Megan Wildhood

Do you have a space dedicated to creative work? What does it look like? If you don’t, what would an ideal workspace look like to you?

When I think about space to create, I think more about mental space than physical space. I can write – and have written – almost anywhere, including on a plane, underwater, and in line at DisneyLand. But only because I have been able to find the right mental space to do so, which I used to think was serendipitous. As I’ve paid attention to the rhythms and patterns of engaging in writing, though, I’ve noticed a few things: there needs to actually be space in my mind in order for me to write anything I can work with. This means that I can’t have listened to podcasts nonstop all morning; I need to sit in silence, something that’s been very difficult for me to do for as long as I can remember, for a good while. It also means I need to have my to-dos either completed or written out somewhere so they aren’t ping-ponging in my mind. Lately, I have felt much more affected by chronic stress than I had previously registered, and the most effective way I’ve found to discharge this in the event I cannot remove the stimulus, is rigorous exercise, which I learned through my almost-year-long training program for a 200-mile bike ride that takes place in my area every year. Sounds bonkers, but I highly recommend some form of challenging physical movement that you have to push yourself to stay with for a long course.

How do you push through creative blocks?

Two strategies I’ve used that have been effective for me are to 1) always have multiple projects going at once. That way, if I’m not finding the poetry groove that day, I’ll pull out one of my novels to edit or an essay that needs finishing. And 2) To just. Get. Started. I have found both that this seems to be the most daunting part for me no matter if it’s editing a project or staring down a blank page. Once I’ve just bit the bullet and gotten started, it is always surprisingly easy to keep going and get so much more done than it felt at the start like I would have.

What tips would you give someone taking their first steps in creative work? What did you need to hear when you were getting started?

I was given the advice early on as a young writer to “do anything else if I could” and “only pursue writing if I absolutely had to.” I think that’s terrible advice, even though I did feel like I had to. Woe to me (and everyone around me) if I’m not writing. But that’s because, when I write, I feel God’s pleasure, and life makes sense. I may not ever figure out what else, if anything, God put me on this earth for, but I know that writing is a thing I will do until I’m called Home. That’s why I write. And if I had taken my first steps into the creative process wit that confidence, I would not have spent years in guilt for potentially “wasting” my time writing poetry when the world’s on fire. I used to yearn for a “real” job because, I believed, poetry is not penicillin. But, as the healing power of your favorite book points to, it actually is. So, for those of you just taking your first steps: don’t take rejection, even when it’s harsh or rude, personally and keep going. There really is someone who is desperate for your words; I now regularly receive emails and notes from people who find pieces I’d gotten published years ago telling me how my words have changed their lives. This isn’t all of why I write, but it’s why I’m grateful I didn’t stop the many times I felt like I should, especially in the face of years of rejection.


Megan Wildhood is a writer, editor and writing coach who helps her readers feel seen in her monthly newsletter, poetry chapbook Long Division (Finishing Line Press, 2017), her full-length poetry collection Bowed As If Laden With Snow (Cornerstone Press, May 2023) as well as Mad in America, The Sun and elsewhere.

Read “Oso Means Bear In Another Language” in our first issue.

Megan Wildhood

Do you have a space dedicated to creative work? What does it look like? If you don’t, what would an ideal workspace look like to you?

When I think about space to create, I think more about mental space than physical space. I can write – and have written – almost anywhere, including on a plane, underwater, and in line at DisneyLand. But only because I have been able to find the right mental space to do so, which I used to think was serendipitous. As I’ve paid attention to the rhythms and patterns of engaging in writing, though, I’ve noticed a few things: there needs to actually be space in my mind in order for me to write anything I can work with. This means that I can’t have listened to podcasts nonstop all morning; I need to sit in silence, something that’s been very difficult for me to do for as long as I can remember, for a good while. It also means I need to have my to-dos either completed or written out somewhere so they aren’t ping-ponging in my mind. Lately, I have felt much more affected by chronic stress than I had previously registered, and the most effective way I’ve found to discharge this in the event I cannot remove the stimulus, is rigorous exercise, which I learned through my almost-year-long training program for a 200-mile bike ride that takes place in my area every year. Sounds bonkers, but I highly recommend some form of challenging physical movement that you have to push yourself to stay with for a long course.

How do you push through creative blocks?

Two strategies I’ve used that have been effective for me are to 1) always have multiple projects going at once. That way, if I’m not finding the poetry groove that day, I’ll pull out one of my novels to edit or an essay that needs finishing. And 2) To just. Get. Started. I have found both that this seems to be the most daunting part for me no matter if it’s editing a project or staring down a blank page. Once I’ve just bit the bullet and gotten started, it is always surprisingly easy to keep going and get so much more done than it felt at the start like I would have.

What tips would you give someone taking their first steps in creative work? What did you need to hear when you were getting started?

I was given the advice early on as a young writer to “do anything else if I could” and “only pursue writing if I absolutely had to.” I think that’s terrible advice, even though I did feel like I had to. Woe to me (and everyone around me) if I’m not writing. But that’s because, when I write, I feel God’s pleasure, and life makes sense. I may not ever figure out what else, if anything, God put me on this earth for, but I know that writing is a thing I will do until I’m called Home. That’s why I write. And if I had taken my first steps into the creative process wit that confidence, I would not have spent years in guilt for potentially “wasting” my time writing poetry when the world’s on fire. I used to yearn for a “real” job because, I believed, poetry is not penicillin. But, as the healing power of your favorite book points to, it actually is. So, for those of you just taking your first steps: don’t take rejection, even when it’s harsh or rude, personally and keep going. There really is someone who is desperate for your words; I now regularly receive emails and notes from people who find pieces I’d gotten published years ago telling me how my words have changed their lives. This isn’t all of why I write, but it’s why I’m grateful I didn’t stop the many times I felt like I should, especially in the face of years of rejection.


Megan Wildhood is a writer, editor and writing coach who helps her readers feel seen in her monthly newsletter, poetry chapbook Long Division (Finishing Line Press, 2017), her full-length poetry collection Bowed As If Laden With Snow (Cornerstone Press, May 2023) as well as Mad in America, The Sun and elsewhere.

Read “Oso Means Bear In Another Language” in our first issue.