When Writing Becomes More Than a Hobby

You know what I’ve realised lately?

Writing, not just novels but short stories, flash fiction, even blog posts, has become more enjoyable to me than watching TV. More than movies. Sometimes, even more than reading.

Don’t get me wrong, I still love a good story in any form. But there’s something different about sitting down with a blank page. Something alive. It’s not passive, it’s creation. Every sentence, every scene, is something I get to build. To breathe life into.

It’s strange, isn’t it? We spend so much of our lives consuming stories, but when you start creating them, time shifts. You stop watching from the outside and begin shaping the inside, the heartbeat of the world you’re building.

And it’s not just about finishing something. It’s about the act itself, the quiet joy of shaping a world from nothing, of following a character you didn’t plan to meet, of reaching a line and thinking, Ah. That one was honest.

Writing has become my pause in the noise, a place where time disappears, yet I feel more present than anywhere else. It’s where I find myself again.

So I wonder, does anyone else feel this? Has writing ever felt more fulfilling than bingeing a series? More grounding than scrolling through a feed?

If so, I’d love to hear your thoughts. Because for me, writing isn’t just a pastime anymore. It’s where life slows down just enough for meaning to take shape.

Watch the video here: Why Writing Feels Better Than Watching TV | Life as an Author

The Quiet Victory of Persistence in Creativity

A short moment from the life of an author.

There’s a quiet kind of victory that never shows up in stats or milestones. It doesn’t come with applause, a viral short, or a nicely rounded word count. It just arrives with a sigh, a stretch of the fingers, and a whispered, “Alright then… carry on.”

Today was one of those days.

I stared at the draft. Again. I knew what needed rewriting, but every sentence felt heavier than it should. The edits weren’t flowing, the coffee wasn’t helping, and the background noise of daily life, bills, work, sleep I didn’t get, was louder than usual.

And yet… I didn’t close the document. I didn’t shelve the idea. I didn’t let the doubt win.

I wrote a sentence. Then another. Then reworded the first one and deleted the second but stayed with it. And that, strangely enough, felt like something.

I didn’t give up.

Not for the first time. Not for the last. But this was today’s win, and I think it’s one worth sharing.

If you’re working on something creative, whether it’s a novel, a painting, a video, or just the courage to start, know this: continuing is often the bravest thing we do.

So if today you didn’t give up either… I’m glad you’re still here.

Let’s keep going.

Simon

One Small Win That Kept Me Going A Comment That Changed My Day

There’s a strange kind of silence that follows uploading something into the void.

You spend days crafting a video or refining a chapter. You rewrite a line fourteen times until it stops sounding like bad theatre. You export, upload, tweak the thumbnail, write a caption that doesn’t sound desperate, and finally, finally, you press “Publish.”

And then… nothing.

At least, not right away. Maybe a view or two trickles in. A quiet like. You start questioning everything, your voice, your tone, your hair in that shot, whether this story was worth the time it took to write.

But then it happens. Someone, somewhere, leaves a comment that says:

“I want to read this.”

Five words. That’s it. No in-depth critique, no elaborate praise. Just a quiet little statement from a stranger who paused long enough to want more.

And that changed my entire day.

Not because it went viral. Not because I gained a hundred new followers or sold a book. But because it reminded me that the story I’m telling, the one I’ve dragged through sleepless nights, multiple rewrites, and far too many cups of tea, is reaching someone.

That’s the win.

It’s easy to talk about milestones and big launches. But for many writers, especially those still building something from the ground up, it’s the small, often invisible victories that keep the wheels turning.

So if you’re out there, watching someone’s book video or reading a blog post about a novel that hasn’t even launched yet, don’t underestimate what a simple comment can do.

To whoever left that message: thank you. You may not remember it, but I do.

5 Things I’ve Learned Writing My First Novel

When I first sat down to write The Veil of Kings and Gods, I thought I had a pretty good idea of what I was getting into. Turns out, I didn’t. Not entirely. What started as a story I’d been carrying around for years quickly became something bigger, more demanding, and surprisingly personal.

So here are five honest things I’ve learned while writing my first novel. No fluff, no glory, just the raw truths behind the word count.

1. Writing a novel is 20% writing, 80% rewriting

When people talk about “finishing a book,” what they usually mean is “finishing a first draft.” The actual writing is just the beginning. What follows is a long dance of trimming, reshaping, rewriting, and wondering what on earth you were thinking when you named a city “Flarnrath.”

Most of my real progress has come in the second draft, when characters became real, scenes started breathing, and I finally admitted that yes, that one chapter was absolute rubbish and needed to go.

2. Plot holes are sneaky little things

You can outline. You can plan. You can spend hours naming every town and hill. But I promise you, by Chapter 20, a plot hole you never saw coming will sneak up behind you like a fantasy tax collector.

Sometimes it’s a missing motivation. Sometimes a character forgets something they knew two chapters ago. Sometimes your own world’s logic turns on you. And that’s okay. Spotting the flaws means you’re actually building something worth fixing.

3. Characters have a mind of their own

This one still baffles me.

You give a character a role, supportive friend, rival noble, doomed warrior and before you know it, they’re wandering off-script, falling in love with the wrong person, or refusing to die when they’re supposed to.

It’s frustrating and brilliant. Because when a character surprises you, they’re starting to feel real. That’s when the story stops being yours alone and starts becoming something living on the page.

4. Worldbuilding is addictive (and dangerous)

Creating maps, lore, languages, timelines, ancient conflicts, it’s endlessly fun. But it can also become a brilliant excuse to avoid actual writing.

I’ve spent entire evenings designing a river system no one will probably ever look at, just to avoid a tough scene. It’s a delicate balance: build the world deep enough to feel real, but not so deep you never come up for air.

5. Progress isn’t linear, but momentum is everything

Some weeks I write two thousand words a day. Other weeks I barely manage two hundred. And that’s alright. It doesn’t mean I’m failing. It just means I’m human.

The trick is to keep showing up, to keep the story alive in your head and your heart, even when life pulls you in five different directions. Momentum builds when you stay close to the work, even if it’s just scribbling a line on your phone while riding the train.

Final Thoughts

Writing this novel has been one of the hardest and most rewarding things I’ve ever done. It’s taught me patience, discipline, and the strange kind of joy that comes from creating something nobody else can quite see, yet.

If you’re writing something of your own, or just thinking about it, I hope this little list reminds you that the struggle is part of the journey. And that you’re not alone in it.

Feel free to drop a comment below or subscribe to the blog if you’d like updates on my novel progress, lore posts, or random ramblings from the author cave.

See you in the next post.

Writing Through Illness Keeping the Flame Lit

There’s a particular stillness to the house when one is unwell. The windows dim, the hours stretch thin, and even the simple act of sitting at a desk becomes a task weighed with strange solemnity. Over the past week, I’ve been writing through a heavy spell of illness, not the romantic sort that lends itself to poetic fever-dreams and sudden inspiration, but the ordinary kind. The draining, silent kind. Head fog, aching bones, and the slow drag of breath.

And still, the story asks to be told.

It hasn’t been easy. The rhythm of my chapters, those long, rolling sentences that mirror the breath of the world I’m building, do not come quickly when my mind is wrapped in cotton. Dialogue feels slower to surface, the flow of magic across a battlefield takes more effort to visualise, and Simion’s thoughts… his weariness starts to echo my own. Yet somehow, that makes the writing more honest. There’s no room for pretense when you are sick. What emerges on the page feels stripped back to truth.

There’s comfort in the discipline, too. Even a few hundred words become a kind of anchor. I’ve been working steadily through Chapter 31, part by part, and while I’ve not progressed at my usual pace, I’ve remained in the world. That matters more than anything. Staying inside the rhythm of the novel, no matter how slowly, prevents the silence from becoming distance. And when you are tired, truly tired, that distance grows fast.

This post is not a grand revelation, nor a triumphant declaration of productivity. It is simply a mark on the wall. A quiet signal that the story lives, even on days when the author does not feel particularly alive himself. If you are also working through something, whether a cold, a long week, or a deeper weariness, I hope you remember this: words written under strain are still worthy. They still carry weight. And sometimes, they carry more of you than you realise.

I’ll return to the cliff’s edge soon, where Simion waits beside those ancient stones. There is much still to tell.

Until then, rest, breathe, and if you can, keep the flame lit.

Writing While Working Two Jobs: Why I Still Do It

People often ask me how I find the time to write while working two jobs. The short answer is: I don’t. Not really. Not the way I wish I could. But I do write, every week, sometimes every day, usually when I should be resting. And despite the exhaustion, the long nights, the early mornings, and the occasional doubt, I keep going. Because the story matters.

The Chaos Behind the Chapters

Right now, my life is split between running a small school, working night shifts, and squeezing in writing during stolen hours. Most days, I get by on sheer routine. Coffee helps. So does knowing that every chapter I finish brings me one step closer to the book I’ve dreamed of releasing for years: The Veil of Kings and Gods.

I’m not writing from a cabin in the woods or some serene studio. I’m writing at school, on the dinning room table, between shifts, and late into the night when everything else is quiet. This novel is being built between real life’s demands and that, in a strange way, makes it even more personal.

Why Not Wait?

It would be easy to say, “I’ll write when life slows down.” But the truth is, life might not. And if I wait for the perfect time, I might never finish the story I’ve already poured so much of myself into.

So instead, I chip away. One scene, one chapter, one revision at a time. And you know what? That consistency adds up. Even if I’m tired. Even if I sometimes question whether it’s worth it.

The Deeper Reason

I write because I love this world I’ve created. I believe in the characters. Simion, Elana, the fractured kingdoms of Ældorra, they’ve stayed with me through everything. And if they’ve stayed with me, maybe they’ll stay with readers too.

Writing gives me a sense of purpose beyond the day-to-day. It’s a reminder that I’m building something for myself, something that might one day outlive the jobs, the side gigs, and even the fatigue.

If You’re in the Same Boat

To anyone reading this who’s also juggling too much while trying to create something: keep going. Your work is valid, even if it’s slow. Even if it’s messy. Even if no one sees it yet. Just showing up matters.

What’s Next?

I’ve just finished proofreading and editing three more chapters, and it’s starting to feel real. I’ll be sharing more about the process and the book itself, both here and on my YouTube channel soon. If you’re curious about how a fantasy novel gets written under pressure (and often after midnight), subscribe or follow along.

Until then, thank you for reading, and thank you for letting me share this chaotic, hopeful journey.

How I Stay Inspired While Writing the Same Story for Years

Writing a novel isn’t always a straight path. For me, it’s been more like a winding mountain trail, sometimes clear and exciting, other times foggy and slow. I’ve been working on The Veil of Kings and Gods for years now. The world, the characters, and the themes have all evolved over time. And yet, somehow, I’ve never walked away from it.

So how do I stay inspired?

It’s not some mystical lightning bolt. It’s smaller than that, quieter. Sometimes it’s rediscovering an old scene I wrote months ago that still makes me smile. Other times it’s worldbuilding, filling in the map of Ældorra, thinking about what life is like in a ruined empire or how a long-forgotten piece of magic reshapes a character’s fate.

I also let the story grow with me. When I started this book, I was in a very different place in life. But I didn’t throw it out and start over. Instead, I’ve allowed my voice, my ideas, and my perspective to shift as the years have passed. I’ve rewritten, restructured, and reimagined, but never lost the heart of it.

What helps most, though, is this: I don’t pressure myself to rush.

This is a story I care about. I want it to be the best version of itself, not the fastest one. That mindset keeps the love alive. Some days I only manage a few lines. Other days I go deep. But each word brings me closer to the story I want to share.

If you’re writing something that’s taken years, you’re not alone. Let it take the time it needs. Let it change with you. The story will be stronger for it.

I’d love to hear about your long-term projects. What keeps you going? What has changed since you started?