5 Proven Ways to Give Your Writing Confidence a Real Boost
Whether you’re polishing a novel manuscript, drafting a blog post, or scribbling down a quick journal entry, every writer hits the “I‑don’t‑know‑if‑this‑is‑good enough” wall at some point. The good news? Confidence isn’t a mystical talent you’re either born with or not—it’s a skill you can train, just like plotting, character arcs, or SEO research. Below are five concrete strategies (backed by research and real‑world experience) that will help you shake off self‑doubt, step into your writer’s voice, and keep the words flowing.
1. Celebrate Small Wins – Turn “Done” Into “Done‑and‑Delicious”
Why it works: Psychologist Dr. Barbara Fredrickson’s Broaden‑and‑Build theory tells us that positive emotions expand our mental toolkit, making us more creative and resilient. Acknowledging tiny achievements creates that positive feedback loop.
How to apply it:
Small Milestone
Celebration Idea
Finishing a paragraph
Add a sticky note to your monitor that says “Paragraph conquered!”
Hitting a word‑count target (e.g., 500 words)
Treat yourself to a 5‑minute playlist of your favorite songs
Finding the perfect metaphor
Write it on a slip of paper and tape it on your wall as a visual trophy
Receiving a kind comment on a draft
Save the comment in a “Confidence Folder” (digital or physical) for low‑energy days
Make it a habit: At the end of each writing session, jot down one thing you did well. Over weeks, you’ll have a personal “confidence bank” to draw from when you feel stuck.
2. Adopt a “Draft‑First, Edit‑Later” Mindset
Why it works: Research from the University of Cambridge shows that separating the creative (draft) and analytical (edit) phases lowers perfectionism and increases output quality. When you stop judging while you write, the flow state—that sweet spot where the words seem to write themselves—is easier to achieve.
Practical steps:
Set a timer for a “pure draft” sprint (e.g., 20 minutes). During this window, no back‑spacing, no grammar checks, no Googling synonyms. Just write.
Label the document “RAW” so you consciously know you’ll revisit it later.
Switch gears after the sprint: take a short walk, stretch, then open the file in “Edit” mode. You’ll be surprised at how many “aha!” moments appear when you return with fresh eyes.
Result: The draft becomes a safe space for experimentation, and the later edit feels like polishing a gem rather than fixing a broken vase.
3. Build a “Writer’s Support Squad”
Why it works: Social support is a massive confidence driver. According to a 2022 study in Writing Research Quarterly, writers who regularly share work with peers report 31% higher self‑efficacy (belief in their ability to succeed) than solitary writers.
Ways to create your squad:
Join a local or virtual writing group. Platforms like Meetup, Discord, or even Facebook have genre‑specific circles.
Find a “beta‑reader buddy.” Swap drafts with someone you trust; give each other a single, focused piece of feedback (e.g., “Did the protagonist’s motivation feel clear?”).
Hire a professional editor for a “confidence edit.” Even a brief 30‑minute session can validate that you’re on the right track.
Use accountability apps. Tools like Habitica or Beeminder let you set writing goals and get nudges (or gentle shame‑reminders) from friends.
Tip: Keep the feedback loop specific and positive. A phrase like “I loved how you showed the conflict through dialogue” feels far more empowering than a vague “It’s good.”
4. Leverage the Power of “Impostor‑Syndrome Journaling”
Why it works: Impostor syndrome—feeling like a fraud despite evidence of competence—is rampant among writers. A 2020 meta‑analysis in Psychology of Aesthetics, Creativity, and the Arts found that journaling about these thoughts reduces their intensity by 40%.
How to journal effectively:
Name the feeling. Write, “I’m feeling like an impostor because…”
Collect evidence. List concrete achievements (publications, positive comments, word‑count milestones).
Reframe. Turn “I’m not good enough” into “I’m still learning, and that’s okay.”
Set a “next‑step” goal. E.g., “Read one article on pacing this week.”
Do this once a week, preferably after a writing session. Over time, the journal becomes a personal truth‑checker that reminds you of your progress whenever doubt creeps in.
5. Practice “Micro‑Storytelling” to Warm Up Your Voice
Why it works: Micro‑storytelling (flash fiction ≤ 300 words, Instagram captions, or even 6‑sentence anecdotes) forces you to distill ideas quickly, sharpening your narrative instincts and giving you immediate, tangible proof of skill.
Kick‑start ideas:
Prompt
Word Limit
Goal
“The last word you ever typed”
150
Capture tension in a single scene
“A coffee shop conversation that changes everything”
200
Practice dialogue
“A piece of advice you’d give to your younger self”
250
Tap into voice & authenticity
“Rewrite a classic fairy tale in 3 sentences”
100
Hone brevity & wit
Routine: Spend the first 10 minutes of every writing day on a micro‑story. When you finish, you have a finished piece to share, post, or shelve—instant confidence.
Putting It All Together: A 7‑Day Confidence Sprint
Day
Focus
Action
1
Celebrate Wins
Write 3 bullet‑point win notes after your session.
2
Draft‑First
20‑minute sprint + “RAW” label.
3
Squad Up
Post a snippet in your writing group, ask for one specific comment.
4
Impostor Journal
Follow the 4‑step journaling template.
5
Micro‑Story
Complete a flash‑fiction piece (≤200 words).
6
Edit Session
Revisit Day 2’s draft with fresh eyes.
7
Review & Reward
Compile all win notes, journal entries, and micro‑stories. Celebrate with a treat or a leisure activity.
At the end of the week, you’ll have a portfolio of proof—a tangible collection that demonstrates progress, skill, and resilience. And more importantly, you’ll have rewired your brain to associate writing with positive outcomes rather than fear.
Final Thought: Confidence Is a Muscle, Not a Magic Spell
Every writer—whether a debut novelist, a seasoned journalist, or a hobbyist blogger—needs a reliable toolbox for moments of doubt. The strategies above are evidence‑based, low‑cost, and adaptable to any schedule or genre. Try one or mix several, track what resonates, and watch your inner critic shrink while your creative voice grows louder.
Ready to boost your confidence? Grab a notebook, pick the first tip, and start today. Your future self (and your readers) will thank you.
It was the first time in almost a week that I made the short walk to the cafe alone. It was early, and the chill of the morning was still in the air. In summer, it was the best time of the day. When Susan came with me, it was usually much later, when the day was much warmer and less tolerable.
On the morning of the third day of her visit, Susan said she was missing the hustle and bustle of London, and by the end of the fourth she said, in not so many words, she was over being away from ‘civilisation’. This was a side of her I had not seen before, and it surprised me.
She hadn’t complained, but it was making her irritable. The Susan that morning was vastly different to the Susan on the first day. So much, I thought, for her wanting to ‘reconnect’, the word she had used as the reason for coming to Greve unannounced.
It was also the first morning I had time to reflect on her visit and what my feelings were towards her. It was the reason I’d come to Greve: to soak up the peace and quiet and think about what I was going to do with the rest of my life.
I sat in my usual corner. Maria, one of two waitresses, came out, stopped, and there was no mistaking the relief in her manner. There was an air of tension between Susan and Maria I didn’t understand, and it seemed to emanate from Susan rather than the other way around. I could understand her attitude if it was towards Alisha, but not Maria. All she did was serve coffee and cake.
When Maria recovered from the momentary surprise, she said, smiling, “You are by yourself?” She gave a quick glance in the direction of my villa, just to be sure.
“I am this morning. I’m afraid the heat, for one who is not used to it, can be quite debilitating. I’m also afraid it has had a bad effect on her manners, for which I apologise. I cannot explain why she has been so rude to you.”
“You do not have to apologise for her, David, but it is of no consequence to me. I have had a lot worse. I think she is simply jealous.”
It had crossed my mind, but there was no reason for her to be. “Why?”
“She is a woman, I am a woman, she thinks because you and I are friends, there is something between us.”
It made sense, even if it was not true. “Perhaps if I explained…”
Maria shook her head. “If there is a hole in the boat, you should not keep bailing but try to plug the hole. My grandfather had many expressions, David. If I may give you one piece of advice, as much as it is none of my business, you need to make your feelings known, and if they are not as they once were, and I think they are not, you need to tell her. Before she goes home.”
Interesting advice. Not only a purveyor of excellent coffee, but Maria was also a psychiatrist who had astutely worked out my dilemma. What was that expression, ‘not just a pretty face’?
“Is she leaving soon?” I asked, thinking Maria knew more about Susan’s movements than I did.
“You would disappoint me if you had not suspected as much. Susan was having coffee and talking to someone in her office on a cell phone. It was an intense conversation. I should not eavesdrop, but she said being here was like being stuck in hell. It is a pity she does not share your love for our little piece of paradise, is it not?”
“It is indeed. And you’re right. She said she didn’t have a phone, but I know she has one. She just doesn’t value the idea of getting away from the office. Perhaps her role doesn’t afford her that luxury.”
And perhaps Alisha was right about Maria, that I should be more careful. She had liked Maria the moment she saw her. We had sat at this very table, the first day I arrived. I would have travelled alone, but Prendergast, my old boss, liked to know where ex-employees of the Department were, and what they were doing.
She sighed. “I am glad I am just a waitress. Your usual coffee and cake?”
“Yes, please.”
Several months had passed since we had rescued Susan from her despotic father; she had recovered faster than we had thought, and settled into her role as the new Lady Featherington, though she preferred not to use that title, but go by the name of Lady Susan Cheney.
I didn’t get to be a Lord, or have any title, not that I was expecting one. What I had expected was that Susan, once she found her footing as head of what seemed to be a commercial empire, would not have time for details like husbands, particularly when our agreement made before the wedding gave either of us the right to end it.
There was a moment when I visited her recovering in the hospital, where I was going to give her the out, but I didn’t, and she had not invoked it. We were still married, just not living together.
This visit was one where she wanted to ‘reconnect’ as she called it, and invite me to come home with her. She saw no reason why we could not resume our relationship, conveniently forgetting she indirectly had me arrested for her murder, charges both her mother and Lucy vigorously pursued, and had the clone not returned to save me, I might still be in jail.
It was not something I would forgive or forget any time soon.
There were other reasons why I was reluctant to stay with her, like forgetting small details, an irregularity in her character I found odd. She looked the same, she sounded the same, she basically acted the same, but my mind was telling me something was not right. It was not the Susan I first met, even allowing for the ordeal she had been subjected to.
But, despite those misgivings, there was no question in my mind that I still loved her, and her clandestine arrival had brought back all those feelings. But as the days passed, I began to get the impression my feelings were one-sided and she was just going through the motions.
Which brought me to the last argument, earlier, where I said if I went with her, it would be business meetings, social obligations, and quite simply her ‘celebrity’ status that would keep us apart. I reminded her that I had said from the outset I didn’t like the idea of being in the spotlight, and when I reiterated it, she simply brushed it off as just part of the job, adding rather strangely that I always looked good in a suit. The flippancy of that comment was the last straw, and I left before I said something I would regret.
I knew I was not a priority. Maybe somewhere inside me, I had wanted to be a priority, and I was disappointed when I was not.
And finally, there was Alisha. Susan, at the height of the argument, had intimated she believed I had an affair with her, but that elephant was always in the room whenever Alisha was around. It was no surprise when I learned Susan had asked Prendergast to reassign her to other duties.
At least I knew what my feelings for Alisha were, and there were times when I had to remember she was persona non grata. Perhaps that was why Susan had her banished, but, again, a small detail; jealousy was not one of Susan’s traits when I first knew her.
Perhaps it was time to set Susan free.
When I swung around to look in the direction of the lane where my villa was, I saw Susan. She was formally dressed, not in her ‘tourist’ clothes, which she had bought from one of the local clothing stores. We had fun that day, shopping for clothes, a chore I’d always hated. It had been followed by a leisurely lunch, lots of wine and soul searching.
It was the reason why I sat in this corner; old habits die hard. I could see trouble coming from all directions, not that Susan was trouble or at least I hoped not, but it allowed me the time to watch her walking towards the cafe in what appeared to be short, angry steps; perhaps the culmination of the heat wave and our last argument.
She glared at me as she sat, dropping her bag beside her on the ground, where I could see the cell phone sitting on top. She followed my glance down, and then she looked unrepentant back at me.
Maria came back at the exact moment she was going to speak. I noticed Maria hesitate for a second when she saw Susan, then put her smile in place to deliver my coffee.
Neither spoke nor looked at each other. I said, “Susan will have what I’m having, thanks.”
Maria nodded and left.
“Now,” I said, leaning back in my seat, “I’m sure there’s a perfectly good explanation as to why you didn’t tell me about the phone, but that first time you disappeared, I’d guessed you needed to keep in touch with your business interests. I thought it somewhat unwisethat you should come out when the board of one of your companies was trying to remove you, because of what was it, an unexplained absence? All you had to do was tell me there were problems and you needed to remain at home to resolve them.”
My comment elicited a sideways look, with a touch of surprise.
“It was unfortunate timing on their behalf, and I didn’t want you to think everything else was more important than us. There were issues before I came, and I thought the people at home would be able to manage without me for at least a week, but I was wrong.”
“Why come at all. A phone call would have sufficed.”
“I had to see you, talk to you. At least we have had a chance to do that. I’m sorry about yesterday. I once told you I would not become my mother, but I’m afraid I sounded just like her. I misjudged just how much this role would affect me, and truly, I’m sorry.”
An apology was the last thing I expected.
“You have a lot of work to do catching up after being away, and of course, in replacing your mother and gaining the requisite respect as the new Lady Featherington. I think it would be for the best if I were not another distraction. We have plenty of time to reacquaint ourselves when you get past all these teething issues.”
“You’re not coming with me?” She sounded disappointed.
“I think it would be for the best if I didn’t.”
“Why?”
“It should come as no surprise to you that I’ve been keeping an eye on your progress. You are so much better doing your job without me. I told your mother once that when the time came I would not like the responsibilities of being your husband. Now that I have seen what it could possibly entail, I like it even less. You might also want to reconsider our arrangement, after all, we only had a marriage of convenience, and now that those obligations have been fulfilled, we both have the option of terminating it. I won’t make things difficult for you if that’s what you want.”
It was yet another anomaly, I thought; she should look distressed, and I would raise the matter of that arrangement. Perhaps she had forgotten the finer points. I, on the other hand, had always known we would not last forever. The perplexed expression, to me, was a sign she might have forgotten.
Then, her expression changed. “Is that what you want?”
“I wasn’t madly in love with you when we made that arrangement, so it was easy to agree to your terms, but inexplicably, since then, my feelings for you changed, and I would be sad if we parted ways. But the truth is, I can’t see how this is going to work.”
“In saying that, do you think I don’t care for you?”
That was exactly what I was thinking, but I wasn’t going to voice that opinion out loud. “You spent a lot of time finding new ways to make my life miserable, Susan. You and that wretched friend of yours, Lucy. While your attitude improved after we were married, that was because you were going to use me when you went to see your father, and then almost let me go to prison for your murder.”
“I had nothing to do with that, other than to leave, and I didn’t agree with Lucy that you should be made responsible for my disappearance. I cannot be held responsible for the actions of my mother. She hated you; Lucy didn’t understand you, and Millie told me I was stupid for not loving you in return, and she was right. Why do you think I gave you such a hard time? You made it impossible not to fall in love with you, and it nearly changed my mind about everything I’d been planning so meticulously. But perhaps there was a more subliminal reason why I did because after I left, I wanted to believe, if anything went wrong, you would come and find me.”
“How could you possibly know that I’d even consider doing something like that, given what you knew about me?”
“Prendergast made a passing comment when my mother asked him about you; he told us you were very good at finding people and even better at fixing problems.”
“And yet here we are, one argument away from ending it.”
I could see Maria hovering, waiting for the right moment to deliver her coffee, then go back and find Gianna, the café owner, instead. Gianna was more abrupt and, for that reason, was rarely seen serving the customers. Today, she was particularly cantankerous, banging the cake dish on the table and frowning at Susan before returning to her kitchen. Gianna didn’t like Susan either.
Behind me, I heard a car stop, and when she looked up, I knew it was for her. She had arrived with nothing, and she was leaving with nothing.
She stood. “Last chance.”
“Forever?”
She hesitated and then shook away the look of annoyance on her face. “Of course not. I wanted you to come back with me so we could continue working on our relationship. I agree there are problems, but it’s nothing we can’t resolve if we try.”
I had been trying. “It’s too soon for both of us, Susan. I need to be able to trust you, and given the circumstances, and all that water under the bridge, I’m not sure if I can yet.”
She frowned at me. “As you wish.” She took an envelope out of her bag and put it on the table. “When you are ready, it’s an open ticket home. Please make it sooner rather than later. Despite what you think of me, I have missed you, and I have no intention of ending it between us.”
That said, she glared at me for a minute, shook her head, then walked to the car. I watched her get in and the car drive slowly away.
These donuts are whole with jam injected into them and are delicious. You cannot stop at one, which is why you get five.
There are like the donuts I used to get from the Dandenong market when I was a child. Back then, nearly 60 years ago, I used to go every Tuesday to get fruit and vegetables, and sometimes clothes, because there were other stalls selling useful household items.
Back then we used to get donuts, and for a long time, I had never managed to get back when the market was open to relive those childhood memories.
This trip we do.
The Dandenong Market had changed considerably since the last time I remember it. The building where my eldest son used to play basketball has been turned over to meat, fish, and food stalls.
It has spread to be about ten times the size it used to be, making it seem like a difficult task to find the donut van, but we entered by the right entrance and there it was.
And the donuts?
They were exactly as I remembered.
While we’re in the area we also make a trip to the Springvale market. When I lived in Victoria there was no such market, this had only been around since the immigrant Vietnamese have made their home in Springvale, and in places, it reminds you of similar markets in Singapore, Hong Kong, or China.
It was a fascinating half-hour of wandering around almost feeling like you are somewhere in South East Asia.
With markets like these who would really need a supermarket? And a bonus? The street food.
The Unwritten Prologue: How Natural-Born Writers Knew Their Story Begun
Every great writer’s journey has a beginning, often buried in the imagination long before they held a pencil. These are the natural-born writers—those who were storytellers at their core before they could write a single word. They didn’t wait for spelling lessons or grammar rules; their stories flowed in the language of play, whispers of narrative, and the cadence of their own dreams. How did they know, and how did they craft their art without ink or paper? Let’s explore the enchanted first chapters of these visionary creators.
The Pre-Writing Stage: Stories Before Writing
Long before literacy, natural writers are oral storytellers. They might have been the child inventing tales for stuffed animals, reenacting myths with wooden swords, or narrating their day to an invisible audience. Their imagination is a stage, and the world their audience. Even without words, they convey emotion through sound, gesture, and rhythm. Think of a toddler saying, “She took the cookie and ran like a princess” to a doll. That’s not just play—it’s storytelling in its rawest form.
Similarly, a love for language often emerges early. These writers-in-the-making are the ones “reading” picture books repeatedly, experimenting with invented words, or collecting poetry in their minds. They’re attuned to the music of language, humming stories to themselves before they can write them.
Signs of a Natural-Born Writer
Compulsive Storytelling: They create worlds in play, crafting elaborate scenarios with toys or friends.
Early Fascination with Letters and Sounds: They recognize letters before starting school, perhaps scribbling “I don’t know what this letter is, but it’s magic!”
Imaginative Interpretations of Reality: They reimagine everyday events as adventures, turning a walk to the park into a quest.
Emotional Resonance with Stories: They weep for characters in bedtime tales, proving they deeply connect with narrative.
From Oral to Written: How They Paved the Way
Natural-born writers often transition from oral to written storytelling with relentless curiosity. J.K. Rowling, for instance, has spoken about inventing stories as a child to amuse herself and her brother. Dr. Seuss’s rhymes as a child (and his iconic use of sound) hint at a writer born not just to write, but to make language sing.
Before formal training, these writers might:
Tell stories to family, refining their tales through feedback.
Use drawings or symbols, creating “books” with pictures and cryptic text.
Mime scenes, acting out dialogue as their own script.
Memorize and adapt fables, internalizing the structure of storytelling.
Even without words, they’re practicing the essence of writing: character, conflict, and craft. As Maya Angelou once said, “The writer’s biggest problem is always, to say something; to say it fresh; to say it in a way that it’s never been said before.” Natural writers are solving this puzzle long before they put pen to paper.
Case Study: Tolkien and the Power of Myth
J.R.R. Tolkien’s passion for languages and mythology began in childhood. Before he wrote The Hobbit, he crafted his own languages and sagas, scribbling in notebooks with imagined alphabets. His parents called him “a reader and a teller of tales from a very early age.” Without the ability to write fully, he likely told stories orally, nurturing the mythologies that later defined modern fantasy.
The Legacy of the Unwritten
Natural-born writers learn that storytelling is a muscle—grow it before you can spell narrative. Their journey teaches us that being a writer isn’t about talent alone, but about telling the story that only you can tell, regardless of tools. A child speaking to a toy, a teen journaling in code, or an adult crafting tales in their head—these are all valid forms of the writer’s craft.
To the Young (and Young at Heart) Writers
If you’ve ever built a castle in the clouds or whispered secrets to your teddy bear, embrace it. You are already a writer. Your letters may not be formed, your grammar unlearned, but your voice is real. As you grow, let those early stories guide you. The greats started with nothing more than a dream and a desire to share it.
So, tell your tale. Even if it’s just to the moon. Even if it’s all in your head. You’re already writing.
What story do you carry in your heart before it’s written down? Let it out. The world needs to hear it.
Bogotá, Colombia’s vibrant capital, is often synonymous with iconic landmarks like Plaza de Bolívar or the towering Monserrate. But beyond the well-trodden tourist trails lies a city rich with untold stories, cultural treasures, and serene escapes that reveal a more authentic side of Colombia. If you’re ready to venture beyond the usual sights, here are five unique experiences that will deepen your connection to Bogotá and its soul.
1. Museo del Chocio: A Private Museum with Heart
Tucked away in a quiet neighborhood, the Museo del Chocio (also known as the Soul of a Curious Mind) is a one-of-a-kind hidden gem. Founded by Arturo Chocio, a Colombian engineer turned obsessive collector, this intimate museum houses over 70,000 items spanning 11,000 years of human history—pottery, tools, art, and even Egyptian sarcophagi. It’s a labyrinth of wonder for history buffs and collectors’ curious minds, with personal artifacts displayed in a former house. Entry is donation-based, and the museum’s quirky charm offers a rare, personal journey through global cultures. Tip: Visit on a weekday to enjoy the exhibits in peaceful seclusion.
2. Parque Tunal: A Green Oasis with Literary Roots
While many flock to the bustling Parque 93, Parque Tunal is a lesser-known sanctuary where locals unwind. This sprawling park, home to pre-Columbian sculptures and a hidden library, is the perfect spot for a leisurely afternoon. The lush gardens and shaded benches invite reflection, while the Biblioteca Virgilio Bernal—a modern library offering books and events—adds a cultural twist. Tip: Don’t miss the park’s Mirador del Tunal, a hilltop viewpoint offering panoramic city views, especially magical at sunset.
3. Quinta de Bolívar: Step into History at Simón Bolívar’s Home
For a deeper dive into Colombia’s independence story, visit Quinta de Bolívar, the historic home of Simón Bolívar. This preserved country house in San Antonio offers a glimpse into the life of the “Libertador,” with original furniture, mementos, and a beautiful garden. The museum’s child-friendly exhibits and workshops make it ideal for families, while the serene setting is perfect for a picnic. Tip: Combine your visit with a stop at Cafetería La Quinta, a cozy café serving traditional Colombian pastries.
4. La Nuestra de la Asunción: A Cultural Hub in Transition
Once a colonial convent, La Nuestra de la Asunción has evolved into a vibrant arts and community center. Housed in a restored 19th-century convent, this space hosts rotating art exhibitions, theater performances, and culinary workshops that celebrate local traditions. The fusion of history and modern creativity here is inspiring, and the nearby Galería del Barco adds a contemporary art flair. Tip: Check the venue’s calendar for weekend workshops—try your hand at making arepas or Colombian coffee.
5. San Agustín Street Art Trail: A Kaleidoscope of Colour
While La Candelaria is famous for its colonial architecture, the San Agustín neighborhood is a canvas for Bogotá’s vibrant street art scene. Wander through alleys adorned with murals by local and international artists, often infused with social and political commentary. The community’s blend of art, hip cafés, and eclectic shops gives it a bohemian vibe. Tip: Grab a coffee at La Casita del Tio, a beloved spot in the area, and let the murals guide your stroll.
Conclusion: Embrace Bogotá’s Layers
Bogotá is a city of contrasts—where history, nature, and modern creativity collide. By exploring these lesser-known treasures, you’ll uncover a side of the city that locals cherish, one that speaks to resilience, passion, and community. So, trade the crowded queues for quiet pathways, and let Bogotá surprise you with its hidden magic. After all, the best travel stories are born from the detours we take.
So says Jorge Luis Borges in Doctor Brodies report.
Wow! If only I could guide my dreams.
They are a mess at the best of times and always end before I get to the good part.
That’s why I am writing a series called The Cinema of My Dreams. I lie awake at night staring at the ceiling, and instead of seeing darkness, I see the plots of my stories playing out. They never go where I want them to, but that’s because life doesn’t always play ball.
It’s the way my stories are written, an episode at a time, and not fully knowing what’s going to happen, as I write. I am writing like I’m the reader, hanging on every word, leaping from cliffhanger to cliffhanger.
Admittedly, it can be nerve-wracking, especially when an idea for the next episode doesn’t materialise, but I get there. Inspiration sometimes comes from anywhere at any time.
But most people like to have a plan, and that, to me, means you know every aspect of the story before you write it. I don’t like that because it would take too like to create the outline.
Brasília, the futuristic capital of Brazil, is a city of sleek modernist architecture and political grandeur. But beyond the iconic landmarks like the National Congress and Cathedral of Brasília (Catedral de Brasília), there lies a quieter, more authentic Brasília waiting to be explored. If you’re ready to venture off the beaten path, here are five unique experiences that will make your visit unforgettable.
1. Step Back in Time at Cruzeiro Velho
Tucked away in the Setor Habitacional Jardim Botânico, Cruzeiro Velho is a charming neighbourhood that offers a glimpse into Brasília’s origins. Established in 1959, this area was one of the city’s first residential enclaves, featuring traditional Portuguese-style houses constructed from adobe and wooden beams. Unlike the city’s geometrically modern structures, Cruzeiro Velho exudes rural simplicity and warmth. Stroll through its narrow cobblestone streets, visit the historic Igreja de Nossa Senhora do Carmo (Church of Our Lady of Mount Carmel), and join locals at the community square for a slice of real Brasília life. Tip: Visit in the evening when the community hosts small cultural events, like folk music performances.
2. Admire Street Art in the Túnel das Artes
Hidden beneath Asa Sul, the Túnel das Artes (Arts Tunnel) is a vibrant canvas of local creativity. This 110-meter tunnel, once a utility passage, is now a kaleidoscope of murals, graffiti, and mosaics by Brasília’s most talented artists. The artwork reflects the city’s dynamic spirit and social narratives, making it a must-see for art enthusiasts. Since it’s a working-class thoroughfare, you’ll often spot locals enjoying the art amidst the hum of daily life. Pro Tip: Bring a camera and explore the tunnel during daytime when the lighting highlights the vivid colours.
3. Relax in the Tranquil Jardim Botânico de Brasília
Escape the city’s buzz at the Jardim Botânico de Brasília (Brasília Botanical Garden), a serene sanctuary housing over 2,000 plant species native to Brazil’s Cerrado and Amazon regions. While it’s a scientific institution, the garden’s peaceful atmosphere and scenic walking trails make it a beloved retreat for horticulturists and nature lovers alike. Don’t miss the Pavilhão das Orquídeas (Orchid Pavilion) and the Casebre (a replica of a traditional Cerrado house). Essential Info: Admission is free, and the garden is open daily from 8 AM to 6 PM.
4. Taste Local Flavours at Feira Central
One of Latin America’s largest markets, Feira Central, is where Brasília’s soul tastes best. This bustling hub, open Monday to Friday, is a sensory overload of sizzling street food, fresh produce, and handicrafts. Sample regional delicacies like feijoada (Brazilian stew), queijadinha (cheese cake), and quindim (egg custard in a caramel cup). The market is also a treasure trove for Afro-Brazilian art, leatherwork, and traditional cangaço-style jewellery. Traveller’s Note: Arrive early to avoid the midday heat and join locals for a lively pre-lunch tradition.
5. Discover Nature and Nostalgia at Parque da Torre de TV
Located in Asa Sul, Parque da Torre de TV blends history, nature, and fun. The park is anchored by the iconic Torre de TV, a 139-meter communications tower that once served as a vital link for Brazil’s media. Surrounding the tower is a scenic reservoir, walking paths, and a mini-zoo with native wildlife. Rent a paddleboat on the lake or hike the trails to the top of Morro da Mineirinha for panoramic views. It’s a family-friendly spot that feels worlds away from the city’s formal vibe. Insider Tip: Visit on weekends when the park hosts cultural fairs and open-air concerts.
Conclusion: Beyond the Blueprints Brasília’s true magic lies not just in its architectural masterpieces but in the stories whispered through its lesser-known corners. Whether you’re savouring street food at Feira Central or wandering the adobe streets of Cruzeiro Velho, these off-the-beaten-path adventures reveal a city that’s as rich in culture as it is in innovation. So let curiosity be your guide, and discover Brasília beyond the blueprints.
Final Note: Before you go, check local event calendars for festivals, farmers’ markets, and art exhibitions that add spontaneity to your trip. Brasília’s hidden gems are best discovered with an open heart and a willing spirit.
The Unwritten Prologue: How Natural-Born Writers Knew Their Story Begun
Every great writer’s journey has a beginning, often buried in the imagination long before they held a pencil. These are the natural-born writers—those who were storytellers at their core before they could write a single word. They didn’t wait for spelling lessons or grammar rules; their stories flowed in the language of play, whispers of narrative, and the cadence of their own dreams. How did they know, and how did they craft their art without ink or paper? Let’s explore the enchanted first chapters of these visionary creators.
The Pre-Writing Stage: Stories Before Writing
Long before literacy, natural writers are oral storytellers. They might have been the child inventing tales for stuffed animals, reenacting myths with wooden swords, or narrating their day to an invisible audience. Their imagination is a stage, and the world their audience. Even without words, they convey emotion through sound, gesture, and rhythm. Think of a toddler saying, “She took the cookie and ran like a princess” to a doll. That’s not just play—it’s storytelling in its rawest form.
Similarly, a love for language often emerges early. These writers-in-the-making are the ones “reading” picture books repeatedly, experimenting with invented words, or collecting poetry in their minds. They’re attuned to the music of language, humming stories to themselves before they can write them.
Signs of a Natural-Born Writer
Compulsive Storytelling: They create worlds in play, crafting elaborate scenarios with toys or friends.
Early Fascination with Letters and Sounds: They recognize letters before starting school, perhaps scribbling “I don’t know what this letter is, but it’s magic!”
Imaginative Interpretations of Reality: They reimagine everyday events as adventures, turning a walk to the park into a quest.
Emotional Resonance with Stories: They weep for characters in bedtime tales, proving they deeply connect with narrative.
From Oral to Written: How They Paved the Way
Natural-born writers often transition from oral to written storytelling with relentless curiosity. J.K. Rowling, for instance, has spoken about inventing stories as a child to amuse herself and her brother. Dr. Seuss’s rhymes as a child (and his iconic use of sound) hint at a writer born not just to write, but to make language sing.
Before formal training, these writers might:
Tell stories to family, refining their tales through feedback.
Use drawings or symbols, creating “books” with pictures and cryptic text.
Mime scenes, acting out dialogue as their own script.
Memorize and adapt fables, internalizing the structure of storytelling.
Even without words, they’re practicing the essence of writing: character, conflict, and craft. As Maya Angelou once said, “The writer’s biggest problem is always, to say something; to say it fresh; to say it in a way that it’s never been said before.” Natural writers are solving this puzzle long before they put pen to paper.
Case Study: Tolkien and the Power of Myth
J.R.R. Tolkien’s passion for languages and mythology began in childhood. Before he wrote The Hobbit, he crafted his own languages and sagas, scribbling in notebooks with imagined alphabets. His parents called him “a reader and a teller of tales from a very early age.” Without the ability to write fully, he likely told stories orally, nurturing the mythologies that later defined modern fantasy.
The Legacy of the Unwritten
Natural-born writers learn that storytelling is a muscle—grow it before you can spell narrative. Their journey teaches us that being a writer isn’t about talent alone, but about telling the story that only you can tell, regardless of tools. A child speaking to a toy, a teen journaling in code, or an adult crafting tales in their head—these are all valid forms of the writer’s craft.
To the Young (and Young at Heart) Writers
If you’ve ever built a castle in the clouds or whispered secrets to your teddy bear, embrace it. You are already a writer. Your letters may not be formed, your grammar unlearned, but your voice is real. As you grow, let those early stories guide you. The greats started with nothing more than a dream and a desire to share it.
So, tell your tale. Even if it’s just to the moon. Even if it’s all in your head. You’re already writing.
What story do you carry in your heart before it’s written down? Let it out. The world needs to hear it.
No matter how hard you try, how seamless, on paper the plan is, the odds are something will go wrong. That is not to say I am a fatalist, or a glass half empty kind of traveler, because most of the trips I have planned, and taken, have been relatively painless.
Except our good luck had to finally run out.
It was not a matter of bad planning; it was just one of those times when events didn’t quite go according to plan. It happens.
For instance, the simple objective was to get from Brisbane in Australia to Florence in Italy. There is no direct flight. Booking on an airline site is a horrendous experience, fares are ridiculously high, and there is no accommodating stopovers.
This is a trip that only a travel agent can handle.
The objective, travel to London via Hong Kong, or Singapore, or any medium distant airport, then on to London, or Paris, or where-ever, then to Florence. No overnight stopover, staying in a hotel, not this time, in either of Hong Kong or London.
Simple.
Not.
It was as horrendous for the agent as it was navigating the airline’s internet site. It was not something that could be done, sitting opposite her as she deftly navigated the highways and byways of the travel system on her computer. This was a longer, more intricate job.
Two days later she had the solution for the Brisbane, Hong Kong, London, and thence Florence trip. It would require a stay of 10 hours in Hong Kong, the connections didn’t align according to price constraints, and then a 14 hour layover in London as flights to Florence were not aligned either. All well and good. Cathay Pacific for the trip to London and Vueling Airlines for the Florence leg. At least we would arrive in Florence at a reasonable hour, about 6pm.
On paper, it was the most practical solution in the circumstances.
Reality proved it to be something else entirely.
At Brisbane airport, we were given boarding passes for the flights through to London, but by some quirk of fate had our baggage checked through to Florence. How this could be done without boarding passes for the London to Florence flight was a surprise. Back in Brisbane, the check-in person told us she could not give us a boarding pass for the London to Florence leg because the system would not issue it. We could she said, get it easy enough when we arrived in London.
The first leg went smoothly enough, though we did not realize until we got on the plane that it stopped over in Cairns for an hour or so. This was not a problem, just made the time between Brisbane and Hong Kong longer than we anticipated.
In Hong Kong, we had no trouble getting into the lounge I’d booked. The problem came with the interpretation of using the bathroom facilities, and it took several hours before we finally realized that the bathroom facilities were not part of the lounge but operated independently and you had to book your place. By that time there were a large number of people ahead of us (who obviously knew the problems associated with these facilities) and it annoyed me that the lounge staff did not mention it when we arrived.
The Hong Kong to London leg was as all long haul flights are. We knew what to expect, and arrived in London around 6 am. We arrived at terminal three and the lounge we’d booked was in terminal three. All we needed was a boarding pass to get in.
Oops.
That was not the case.
Because we could not get back into terminal three without a forward boarding pass we had to exit and go through customs and immigration. We were told that the only way to get a boarding pass for the Florence flight was to go to the airline counter.
The problem was Vueling did not have an airline counter.
This is where tempers started to flare. 7:30 in the morning, no means of getting into the lounge which we had paid a lot on money for, and no one in the terminal being helpful.
The Vueling web site was impossible to use.
The telephone number rang out.
At this point, I was beginning to believe the airline didn’t exist and we had been ripped off.
Only by a quirk of fate, reading the departures board, did I see a flight for Vueling leaving at 10 am, with the check-in counter displayed.
By this time we had spent two very frustrating hours and I was nothing short of angry.
At the gate, the head of the check-in counter, a representative of Vueling was surprised we had any problems, particularly in Brisbane, but happily issued the boarding passes.
When we mentioned the baggage she advised us it was lucky we did, otherwise it would have gone missing. She took the tag numbers and sorted that problem out.
The airline, it seems, is well respected, and based on the service I received, I had to say I agreed
The problem was back in Brisbane with an inexperienced check in person.
There was only one problem in getting to the lounge, now four hours later than we had advised, the fact we had to go back through customs, and in doing so, the duty-free that we had brought from Hong Kong was now outside the limits allowed, and the customs staff were adamant despite the circumstances we could not take it with us. $400 worth of goods finished up in the bin.
It would be true to say that day the customs staff at Heathrow were not the best ambassadors for their country, and one, in particular, would be best doing service elsewhere where human contact was not a requirement. As for the others, they were as helpful as they could be, but rules unfortunately were rules.
At last, rather distressed over the duty-free, and the lateness of our arrival at the lounge, there was no possibility of getting a short sleep before going to Florence. At least we did not have the same problems using the bathroom facilities, our room I’d book had them included in the room.
We rested, and figured nothing else could go wrong.
Not. Again!
The plane was advertised to leave London at about 3 pm. We left the lounge expecting to get to the gate on time. We checked on the departure board for the flight to get the gate number, only to see a notice ‘delayed’. When that delay passed 5 pm, two hours later, we decided to go to the counter and find out what was happening.
Only to find there was no airline counter. Again!
We asked at least a dozen people, including the special helpers the airport who there is plenty of signage to say to go to if you have a problem, but not one of them knew where the counter was or who was looking after the affairs of the airline. By this time other irate passengers of the delayed flight were massing, also seeking answers. One discovered who the agent was, and we descended on the counter as a large group.
The first person I saw at the counter was the woman who had checked us in that morning. For her, it had been a long day, and it was getting longer.
The problem, the plane had been delayed on an earlier leg, yes it would be arriving, having just left the lat airport, and we would be embarking about 7:30. For our trouble, we got a meal voucher, and at least we could have a reasonably good dinner.
The plane arrived, we embarked, the service was good and the people on board as cheerful as they could be given the delays and the discontented passengers.
We arrived in Florence just before midnight, our driver to take us to the hotel was waiting for us, and the hotel upgraded us to a very nice room.
All in all a harrowing journey, but at the end, basically a six-hour delay, and two very tired, but happy people. And we were in Florence, in summer. What more could anyone want?
The Doyen of Noir: What Raymond Chandler’s Life, Style, and Philip Marlowe Teach Us About Storytelling
When you think of classic American crime fiction, the name that instantly flickers to mind is Raymond Chandler – the heavyweight champion of hard‑boiled noir whose razor‑sharp prose still feels fresh after more than eighty years. Chandler didn’t just write detective stories; he invented a literary atmosphere that turned a gritty, rain‑slick Los Angeles into a character in its own right and gave us the unforgettable gumshoe Philip Marlowe.
But behind the sleek dialogues and smoky tavern scenes lay a life riddled with missteps, self‑destruction, and surprising twists. By digging into Chandler’s history, his flaws, and his unmistakable style, we can extract timeless lessons for writers, marketers, and anyone who wants to make an impact with words.
1. A Rocky Road to the Pen
Milestone
What Happened
Why It Matters
Early Years (1888‑1912)
Born in Chicago, moved to Colorado, a peripatetic childhood. Lost his mother at 12 and was sent to live with relatives in England.
Early displacement instilled a sense of alienation that later seeped into his urban landscapes.
Oil‑Field Engineer (1912‑1932)
Spent two decades drilling in Texas and Mexico, clashing with corporate bureaucracy and the harsh desert.
The “outsider‑against‑system” mindset is a core theme in his novels.
World War I Service
Served in the U.S. Army, briefly, then returned to the oil business.
Experience with hierarchy and authority fed his skepticism of power.
The Downward Spiral (1932‑1934)
The Great Depression wrecked the oil market; Chandler’s marriage collapsed. He turned to alcohol, gambling, and a series of odd jobs.
The personal chaos sharpened his eye for the darker side of human nature—fuel for the noir aesthetic.
Breakthrough with The Big Sleep (1939)
At 49, Chandler finally published his first novel, introducing Marlowe.
Proved it’s never too late to start a successful second career.
Takeaway: Chandler’s path to literary fame wasn’t a straight line. It was a series of failures, relocations, and personal battles that forced him to confront his own darkness. For creators, this teaches that authentic storytelling often springs from lived adversity—the harder the journey, the richer the material.
2. The Signature Chandler Style
a. The “Hard‑Boiled” Voice
Economy of Language: Chandler favoured short, punchy sentences that carried weight. Example: “She was a cheap, cheap girl, and the cheapness rubbed off on the rest of us.”
Wry Similes & Metaphors: He turned ordinary observations into unforgettable images. Example: “He looked as if he’d been run over by a train and then dragged through a sandstorm.”
Moral Ambiguity: The lines between good and evil are blurred; even the hero has flaws.
b. Los Angeles as a Character
Concrete Details: From neon signs to desert highways, Chandler painted the city with a painter’s precision.
Atmospheric Consistency: Rain, fog, and darkness aren’t just weather—they’re mood setters that echo the protagonist’s inner turmoil.
c. Dialogue That Cuts
Witty Banter: Conversations feel like chess matches—each line a strategic move.
Understatement: Frequently, what isn’t said speaks louder than the spoken word.
Takeaway: Chandler’s style is a masterclass in restraint. He shows us that brevity, vivid imagery, and a strong sense of place can create a world that feels larger than the sum of its pages.
3. Philip Marlowe: The Archetype That Still Resonates
Trait
How Chandler Crafted It
Modern Echo
World‑Weary Cynic
Marlowe narrates with a mix of sarcasm and weary empathy.
Anti‑heroes in film/TV (e.g., Breaking Bad, The Wire).
Moral Compass
Despite his jaded outlook, Marlowe adheres to an internal code of honor.
Brands that position themselves as “honest rebels” (e.g., Patagonia).
Lone Wolf
He operates alone, skeptical of institutions.
Freelance creatives, solopreneurs, and “maker” culture.
Sharp Observational Skills
He notices the smallest details—a stray cigarette, a shaky handshake.
Data‑driven marketers who derive insight from micro‑behaviors.
Marlowe’s lasting appeal lies in his human contradictions: tough yet tender, cynical yet idealistic. He’s a reminder that complex, flawed protagonists are far more compelling than flawless heroes.
4. What We Can Learn From Chandler’s Legacy
1. Embrace Your “Not‑So‑Great” Past
Your setbacks are a goldmine for narrative tension. Chandler turned his own bitterness into a voice that resonated with millions.
Practical tip: Keep a “failure journal.” Record moments that felt humiliating or painful; later, mine them for raw material.
2. Cultivate a Distinct Atmosphere
Whether you’re writing a novel or drafting a brand story, the setting is a silent storyteller.
Practical tip: Before writing, create a sensory map: list five smells, three sounds, and two visual motifs that define your world.
3. Write With the Economy of a Detective’s Pistol
Every word should earn its place. Trim the fluff, sharpen the similes, and let subtext do the heavy lifting.
Exercise: Take a paragraph you love and rewrite it using 30% fewer words without losing meaning.
4. Give Your Hero a Moral Compass, Even If It’s Bent
Audiences crave characters who stand for something, even if that something is a personal code that defies society.
Implementation: Define your protagonist’s “one rule they’ll never break” and let it guide every decision.
5. Let Dialogue Do the Detective Work
Bad dialogue is a dead giveaway of lazy writing. Let characters reveal plot, personality, and tension through how they speak—not just what they say.
Practice: Write a scene where two characters talk about a crime without mentioning the word “crime” at all.
5. Bringing It All Home: Your Own Noir Blueprint
Step
Action
Outcome
1. Harvest Personal Grit
List three moments of personal failure.
Source of authentic conflict.
2. Choose a “City”
Identify a physical or metaphorical setting that mirrors your theme.
Creates immersive atmosphere.
3. Define the Hero’s Code
Write a one‑sentence creed for your protagonist.
Anchors moral ambiguity.
4. Draft with a “Marlowe Lens”
Write every scene as if you’re a detective observing details.
Boosts vividness and tension.
5. Polish for Punch
Cut words, sharpen similes, test dialogue for subtext.
Delivers Chandler‑style impact.
Final Thoughts
Raymond Chandler’s journey from oil‑field engineer to the reigning monarch of noir proves that a writer’s personal turbulence can become a powerhouse of creativity. His blend of hard‑boiled prose, atmospheric detail, and a morally complex hero continues to shape everything from modern crime thrillers to brand narratives that crave authenticity.
If you can channel Chandler’s willingness to stare into his own darkness, harness it into a distinctive voice, and give your audience a world they can see, smell, and feel, you’ll not just write a story—you’ll craft an experience that endures.
Take a page from the master: own your scars, paint your city, and let your protagonist walk the line between the shadows and the light. The result? A story that, like Chandler’s, never truly fades.
Thrills, Spills, and just a dash of Romance 