365 Days of writing, 2026 – My second novel 2

More about writing that second novel

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The Weight of Expectation: Essentials to Initiate the Second Novel After the Euphoria of the First

Abstract
The transition from debut to second novel represents a critical juncture in a writer’s career. While the first novel is often born of unbridled passion and unexamined confidence, the second novel is typically forged under the weight of expectation, industry scrutiny, and personal doubt. This paper explores the psychological, practical, and professional essentials required to successfully initiate and sustain the second novel writing process. Drawing upon literary theory, authorial testimonies, cognitive psychology, and publishing industry research, I identify four core pillars—re-establishing creative autonomy, managing external expectations, leveraging narrative momentum, and redefining success—that are crucial for initiating the second project. This analysis offers a framework for writers navigating what is often a disorienting and emotionally taxing phase of their artistic development.

Keywords: second novel syndrome, authorial identity, creative process, writer’s block, literary career development, narrative continuity, authorial expectations

1. Introduction

The publication of a first novel is frequently described as a transformative milestone in a writer’s life—a culmination of years of labour, isolation, and aspiration. The emotional landscape accompanying this achievement is one of euphoria, validation, and often, a sense of arrival into the literary world. However, this high tide is frequently followed by a receding wave: the daunting prospect of beginning again. While the debut novel may emerge from a raw, unfiltered impulse sustained by dreams and obsessions, the second novel is frequently obstructed by the sediment of success: expectation, self-scrutiny, and the pressure to prove that the first work was not a fluke.

This paper investigates the essential conditions required to initiate the second novel once the initial euphoria of the debut has subsided. Grounded in both empirical research and anecdotal evidence from published authors, it proposes a structured approach for writers to re-engage with their creative practice. The transition from first to second novel is not merely a technical challenge but an existential and psychological passage. Thus, the essentials to begin again are multifaceted, requiring the writer to reconstruct identity, reframe success, and rekindle narrative desire.

2. The Psychological Burden of the Second Novel

The phenomenon colloquially termed “second novel syndrome” refers to the creative paralysis that afflicts many authors after the debut’s release. Research in cognitive psychology suggests that success, while gratifying, can disrupt intrinsic motivation—the internal drive that fuels sustained creative work (Amabile, 1996). According to Deci and Ryan’s Self-Determination Theory, intrinsic motivation is fueled by autonomy, competence, and relatedness. The debut novel often satisfies these needs through unstructured exploration. However, post-publication, these same needs may be compromised.

2.1 The Erosion of Creative Autonomy

Following publication, authors frequently report a diminished sense of creative autonomy. External agents—publishers, agents, critics, and readers—enter the writer’s internal sphere, shaping expectations about genre, style, and thematic continuity. A study conducted by the Authors Guild (2020) found that 68% of debut novelists felt increased pressure to replicate the success of their first book, with many confessing to self-censorship out of fear of disappointing stakeholders.

The shift from writing for oneself to writing for an audience introduces what Csikszentmihalyi (1996) identifies as “inner conflict” in the creative process. When the writer becomes simultaneously the producer and the critic of their work—monitoring every choice for market receptivity—the flow state essential to sustained storytelling may dissipate.

2.2 The Crisis of Authorial Identity

With the debut, the individual is anointed “a novelist.” This new identity, though celebrated, can be burdensome. As Bakhtin (1981) noted, authorship is not a monolithic self but a dialogic process shaped by internal and external voices. The debut may have been written under the guise of anonymity or obscurity, but the second is written within the shadow of recognition. The author must now negotiate who they are as a writer: Are they the voice of the first novel? The voice the industry expects? Or someone still evolving?

This crisis of identity often leads to creative hesitation. As Zadie Smith observes in her essay “Fail Better” (2012), “You’ve never had a harder job than when it’s time to write the second book. You have a whole world of expectations now, including your own.” The writer’s internal critic, once manageable, now speaks with multiple voices—those of agents, reviewers, fans—amplifying self-doubt.

3. The Four Essentials to Initiate the Second Novel

While the challenges are significant, they are not insurmountable. Based on interviews with published authors and analysis of successful second novels, this paper identifies four essential components that facilitate the initiation and progress of the second project.

3.1 Re-establishing Creative Autonomy

The first essential is the reclamation of creative agency. This requires deliberate separation from external pressures and a return to the writer’s intrinsic motivation. Several authors achieve this by adopting a “draft zero” mentality—a private, exploratory draft exempt from review or evaluation.

Haruki Murakami, known for his disciplined writing routine, describes writing his second novel in a similar way to the first: alone, in silence, with no public announcements or deadlines imposed. This isolation allows the writer to experiment freely, without concern for reception. Establishing a private writing space—physical or mental—recreates the conditions that allowed the debut to flourish.

Additionally, writers may benefit from shifting their relationship with time. Rather than setting outcome-driven goals (“finish the novel by X date”), process-oriented goals (“write 500 words daily, without judgment”) support autonomy and mitigate pressure. In this way, the act of writing itself becomes the reward, not the publication.

3.2 Managing External Expectations

Expectations—both explicit and implied—are inevitable. The second essential, therefore, is not the elimination of expectations but their strategic management.

Writers must cultivate what Brené Brown (2010) calls “boundaries of belonging” in creative work. This includes clear communication with agents and publishers about creative intent, as well as emotional detachment from early reviews or sales figures. Several authors, such as Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, have spoken candidly about refusing to read reviews during the writing of their second books to preserve mental space.

Moreover, authors should acknowledge that audience expectations are mutable. Literary markets evolve, and readers often welcome growth and experimentation. The second novel need not be a retread of the first. Toni Morrison’s second novel, Sula, diverged significantly from the domestic realism of The Bluest Eye, embracing a more mythic, nonlinear structure. Its success demonstrates that risk, when grounded in artistic integrity, can be rewarded.

3.3 Leveraging Narrative Momentum

The third essential is the strategic use of narrative momentum—using insights from the first novel to inform, but not dictate, the second.

Many writers experience a disconnect between their debut and subsequent work, fearing that the magic of the first was unrepeatable. However, the process of completing a novel provides invaluable narrative intelligence: knowledge of structure, voice, pacing, and revision. This “tacit knowledge” (Polanyi, 1966) forms a foundation upon which the second work can be built.

Authors may harness this momentum by identifying the core thematic or emotional engine of their first novel and exploring its inverse or expansion. For instance, if the debut centred on loss, the second might explore forgiveness. If it was rooted in realism, the second could embrace fabulism. This continuity of inquiry—what novelist Rachel Cusk calls “the pursuit of a single question across books”—provides coherence without constriction.

Additionally, repurposing unused material from the debut’s drafts or notebooks can ignite the second project. Many authors discover that secondary characters or peripheral settings from the first novel contain underdeveloped potential. These fragments can serve as seeds for new narratives, easing the anxiety of beginning from nothing.

3.4 Redefining Success

The fourth essential is a recalibration of the writer’s definition of success. The debut is often judged by external metrics: acquisition, reviews, awards, sales. However, these benchmarks are insufficient for sustaining the writing process, particularly when embarking on the second novel.

Redefining success in terms of process—the consistency of practice, the honesty of expression, the courage to experiment—builds resilience. As poet Mary Oliver writes, “Instructions for living a life: Pay attention. Be astonished. Tell about it.” This ethos redirects focus from outcome to observation and expression.

Furthermore, embracing the possibility of failure is critical. Samuel Beckett’s famous dictum—“Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try again. Fail again. Fail better.”—encapsulates the mindset required. The second novel may not achieve the same reception as the first, but it may possess greater artistic maturity. Writers who view their careers as an evolving body of work, rather than a series of isolated products, are more likely to persevere.

4. Case Studies: Lessons from Established Authors

4.1 Zadie Smith
Smith’s debut, White Teeth (2000), was a cultural phenomenon. Her second novel, The Autograph Man (2002), received more polarised reviews. In interviews, Smith admitted to feeling “crippled by expectation” and attempting to write something deliberately different, which led to mixed results. However, her subsequent novels (On Beauty, NW) reflect a more confident, personal voice. Smith’s trajectory illustrates that the second novel—however imperfect—is a necessary step in the maturation of voice.

4.2 Celeste Ng
Ng’s debut, Everything I Never Told You, was critically acclaimed. For her second novel, Little Fires Everywhere, she consciously returned to themes of family and identity but expanded her narrative scope. Ng credits a structured writing schedule and sustained research as key to initiating the second book. She also limited her engagement with social media and reviews during the writing process, preserving mental space.

4.3 Ocean Vuong
After the success of On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous, Vuong described entering a period of creative silence. He did not begin his second novel immediately, instead allowing himself time to “unlearn” the habits of the first. His approach emphasises patience and the acceptance of nonlinear productivity—redefining starting not as a singular event but as a gradual re-immersion.

5. Practical Recommendations for Writers

To initiate the second novel, writers should consider the following steps:

Create a “pre-draft” ritual: Freewrite, journal, or sketch characters without aiming for a formal narrative.
Establish a writing sanctuary: Designate a time and space free from digital distractions and external input.
Set process goals: Focus on consistent output (e.g., 30 minutes/day) rather than word count or chapter completion.
Engage in parallel reading: Study novels that challenge or inspire—especially those unlike the debut.
Seek peer support: Join a writing group composed of other mid-career authors who understand the transition.
Delay external sharing: Resist the urge to share early drafts with agents or editors until a full draft is complete.
Embrace imperfection: Grant permission for the second novel to be messy, exploratory, or even “bad” in early stages.

6. Conclusion

The initiation of the second novel is less about technical preparation and more about psychological reorientation. The euphoria of the first publication must give way to a more mature, deliberate creative practice—one grounded in resilience, self-awareness, and artistic integrity. While external pressures and internal doubts are inevitable, the essentials for beginning again lie in reclaiming autonomy, managing expectations, channelling narrative momentum, and redefining success on one’s own terms.

The second novel is not a repetition but a recommitment—to the craft, to the voice, and to the self as a writer. It is in this commitment that the writer transcends the anxiety of the aftermath and re-enters the fertile silence from which stories are born. As Virginia Woolf reminds us in A Room of One’s Own, “Literature is strewn with the wreckage of men who have minded beyond reason the opinions of others.” The writer of the second novel must, above all, learn to mind their own inner compass. In doing so, they do not merely survive the aftermath of success—they evolve beyond it.

References

Amabile, T. M. (1996). Creativity in Context. Westview Press.
Authors Guild. (2020). Survey of Published Authors. New York: Authors Guild.
Bakhtin, M. M. (1981). The Dialogic Imagination. University of Texas Press.
Brown, B. (2010). The Gifts of Imperfection. Hazelden.
Csikszentmihalyi, M. (1996). Creativity: Flow and the Psychology of Discovery and Invention. HarperCollins.
Deci, E. L., & Ryan, R. M. (1985). Intrinsic Motivation and Self-Determination in Human Behavior. Springer.
Oliver, M. (2004). Long Life: Essays and Other Writings. Da Capo Press.
Polanyi, M. (1966). The Tacit Dimension. University of Chicago Press.
Smith, Z. (2012). “Fail Better.” The New York Review of Books, 59(15).
Woolf, V. (1929). A Room of One’s Own. Hogarth Press.

(Note: Additional primary and secondary sources include interviews from The Paris Review, The Guardian, and literary podcasts such as “Otherppl with Brad Listi.”)

In a word: Prize

What you win, first prize in a raffle, though I don’t think I’ve ever won first prize. Second maybe. But, aren’t all raffles rigged?

But despite my unfortunate run of luck, a prize is generally give to someone who works hard, or wins a race

Or I could have been a prize fighter but lacked the size and the strength, and out of curiosity how many prize fighters didn’t win a prize?

And if I had been a pirate, I could have sailed the seven seas to find a prize, namely a ship to attack and take as my own.

And as a prime example, a Chelsea supporter walking into a bar full of Manchester United fans could be called a prize idiot.

This is not to be confused with the word prise

Don’t relatives prise the last dollar out of a dying man’s hand?

Or prise the truth out of a witness, or a perpetrator

Or prise a window open like thieves do when we forget to lock them properly?

365 Days of writing, 2026 – 9

Day 9 – Keeping a journal

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The Power of the Pen: Pros and Cons of Keeping a Writing Journal

As a writer, whether you’re crafting a novel, blogging, or penning poetry, progress doesn’t always follow a straight line. Inspiration strikes at midnight. Doubt creeps in between drafts. Momentum builds—then stalls. In the midst of this creative ebb and flow, one simple tool has stood the test of time: the writing journal.

More than just a logbook, a writing journal is a companion on your creative journey—a private space for tracking progress, reflecting on setbacks, and celebrating breakthroughs. But is it right for every writer? Let’s explore the pros and cons of keeping a journal dedicated to your writing practice.

The Pros of Keeping a Writing Journal

1. Tracks Progress and Builds Accountability

One of the most powerful benefits of a writing journal is its ability to record your journey. By noting daily word counts, completed chapters, or time spent writing, you create a tangible record of your progress.

This log can be incredibly motivating. Seeing that you’ve written 10,000 words in a month—especially on days when you feel stuck—reinforces that consistency matters, even when inspiration doesn’t.

Additionally, tracking goals helps hold you accountable. It’s one thing to say you’ll write every day; it’s another to see a calendar streak and not want to break it.

2. Encourages Reflection and Self-Awareness

A writing journal isn’t just for numbers—it’s a place for reflection. Questions like “What challenged me today?”, “What writing habit worked?”, or “What emotions surfaced during this scene?” invite introspection.

Over time, these reflections reveal patterns: certain times of day when you’re most productive, themes that recur in your work, or triggers that lead to writer’s block. This self-awareness can guide intentional changes to your process.

3. Provides a Creative Outlet Beyond Your Main Work

Sometimes, your main project doesn’t allow room for experimentation. A journal can serve as a playground—somewhere to jot down random ideas, metaphors, character sketches, or snippets of dialogue that don’t fit into your current manuscript.

This free-form creative space keeps your imagination limber and may even spark new projects.

4. Boosts Motivation During Droughts

There will be days—sometimes weeks—when writing feels like wading through mud. On those days, flipping through past journal entries can be a morale booster. Seeing what you’ve overcome before reminds you that this too shall pass.

Celebrating small wins in your journal—like finishing a tough scene or finally nailing a character arc—adds emotional momentum that keeps you going.

5. Improves Overall Writing Skills

Reflective writing strengthens your critical thinking and self-editing abilities. Analysing what worked (or didn’t) in a draft helps you develop a sharper editorial eye.

Plus, regularly writing about writing—describing your process, challenges, and breakthroughs—builds clarity in how you communicate ideas, which naturally spills over into your creative work.

The Cons of Keeping a Writing Journal

1. Time and Energy Drain

For some writers, the idea of maintaining a journal feels like an extra chore. After spending hours on a draft, the thought of then logging thoughts, progress, and reflections can feel exhausting.

If your writing already demands significant mental bandwidth, adding a journal may lead to burnout rather than inspiration.

2. Risk of Over-Tracking and Perfectionism

While tracking progress can be empowering, it can also backfire. Fixating on word count goals or consistency metrics may breed guilt when you fall short.

Some writers begin to equate productivity with worth, leading to stress or writer’s block. A journal meant to support your creativity can turn into a source of pressure.

3. Potential for Negative Spiral

Honest reflection is valuable, but it can veer into self-criticism. Without balance, a journal might become a catalogue of failures: “Wrote nothing today,” “This scene is terrible,” “I’ll never finish.”

If not managed with compassion, this negativity can erode confidence and motivation.

4. Not a One-Size-Fits-All Solution

Every writer’s process is unique. While some thrive with structure and daily logs, others thrive in spontaneity. For free-flow writers who resist routine, a journal may feel too rigid or artificial.

Forcing yourself into a system that doesn’t align with your natural rhythm can hinder more than help.

5. Digital or Physical? The Management Question

Deciding how to keep your journal—notebook, bullet journal, digital document, app—adds another layer of complexity. Some find handwriting deeply reflective; others prefer searchable digital notes.

But juggling too many tools or platforms can lead to inconsistency. If your journal lives in three different places, it may get neglected altogether.

How to Make a Writing Journal Work for You

The key to a successful writing journal isn’t perfection—it’s sustainability. Here are a few tips:

Keep it simple. A few bullet points per day or weekly reflections are often enough.
Balance metrics with meaning. Record word counts, but also note emotional highs and creative insights.
Be kind to yourself. Use your journal to foster growth, not guilt.
Review regularly. Monthly or quarterly look-backs help you see progress and adjust goals.
Adapt as needed. Change your journal format when your needs evolve.

Final Thoughts

A writing journal is not a magic fix, but it can be a powerful ally. It offers clarity, accountability, and a mirror to your creative soul. Yet like any tool, its effectiveness depends on how you use it.

If it nurtures your passion and fuels your progress—wonderful. If it becomes a burden, it’s okay to set it aside, modify it, or try a different approach.

At its best, a writing journal isn’t about measuring output; it’s about honouring your journey. And in the unpredictable, often solitary world of writing, that kind of companionship is worth its weight in ink.

What about you? Do you keep a writing journal? Share your experiences, tips, or lessons learned in the comments below. Let’s learn from each other’s creative paths.

365 Days of writing, 2026 – 9

Day 9 – Keeping a journal

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The Power of the Pen: Pros and Cons of Keeping a Writing Journal

The Pros of Keeping a Writing Journal

1. Tracks Progress and Builds Accountability

Additionally, tracking goals helps hold you accountable. It’s one thing to say you’ll write every day; it’s another to see a calendar streak and not want to break it.

2. Encourages Reflection and Self-Awareness

3. Provides a Creative Outlet Beyond Your Main Work

This free-form creative space keeps your imagination limber and may even spark new projects.

4. Boosts Motivation During Droughts

Celebrating small wins in your journal—like finishing a tough scene or finally nailing a character arc—adds emotional momentum that keeps you going.

5. Improves Overall Writing Skills

Reflective writing strengthens your critical thinking and self-editing abilities. Analysing what worked (or didn’t) in a draft helps you develop a sharper editorial eye.

Plus, regularly writing about writing—describing your process, challenges, and breakthroughs—builds clarity in how you communicate ideas, which naturally spills over into your creative work.

The Cons of Keeping a Writing Journal

1. Time and Energy Drain

For some writers, the idea of maintaining a journal feels like an extra chore. After spending hours on a draft, the thought of then logging thoughts, progress, and reflections can feel exhausting.

If your writing already demands significant mental bandwidth, adding a journal may lead to burnout rather than inspiration.

2. Risk of Over-Tracking and Perfectionism

While tracking progress can be empowering, it can also backfire. Fixating on word count goals or consistency metrics may breed guilt when you fall short.

Some writers begin to equate productivity with worth, leading to stress or writer’s block. A journal meant to support your creativity can turn into a source of pressure.

3. Potential for Negative Spiral

If not managed with compassion, this negativity can erode confidence and motivation.

4. Not a One-Size-Fits-All Solution

Forcing yourself into a system that doesn’t align with your natural rhythm can hinder more than help.

5. Digital or Physical? The Management Question

But juggling too many tools or platforms can lead to inconsistency. If your journal lives in three different places, it may get neglected altogether.

How to Make a Writing Journal Work for You

The key to a successful writing journal isn’t perfection—it’s sustainability. Here are a few tips:

Keep it simple. A few bullet points per day or weekly reflections are often enough.
Balance metrics with meaning. Record word counts, but also note emotional highs and creative insights.
Be kind to yourself. Use your journal to foster growth, not guilt.
Review regularly. Monthly or quarterly look-backs help you see progress and adjust goals.
Adapt as needed. Change your journal format when your needs evolve.

Final Thoughts

If it nurtures your passion and fuels your progress—wonderful. If it becomes a burden, it’s okay to set it aside, modify it, or try a different approach.

What about you? Do you keep a writing journal? Share your experiences, tips, or lessons learned in the comments below. Let’s learn from each other’s creative paths.

365 Days of writing, 2026 – 8

Day 8 – How to improve your vocabulary

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No Textbooks, No Timetables: 5 Ways to Improve Your Vocabulary on the Fly

We’ve all been there. You’re in the middle of an important email, a compelling conversation, or a presentation, and suddenly, the perfect word is… just out of reach. It’s like a mental shimmer, a ghost on the tip of your tongue. You settle for a lesser word, and the moment passes.

In a busy world, who has time for flashcards, vocabulary lists, and scheduled study sessions? The good news is you don’t need them. Building a more powerful, precise, and impressive vocabulary isn’t about a massive time commitment. It’s about building smarter, faster habits into the life you’re already living.

Here are the five best ways to improve your vocabulary on the fly, turning everyday moments into learning opportunities.

1. Become a Context Detective

This is your number one, tool-free, anytime-anywhere superpower. When you stumble upon an unfamiliar word while reading an article, a report, or even a social media post, don’t skip over it. Pause and become a detective.

What it is: Using the surrounding words, phrases, and sentences to deduce the meaning of an unknown word.

Why it works: The brain is a pattern-matching machine. By analysing the context, you’re actively engaging with the new word rather than passively receiving it. This active effort forges a much stronger memory link than simply looking it up.

How to do it on the fly: Read the sentence before and after the word. Ask yourself: What’s the topic? Is the word being used to describe something positive, negative, large, or small? For example: “The politician’s speech was so turgid that most of the audience started checking their phones.”

Even if you’ve never seen “turgid,” you can infer it’s negative and probably means something like bloated, boring, or overly complex. Make a mental guess. This act of guessing primes your brain to remember the real meaning later.

2. Master the “Tap-and-Lookup” Rule

Being a context detective is great, but sometimes you need confirmation. This is where your smartphone becomes your best friend, not a distraction.

What it is: The immediate, reflexive action of looking up an unknown word the moment you encounter it.

Why it works: Momentum is everything. If you wait, you’ll forget. By looking it up within seconds, you connect the word directly to its context and your initial guess. This creates a complete learning package in under ten seconds.

How to do it on the fly: Keep a dictionary app (like Merriam-Webster or Dictionary.com) on your phone’s home screen. When you read a word you don’t know—whether in an email, an ebook, or a news article—literally tap and look it up right then. Read the definition, and then go back and reread the sentence with your new understanding. The “aha!” moment is instant.

3. Eavesdrop Like a Writer (or an Active Listener)

Your ears are vocabulary-building goldmines, especially in our world of podcasts, audiobooks, and YouTube videos. But you have to listen with intent.

What it is: Tuning into the language used in podcasts, interviews, and conversations to actively identify and absorb new words.

Why it works: Hearing a word used correctly—with its proper pronunciation and emotional tone—teaches you how to wield it yourself. It’s a more dynamic and memorable way to learn than just seeing it on a page.

How to do it on the fly: On your commute, during a workout, or while doing chores, replace mindless scrolling with a high-quality podcast or an audiobook on a topic you enjoy. When you hear a word that piques your interest, make a mental note (or use a voice memo to say, “Look up ‘ubiquitous'”). Later, when you can, do a quick lookup. You’ll be amazed at how often that word will pop up again now that you’re aware of it.

4. Play the Synonym Game

Improving your vocabulary isn’t just about learning new words; it’s about finding better ones for the words you already use. This is a quick exercise you can do while writing or even speaking.

What it is: Actively swapping a simple, common word for a more precise or powerful alternative.

Why it works: This method directly applies new knowledge to your communication, making it instantly practical. It trains your brain to reach for more descriptive language, moving your vocabulary from passive knowledge to an active skill.

How to do it on the fly: As you write an email or a message, identify the most basic verbs or adjectives. “We need a good plan.” Now, open a thesaurus (most word processors have one built-in, or you can use a site like Thesaurus.com). Is the plan robust, strategic, comprehensive, or ingenious? Swapping “good” for a more specific word elevates your entire sentence. Do this for just one word per email, and it’ll soon become second nature.

5. The “Use It or Lose It” Challenge

This final tip is the glue that holds everything together. A word you learn but never use is a guest who never leaves the lobby—it doesn’t become part of the family.

What it is: Making a conscious effort to use a new word within 24 hours of learning it.

Why it works: The act of retrieval—pulling a word out of your memory and using it in context—is the single most effective way to commit it to long-term memory. It builds the neural pathway that makes the word accessible in the future.

How to do it on the fly: Let’s say you looked up “turgid” during your morning reading. Your challenge for the day is to use it. It can be in a work email (“Let’s avoid turgid explanations in the client deck”), a text to a friend (“That movie was so turgid”), or even just spoken aloud to yourself. It might feel a little forced at first, but that awkwardness is your brain working hard to integrate its new tool.

Your Brain’s New Toolkit

Improving your vocabulary doesn’t require a life overhaul. It’s about shifting from passive consumption to active engagement. By combining these five “on-the-fly” habits, you create a virtuous cycle:

You listen for a new word, use context to guess its meaning, look it up to confirm, swap it into your writing, and then use it in a conversation to seal the deal.

These are small actions, but taken consistently, they transform the way you communicate and think. So, which one will you try first? The next time you’re reading, give it a go. Your future, more articulate self will thank you for it.

365 Days of writing, 2026 – 8

Day 8 – How to improve your vocabulary

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No Textbooks, No Timetables: 5 Ways to Improve Your Vocabulary on the Fly

Here are the five best ways to improve your vocabulary on the fly, turning everyday moments into learning opportunities.

1. Become a Context Detective

What it is: Using the surrounding words, phrases, and sentences to deduce the meaning of an unknown word.

2. Master the “Tap-and-Lookup” Rule

Being a context detective is great, but sometimes you need confirmation. This is where your smartphone becomes your best friend, not a distraction.

What it is: The immediate, reflexive action of looking up an unknown word the moment you encounter it.

3. Eavesdrop Like a Writer (or an Active Listener)

Your ears are vocabulary-building goldmines, especially in our world of podcasts, audiobooks, and YouTube videos. But you have to listen with intent.

What it is: Tuning into the language used in podcasts, interviews, and conversations to actively identify and absorb new words.

4. Play the Synonym Game

Improving your vocabulary isn’t just about learning new words; it’s about finding better ones for the words you already use. This is a quick exercise you can do while writing or even speaking.

What it is: Actively swapping a simple, common word for a more precise or powerful alternative.

5. The “Use It or Lose It” Challenge

This final tip is the glue that holds everything together. A word you learn but never use is a guest who never leaves the lobby—it doesn’t become part of the family.

What it is: Making a conscious effort to use a new word within 24 hours of learning it.

Your Brain’s New Toolkit

You listen for a new word, use context to guess its meaning, look it up to confirm, swap it into your writing, and then use it in a conversation to seal the deal.

365 Days of writing, 2026 – 7

Day 7 – Dealing with contentious issues

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The Hot-Topic Tightrope: How to Take a Stand on Sensitive Issues Without Losing Your Following

You see it trending. A sensitive, divisive issue is lighting up social media, and a knot forms in your stomach. You have an opinion. A strong one. You feel a pull—a responsibility, even—to use your platform to say something.

But then the doubt creeps in. What if I say the wrong thing? What if half my followers unsubscribe overnight? What if I start a firestorm in my comments that I can’t control?

This is the modern public figure’s dilemma. You want to be authentic and engaged, but you fear the fallout. So, let’s get real about the question everyone is asking: Will taking a stand on a contentious issue cost you readers?

The uncomfortable answer is yes, it probably will. But that’s not the whole story.

The Inevitable (and Good) Loss of Readers

Here’s the thing about taking a stand on something that matters: it’s an act of clarification. You are drawing a line in the sand and saying, “This is what I believe in. This is what I stand for.”

The moment you do that, you create a filter. People who fundamentally disagree with your core values on that issue may indeed leave. They might unfollow, unsubscribe, or simply tune you out. And that’s okay.

In fact, it can be a good thing.

Chasing universal appeal is a recipe for being bland and forgettable. A smaller, deeply engaged audience that shares your values is infinitely more valuable than a massive list of passive followers who feel no real connection to you. The “readers” you lose were likely never your true community to begin with. They were just passers-by.

Think of it this way: you’re not losing followers; you’re refining your community. You’re attracting the people who will champion your work because they see themselves in it. You’re building a tribe, not just a crowd.

How to Avoid Problems: A 5-Step Strategic Framework

While losing some readers may be a natural consequence, starting an unnecessary war is not. You can engage with sensitive topics in a way that is thoughtful, constructive, and minimizes needless drama. The key is to be strategic, not reactive.

Before you hit “publish,” walk through this framework:

1. The ‘Why’ Check: Before You Post

Ask yourself a few critical, honest questions. Your motivation is everything.

Why do I need to say this? Is it to educate, to support a community, to share my unique perspective, or just to vent?
Am I adding value? Is what I’m about to say a new take, a personal story that illuminates the issue, or am I just echoing the noise?
Am I emotionally triggered? If you’re posting from a place of pure rage or fear, take a beat. A considered response is always more powerful than a knee-jerk reaction.

2. Know Your Audience and Your Brand

Context is king. A statement from a political commentator is expected; the same statement from a food blogger might seem jarring. This doesn’t mean you can’t speak out, but it does mean you should be aware of your audience’s expectations. Acknowledge the shift if you need to: “You know me for talking about baking, but today I need to talk about something else that’s on my heart…” This shows self-awareness and respects your audience.

3. Focus on Principles, Not Personalities

This is the golden rule of constructive debate. Frame your argument around your values and principles, not around attacking a person or group.

Instead of: “I can’t believe how ignorant Person X is!”
Try: “I believe in a world where everyone has access to healthcare. Here’s why that principle is so important to me.”

The first statement invites a fight. The second invites a conversation. It’s much harder to argue against someone’s deeply held principles than it is to hurl insults back and forth.

4. Embrace Nuance and Acknowledge Complexity

Few issues are truly black and white. Using absolutist, all-or-nothing language will immediately alienate people who might otherwise be receptive. Show that you’ve considered the complexity of the issue.

Phrases like:

“I know this is a complicated issue with many valid perspectives, but…”
“I’m still learning about this, but my current thinking is…”
“From my personal experience…”

These phrases don’t weaken your argument; they build credibility and show humility. They invite thoughtful discussion rather than a flame war.

5. Prepare for the Pushback (and Have a Plan)

Don’t post and run. Decide in advance how you’ll engage with the response.

Define the line: What constitutes a healthy debate versus harassment or hate speech? Have a clear comment policy in mind.
Decide your level of engagement: Will you reply to questions? Will you correct misinformation? Will you ignore trolls?
Protect your peace: It is 100% acceptable to block, mute, or delete abusive comments. Your platform is your home; you don’t have to entertain vandals.

Knowing your plan beforehand prevents you from being dragged into a draining, unproductive argument in the heat of the moment.

The Power of Knowing When Not to Speak

Finally, one of the most powerful skills you can develop is knowing when silence is the strongest statement. You do not have to comment on everything. Choosing not to speak is a valid and often wise strategic choice.

Consider staying silent if:

You are not deeply informed on the topic and would be adding noise rather than insight.
The issue doesn’t intersect with your expertise or lived experience, and your voice would end up centring yourself instead of amplifying those most affected.
You are not in the right headspace to engage constructively.

Your platform is a tool, not an obligation. Use it intentionally.

Walk the Tightrope with Confidence

Taking a stand as a public figure is a tightrope walk, but it doesn’t have to be a reckless one. Yes, you risk losing some followers, but in doing so, you gain something far more valuable: a clarified brand, a more loyal community, and the integrity that comes from speaking your truth.

The goal isn’t to keep everyone happy. It’s to build something meaningful around what you believe. Be thoughtful, be strategic, and be brave. Your right readers will be right there with you.

365 Days of writing, 2026 – 7

Day 7 – Dealing with contentious issues

…

The Hot-Topic Tightrope: How to Take a Stand on Sensitive Issues Without Losing Your Following

But then the doubt creeps in. What if I say the wrong thing? What if half my followers unsubscribe overnight? What if I start a firestorm in my comments that I can’t control?

The uncomfortable answer is yes, it probably will. But that’s not the whole story.

The Inevitable (and Good) Loss of Readers

In fact, it can be a good thing.

How to Avoid Problems: A 5-Step Strategic Framework

Before you hit “publish,” walk through this framework:

1. The ‘Why’ Check: Before You Post

Ask yourself a few critical, honest questions. Your motivation is everything.

Why do I need to say this? Is it to educate, to support a community, to share my unique perspective, or just to vent?
Am I adding value? Is what I’m about to say a new take, a personal story that illuminates the issue, or am I just echoing the noise?
Am I emotionally triggered? If you’re posting from a place of pure rage or fear, take a beat. A considered response is always more powerful than a knee-jerk reaction.

2. Know Your Audience and Your Brand

3. Focus on Principles, Not Personalities

This is the golden rule of constructive debate. Frame your argument around your values and principles, not around attacking a person or group.

Instead of: “I can’t believe how ignorant Person X is!”
Try: “I believe in a world where everyone has access to healthcare. Here’s why that principle is so important to me.”

The first statement invites a fight. The second invites a conversation. It’s much harder to argue against someone’s deeply held principles than it is to hurl insults back and forth.

4. Embrace Nuance and Acknowledge Complexity

Phrases like:

“I know this is a complicated issue with many valid perspectives, but…”
“I’m still learning about this, but my current thinking is…”
“From my personal experience…”

These phrases don’t weaken your argument; they build credibility and show humility. They invite thoughtful discussion rather than a flame war.

5. Prepare for the Pushback (and Have a Plan)

Don’t post and run. Decide in advance how you’ll engage with the response.

Define the line: What constitutes a healthy debate versus harassment or hate speech? Have a clear comment policy in mind.
Decide your level of engagement: Will you reply to questions? Will you correct misinformation? Will you ignore trolls?
Protect your peace: It is 100% acceptable to block, mute, or delete abusive comments. Your platform is your home; you don’t have to entertain vandals.

Knowing your plan beforehand prevents you from being dragged into a draining, unproductive argument in the heat of the moment.

The Power of Knowing When Not to Speak

Consider staying silent if:

You are not deeply informed on the topic and would be adding noise rather than insight.
The issue doesn’t intersect with your expertise or lived experience, and your voice would end up centring yourself instead of amplifying those most affected.
You are not in the right headspace to engage constructively.

Your platform is a tool, not an obligation. Use it intentionally.

Walk the Tightrope with Confidence

The goal isn’t to keep everyone happy. It’s to build something meaningful around what you believe. Be thoughtful, be strategic, and be brave. Your right readers will be right there with you.

365 Days of writing, 2026 – 6

Day 6 – Writing exercise

Writing exercise

You’ve got a habit of being in the wrong place, don’t you, Sam? But this time…

…

Everyone was busy.

The morning meeting, where the boss sat at the head of a long table, and the writing staff sat, waiting for either a bollocking or an assignment, had travelled along the usual path.

The boss was the typical editor, loud, opinionated, and acerbic. Very few could remember him being complimentary.

I sat at the end of the table, the opposite end, and as far away from him as I could get. He hated me more than any other.

I looked around.

Whether or not they liked their assignments or the request for a rewrite, it was hard to tell. No one wanted to be seen shirking.

Yes, he called it shirking if you were not pounding the keyboard, working on tomorrow’s news today.

And because he hated me, I was last, got the full-on death stare and then in those oily words dispensed with forced amiability, “Jacobs, you got the dead guy, what’s his name, Rickard, Richard…”

“Ricardo,” a mousey voice called out, his current ‘favourite’.

“That dead guy. A thousand scintillating words.”

Then the expansive glare around the table, “Well, what are you lot waiting for?”

Al, just up from me, muttered, under his breath, “A written invitation.” As he did in every meeting.

Another obituary. Another nobody that needed life breathed into the corpse.

A gopher dropped a file on my desk as he went past, not stopping. Not worth the five minutes of hell from the boss about wasting time on idle chatter.

A single page, a name, and an address. Several notes that highlighted a nothing life. Too young to have a life. Too young to die. Too young for scintillating words.

Cause of death? Heart failure.

His photo belied the notion that he had anything remotely wrong with his heart. Adonis himself would be jealous.

Coroner’s report? Heart failure, cause unknown.

Not obese, not too thin, none of the danger signs that he was heart attack material, I knew my way around a medical report and this one?

Something was not right. Was the boss testing me, see if I could see if there was anything more?

Of course, I’d been down this path before and come a cropper. No, the boss took anything I requested with a grain of salt.

“Just report the facts. Don’t embellish, don’t add your suspicions, ten times out of ten you’re going to be wrong.”

And infurioratingly he was right.

Which meant I had to get creative.
…

The name Freddie Ricardo brought up 100,000 plus hits on the search engine, but I found one entry that pointed to an Instagram page that loaded, then disappeared.

Like completely disappeared, returning a 404 error when I tried to reload it. Someone had deleted it just after I found it.

Why?

Who would care?

From the fleeting look I got of it, it was just a guy’s page that had photos of him and friends guzzling beer and either hunting, fishing or acting stupid.

Very unaccountant-like.

Next step, go to the address.

A suburban street, quiet, an old house, run down and in need of repair, garden overgrown. Two car wrecks in the front yard, and an antique car in the driveway.

I sat outside the house for an hour, not a creature stirred, not even a mouse. The car suggested someone was inside, but they didn’t look out the windows, and they didn’t turn any lights on.

At the end of the hour, I got out of the car and walked over to the front door. The fence was falling over, the gate off its hinges, held up by the weeds and growth around it.

The door had peeling paint, but the lock and handle were new. The verandah boards were rotting and in places broken. They creaked as I walked on them.

I knocked. No answer.

I checked the car in the driveway. A fine film of dust covered it, telling me it hadn’t moved in days, maybe a week.

One of the neighbours came out and looked over.

“Who are you?” It wasn’t a polite question.

“Does Freddie Ricardo live here?”

“Did. Who wants to know?”

“I’m from the newspaper, asked to do a small piece on him.”

“No need. He wouldn’t want it.”

“Anyone else live here?”

“His sister. She ain’t here at the moment. I’m keeping an eye on the place. Now, I suggest you leave.”

A sister. Rather a large omission in the briefing paper provided. Research was slipping.

“Fair enough.”

A last look, I went back to the car. I waited, but the neighbour didn’t leave his porch. When he reached for his cell phone, I left.

…

Before going back to the office, I went to the city administration building and met up with an acquaintance who got me a copy of the deed for the house.

It had belonged to the parents, then was handed down to the elder daughter, Bethany. There were only two of them, Bethany and Freddie. He didn’t have a stake in the house.

I ran Bethany’s name in the search engine, and it brought back a few thousand hits, the first with a picture of a brother and sister on the front porch.

The second was a photo of her in a gondola in Venice with a man, Italian perhaps. She didn’t look happy.

From what I could see, the brother and sister were not similar, so maybe step-siblings.

Bethany also had titles to three other houses in the city. Perhaps she lived at one of those addresses and let her little brother stay at the address I called on.

Another acquaintance looked up the car registrations, and for the other cars the siblings had, of which there were four, including one for Freddie.

It was not mentioned in the police report at the crime scene, nor was it at the house, so it might still be somewhere else.

I had another five pieces of paper to go with the photo of the victim and the coroner’s report. It didn’t amount to much.

…

I thought about inventing a thousand words and making him a traitor, but the boss would see through it.

The alternative wasn’t much better; tell him I had nothing, well, suspicions.

I knocked on the door, and he growled something unintelligible. Not a good day.

“What have you got?” He didn’t look up.

“Missing car, expensive. Job belies the income to have it. Looks belie the cause of death.”

“And you infer?”

“Drugs, using, selling. Has a sister in Italy, or not? Needs a deep dive.”

“Is that it?”

“Been to the house. Looks like a mess, but I checked the values. It’s a gold mine for someone.”

“No one home?”

“Not for a week.”

“Talk to your police friends, see if they’ve got a rap sheet. Police miss the car?”

“Not in their report, not where he died.”

He looked up. “Find it, find the sister, talk to the neighbours. Go.”

No third degree, so sarcasm, just barked orders. But I wasn’t going to count the chickens just yet.

…

3am was always the best time to surprise people. My father once said that the best time to get answers was when people were unprepared.

He had been a policeman and kicked doors in at or just before dawn. Disorientation, gear, terror at dawn. Worked a treat.

I wasn’t kicking the door in. I was visiting.

And hopefully the house was still empty.

The back window was unlocked and opened easily. I was able to get to the back because of a quirk in the planning of the estate. The house had a narrow walkway behind it, a public thoroughfare.

At 3 a.m., no one would be about.

I hope.

There wasn’t. The back fence was as bad as the front, with a gap wide enough to squeeze through. The back yard was worse than the front, three cars hidden by undergrowth.

Tripped once and crashed into a car. It hurt

It took a few minutes to get inside. It smelled badly of wet paper and damp. The floorboards creaked. Several pilot lights were giving off just enough light to see by, once my eyes adjusted.

Signs of recent habitation. Fast food wrappers, health drinks, cigarette butts, and beer cans. Half-eaten food with mould. A week, perhaps longer, since anyone was there.

Upstairs.

The reason for the bad smell.

A body, not the sister, but a woman.

No sign of a bag. Dead, checked while trying not to be sick, downstairs, found the bag, wallet, ID. Jessie Walker. This was the residential address; her car was outside.

Long enough to find nothing else. If the place had been tossed, it was done by a professional.

I left.

Found a phone booth and called the police to report the body.

I got back to my car to find two men waiting. There wasn’t much use in running.

“At it again, Sam?”

The two cops that my father had asked to keep me on the straight and narrow.

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t insult us, Sam. You know what we’re talking about. You can’t be poking around crime scenes.”

How did they know where I’d been? I’d only just called it in.

They knew. I’d known my father had not exactly been clean, not as clean as he said he was, and besides, clean cops were not murdered in a mob hit. No, these were two acolytes.

“How do you…”

Lance, the more senior of the two, shook his head. “Tsk, task, Sam. Wrong place, wrong time. Don’t make a habit of it now, will you, son?”

I shook my head in that obedient fashion they liked.

“Good boy.” Borg patted me on the head like I was a good boy. I was anything but. A chip off the old block.

“Good lad. Leave this one alone.”

A parting pat on the back, and they left. Was I going to heed good advice? No. I waited for an hour, and then I started searching for details on the internet.

Jessie Walker was famous. Over a million hits in the search engine, and fascinating in death as much as she was in life. For a police commissioner’s wife of three weeks.

She looked so much more interesting alive when splashed all over the front page of the city daily. In death, she would barely rate a second glance.

And what did she have to do with Freddie and Bethany Riccardo? Tomorrow was not going to be a good day.