Writing Using Intuition As Your Guide

Writing doesn’t follow a straight road. It’s not a clean staircase you climb one scene at a time. It’s more like a figure eight—looping, circling, sometimes feeling like you’re going backward before something clicks and you move forward again.

That’s why I write with my intuition wide open.

For me, writing is never just about hitting a word count or forcing a plot to behave. It’s about listening. About being willing to pause and ask, “Is this still the right direction?” Or better yet: “What would happen if I followed this strange little thread instead?”

Sometimes that answer comes from within—through a gut feeling or a dreamy image that shows up out of nowhere. Other times, I’ll pull a tarot card. Or I’ll spread out my Lenormand deck and see what message wants to come through. Not for fortune-telling, but as a mirror. A nudge. A way to check in with where my story—and my soul—are really at.

Maybe The Ship shows up, and I realize my character needs to leave the situation entirely. Maybe The Key appears, and I finally see what the book’s heart has been trying to say all along.

Intuitive writing is full of those moments—what Bob Ross would call “happy accidents.” You weren’t planning to write it that way. You didn’t outline it, didn’t prepare for it. But it happens anyway, and it’s somehow exactly right. Because you made room for the unknown. You trusted that the story had a rhythm of its own. That the universe has its own breadcrumbs to offer, if you’re paying attention.

This doesn’t mean you never revise. Or that you abandon structure completely. But it does mean you don’t grip the reins so tightly that you forget to feel. The best writing—your most resonant, alive, holy-shit-I-wrote-that writing—comes when you’re not trying to outsmart it. It comes when you’re open. Curious. Following the little flickers of energy that say “this part matters.”

I coach writers and edit stories with this same mindset. Not “how do we make this marketable,” but “how do we uncover what this story wants to be?” The writing process is personal, and sacred, and often surprising. My role is to walk alongside you, point out the signs you might be missing, and help you trust your own voice again.

Because it’s in there.

The map might not be linear. But the path is yours. And it’s more beautiful than you think.

Let the cards speak. Let your instincts guide. Follow the loops and figure eights. That’s where the real story lives.