A Creative Audit

Finish the Year with a Fresh Perspective

Dec 30, 2024

Hey there, creative one.

This post is my very last of the year — and also the final post in a series of Creative Hibernation workshops I’ve been sharing over the past six weeks.

New to Creative Hibernation? Catch up on previous posts and view the whole series here »

The main ‘goal’ here has been to take a break from being consumed with writing-related goals and simply… follow where our creativity leads us.

No pressure. No FOMO. No hustle. No bustle. No word counts. No deadlines. No must-dos and have-tos and should-dos and what-if-I-don’t-do panics.

Just you, your writing, your ideas, your daydreams, your thoughts, your wonderings, and whatever your creativity decides to ping around your head when you actually give it some room.

So far, over the past five weeks, we’ve:

Deliberately stepped away from our WIPs to see how it feels to give ourselves some creative and objective space.
Immersed ourselves in all the facets of our stories to get back to the roots of why and what we’re writing.
Given ourselves a little appreciation and practised positive reinforcement to rewrite some of the negativity around over-pressured writing practices.
Tantalised our creativity by cultivating a sense of excitement and curiosity into our writing.
Ventured into the unknown and explored all the possibilities of our WIPs with curious, open-minded exploration.

This week, I’m replacing my regular monthly Fixion Lessons post with the final part of Creative Hibernation, in which we take everything we’ve looked at so far and turn it into something tangible to bring forward to the new year.

A ‘creative audit’ of everything you’ve learned about your writing; about how you work best; about where you want to go from here with all your creative shenanigans…

(And YES, I am aware that ‘audit’ is the dullest and least creative framework for this, but bear with me — it’ll all come good, I promise.)

How does your creativity flow?

If you’re like me — especially with the end of the year looming — you’re constantly looking to the future when it comes to your creative work.

What’s the next thing? What can I set as a new goal? How fast can I get there? How do I move onto the next stage? How do I get better at this? How do I skip the boring/hard/annoying bits and reach the finish line?

One one hand, this forward-looking perspective can create the necessary motivation and drive to keep moving. But on the other hand, only thinking ahead can mean you’re not actually paying much attention to what your creativity is trying to tell you in the moment.

(And if you take nothing else from the Creative Hibernation, then at least consider giving yourself a teeny tiny break to stop, listen, and pay attention to your creativity.)

Over the past year, I’ve realised I don’t often stop and consider where I’ve been or how I got there. I don’t often pause and look back. I don’t often give myself credit for the things I’ve already done, or the work I’ve already put in, or how much I’ve changed and grown and learned along the way.

And I certainly don’t often stop to take stock of how any of this actually felt while I was doing it.

Did this work for me?
Did I enjoy it?
Did it stress me out?
Did my creativity develop in the process?
Did I discover something new?
Did I discover something not to do?
And did it all lead me somewhere interesting?

These are important questions to ask from time to time — but I know I rarely give myself the time and space to consider them. Which is kinda where this whole idea of Creative Hibernation came from. That, and working with a tonne of writers over the years, who have also shown me that what they need most is objectivity (which can only really come from a place of honest observation — which can only really come from a period of pause).

So, how do we take stock of where we’re at, how we got here and where the heck we’re headed?

Well, if you’ve been following along thus far, we’ve already done some pretty significant work towards this. (Congrats!)

And if you’re just joining us, there’s no bad time to start doing a little hibernating!

Either way, here’s a brief summary/recap/rundown of the whole shebang:

The first step is just to put everything down for a hot second. To actively step away from your creative work (it’s only temporary, don’t freak out) and remove any pressure that’s been weighing you down about it. The sky will not fall if you don’t write for a while (and if you’re already stuck, chances are you ain’t doin’ much anyway). But a little autonomous downtime can be a vital ingredient in re-igniting your enthusiasm and imagination for whatever you’re working on.
The second step is to look at all the things that make up the whole. All the breadcrumbs that led you to this exact point in your WIP (or your writing in general). The initial spark of an idea, the inspiration and influences, the research and groundwork, the drafts and development, the notes and scribbles and discarded versions. Immerse yourself in the world of your story and revel in all you’ve created. Because I bet there’s more there than you think. And you should be freakin’ proud of that.
Speaking of: the third step is to take pride in your writing — no matter what stage you’re at, no matter how hard it feels sometimes, no matter how high your aspirations are, and how far you feel from that point right now. A lot of writers I know naturally lean toward the negative when thinking or talking about their work — self-deprecating, unsatisfied, frustrated, and always wanting to do more, be more, write more. And if something isn’t working, well, they’re clearly doing something heinously wrong and they should just be doing it better, working harder and ughhhhhh. (Sound familiar?)
But a little positivity, a little curiosity, and a little objectivity can create a whole load of excitement in your writing — which is our fourth step, and a seriously joyful one. Flipping that negativity into an endless source of potential and possibility and opportunity to write and explore and enjoy the process can be such an effective way to reconnect with your creativity. And, more importantly, (re)learn how to listen to what it’s trying to tell you…
Which leads us nicely to step five: opening your mind to all the unknowns within your writing AKA letting your subconscious lead the way and giving your creativity full rein to show you all the unexplored and unexpected corners of your imagination. Because sometimes we get stuck or burnt out or frustrated because we’re only looking at what we already know. A bit like looking at your feet instead of where you’re walking — you run the risk of going round and round in circles. But when you take a tentative step into the void of the unknown — into those shadowy areas of uncertainty — that’s where the creative magic really happens!

And so, here we find ourselves, at step six of this whole process: ready to take ALL of that into account and audit our creative selves.

What the fuck is a creative audit?

Back in October, I decided to give myself a whole life audit — work, hobbies, creative stuff, everything — to see how far I’d come and how much I’d learned after a year of freelancing, a pretty massive life change, starting afresh and re-finding my flow.

I looked at what had worked, what had stalled, and what had fallen off the map entirely. I looked at what I enjoyed, what I hated, what I found difficult and what surprised me. I looked at the things I’d completed and those still in progress and yet others that were still a twinkle in my eye.

I set each of them against criteria that felt important to me, for example:

Was this idea/project viable? i.e. did it lead somewhere, did it have legs, or did it fizzle out?
Did this idea/project feel authentic? i.e. was it truly, honestly, deeply me?
Was this idea/project sustainable? i.e. was it something I could keep doing — or wanted to keep doing?
Did this idea/project bring me joy? i.e. was it exciting, interesting or challenging in a pleasantly addictive way?
Was I able to get in the flow when working on this idea/project? i.e. did I have everything I needed to fully immerse myself in it?
Did this idea/project help me develop as a creative? i.e. have I learned something, or has it connected me with others who can support or work with me?

Notice, if you please, that none of these criteria are particularly focused on outcomes or achievements or finished products.

Instead, they’re about how fulfilling each idea or project felt. How closely connected to my creativity they brought me. And how much I wanted to keep doing them.

My best friend said to me just the other day:

“What would you-from-2023 think about where you are right now?”

(Which is a GREAT question. Thank you, Natalie, I love you.)

In pondering this, I realised the thing I’d be most excited about telling my past-self would be exactly what I’m telling you now: how fucking great it feels to tap into where your creativity is trying to take you.

My little made-up creative audit was a big step in realising that.

And so, I’m passing it onto you.

Audit your creative self

To get started, you can try applying those criteria above (or your own) to your writing — and/or you can ask yourself some or all of the following questions.

First, let’s take a broad view of your writing practice:

What have you enjoyed writing most this year?
- This could be a major work-in-progress or it could be a random side project, a one-off writing exercise, or a bit of fanfic. Whatever it is: how did it make your little creative heart sing?
- Or perhaps the thing you enjoyed most was a particular aspect of writing, eg: some juicy backstory or high-action scenes or snappy dialogue or the moments when you get deep and metaphorical — something that just felt right when you wrote it.
What helps you get in the flow and immerse yourself in creativity?
- Have you noticed any particular time, place or conditions where you write best? How do you get your head in the right space? What distracts you?
- Have you developed any mini routines or preparations (or superstitions) that helped you get in the zone? If not — what do you think might help?
What areas of your writing do you feel like you’ve really developed this year?
- What have you learned about yourself as a writer? If things didn’t go as planned, what lessons did you gain from the experience? If you had some successes, how did they come about?
- What are you good at? What are you getting better at? What are you working damn hard on? What are you proud of?
Who or what has helped you with your writing this year?
- A writing buddy, a beta reader, an editor (oh hi!), a writing group, a teacher, a mentor (hi again), or an entirely non-writing person who happened to give great advice? How did these people help, and how can you continue and reciprocate these relationships? What other connections can you explore?
- What resources or avenues of research have helped you find the information or epiphanies you needed? Can you create a curriculum for yourself to develop your craft even further?
What deeper meanings, ideas or questions do you think you’re trying to explore in your creative work?
- What are you trying to say? How are you trying to say it? Are you managing to articulate these thoughts? Are you still discovering them? Do they feel authentic and honest? Do they feel like you?
- How can you experiment in new ways to bring these meanings to the surface of your writing? A different form, genre, approach, technique? Why and how is your creativity leading you down this path?
What are you sure of (and unsure of) in your writing right now?
- Perhaps you’re certain about what you want to write and where you want to take it. But perhaps you’re not so certain about your writing voice and how to make it feel like you. Perhaps your fictional character is as real as real can be in your head but you’re struggling with your plot structure.
- What are your strengths and sureties, and which areas feel more challenging? Where can you focus your exploration to bring you new knowledge, and how can you build on the foundations that feel rock solid?

Some big, thoughtful questions to get you pondering through to the new year…

You don’t need to answer (or consider) all of them.

You don’t actually need any answers at all.

The point is to stop and think about it. To pause and observe. To hibernate on these ideas and consider how your creativity feels about them.

Audit your work-in-progress

Next, you can go even narrower and apply a similar approach to your work-in-progress or a specific writing project:

What’s currently working in your WIP?
- What are those sureties you’d lay money on? A particularly well-drawn character? The ending? Worldbuilding?
- Where are you making most progress? Can you spiderweb out from those areas so you’re always starting from a place of strength?
What’s at the heart of your story?
- Last week we talked about the central question and truth of your WIP — can you use this as a compass to keep yourself on track?
- What feels most important about writing this particular story? What does it mean to you? What are you trying to say?
What makes you excited about writing your WIP?
- Go back to all the things that help you feel immersed and connected to your story; what initially sparked off the idea; why you wanted to write it in the first place.
- And think about all the things you’ve yet to write that you can’t wait to discover, research and explore…
Can you explain your story in a short, succinct summary?
- Do you really know what it is you’re trying to write and how it all hangs together? Writing an elevator pitch or a Sparks Notes version is a real test of how well you understand your WIP.
- Especially if you’ve just taken a full six weeks of Creative Hibernation — this is a really interesting exercise in seeing what you prioritise as the most important parts of your story…
What is your vision for your WIP’s future?
- How do you want it to look, feel and sound when it’s polished and finished? What’s the vibe? How do you feel about it? What is most satisfying about it?
- And what direction is your creativity nudging you towards next in pursuit of this vision?

Once again — this audit has absolutely nothing to do with setting goals for productivity or word counts or deadlines.

It’s about how you go about writing your WIP.

It’s about what brings you the most joy and sparks the most excitement.

It’s about listening to what your creativity is trying to say, and following where it leads.

‘Cause that’s where the good things happen, I promise.

Creative Hibernation Task #6:

Wait, now there’s a task, after you’ve already just answered a billion questions about your writing?

Yes. Because chances are, after all of that, you’re swimming in a billion swirling ideas and thoughts and possibilities without any tangible direction.

So we’re gonna take another pause, another breath, and focus our attention on just one thing.

One small next step.

Pick one thing from the vast menu of exciting, enticing, enthusiastic options available to your limitless creativity.

A single scene. A piece of research. A new document for a new draft. A character backstory. A message to a writing buddy to request feedback. A reconnaissance mission to an inspiring location.

And, if you can, really try to tap into the one thing your creativity wants to do most of all — even if it has nothing to do with your WIP or what you think you should do next.

One joyful creative thing.

That’s all you need to put on your to-do list or your new year’s resolution list.

The rest of it can stay floating in the ether. It ain’t goin’ anywhere. It will wait as long as you need — until you’re ready for it.

And, once you’re done with that first little thing, you can pluck out the next exciting morsel (guided, of course, by your creative intuition). And then the next, and the next, and the next.

Until all you’re doing is flowing.