s one thing I know to be true, it’s that writing needs support. Writing is not something that simply happens. Each of us has a writing process that is uniquely our own, and paying attention to that process can be difficult when life feels chaotic.
When we’re under pressure, we often want to focus only on the outcome. We want to finish the article. We want to submit the job materials. We want the dissertation chapter completed. It’s important to name when those goals are present and necessary. It’s also important to name the pressure.
Yet research in writing studies has long shown that paying attention to our writing process—especially during difficult seasons—can actually help us write more effectively. When we understand what supports our work, what creates obstacles, and what helps us return to the page, we become better equipped to move forward.
I didn’t always have the inclination or support to slow down and examine my writing process. But when I did, through mentors, coaches, writing groups, and trusted colleagues, I almost always found my way back to the work.
Those experiences are the impetus for my summer offering, Write with Care.
If you feel like you should be writing more this summer and want to write more, but it feels difficult, this program was created with you in mind.
This isn’t a one-size-fits-all productivity plan. I don’t believe such a thing exists. We all write differently, and our lives are far too complex for a single formula to work for everyone.
What I do believe, based on both research and experience, is that there are practical ways to discover what supports your writing and to build sustainable practices that fit your life.
This program may be a good fit if you want to make time for writing this summer, support your writing in a sustainable way, learn more about how you write in the midst of a complicated life, and develop strategies for navigating writing obstacles.
From June 22 through July 13, you’ll receive a weekly email that includes a reflection on the week’s theme, writing prompts designed to help you better understand your writing process and make meaningful progress on your project, and resources I’ve curated to support both your writing and your wellbeing.
You’ll also have access to optional online writing sessions where you can write in community, set intentions, and return to your work alongside others. Attend one session, all of them, or as many as your schedule allows.
In addition, you’ll receive a 45-minute individual writing consultation with me. This session can be used to discuss a project, work through a challenge, receive feedback, or identify next steps for your writing.
Throughout the program, you’ll have flexibility to engage in ways that fit your life while also receiving structure, encouragement, and support.
There are sliding scale and scholarship options for registration.
Please feel free to email with questions.
Whether or not this program is the right fit for you, I’d like to leave you with two prompts to consider as you think about your writing this summer.
What Are You Asking Summer to Hold?
Make a list of everything you’re hoping summer will contain: writing projects, caregiving responsibilities, family activities, travel, rest, unfinished tasks, personal goals, and anything else that feels important.
As you look at the list, what expectations feel realistic? Which expectations might need to be revised, released, or approached differently?
What Support Does Your Writing Need?
Think about a time when writing felt possible, even if life was busy.
What helped? Was it accountability? A writing group? A mentor? Dedicated time? Encouragement? Flexibility?
List three forms of support that would help you write this summer. Which one could you begin putting in place this week?If you’d like support exploring these questions and creating a sustainable writing practice this summer, I’d love to have you join us in Write with Care.
Full Circle Writing, LLC 
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