The Truth About Writing When You’re Burned Out

Hello Readers

Let’s have a heart-to-heart.

Writing is magical, fulfilling, powerful—and sometimes, it’s absolute hell.

I know, I know. You’re probably thinking, “But Tiffany, you write about powerful Over Lords, dark magical awakenings, and love twisted in betrayal! How could writing that ever feel like a burden?”

Let me tell you.

There are days when the words come like breathing—natural, instinctive, unstoppable. I sit at my laptop, caffeinated and confident, and the characters practically drag me into their world. Those are the good days. The addictive days. The reason I started writing in the first place.

But then... there are the other days.

The burnout days.

The days when every sentence feels like pulling teeth from a dragon. Where your brain is fogged up, your fingers hover over the keyboard for an hour, and all you can manage to write is one sentence that you immediately delete because it “doesn’t feel right.”

And you sit there thinking, “Was I ever good at this?” “Am I just creatively broken now?” “Would it be weird if I just... took a two-year nap?”

Let me be the first to say: it’s normal.

Burnout doesn’t mean you’re a bad writer. It doesn’t mean your creativity is gone. It doesn’t mean the story isn’t worth telling.

It just means you’re human.

We put a lot of pressure on ourselves as writers. Whether you're writing your debut novel or your tenth series, there’s this unspoken expectation to always be producing. To show up on social media. To hit word count goals. To outline, revise, edit, promote, publish, repeat.

But creativity is not a factory.

You can’t manufacture inspiration. You can’t force your heart to pour out on a page when it’s running on fumes.

And that’s okay.

What I've Learned Through Burnout

During one of my worst creative slumps, I didn’t touch my manuscript for weeks. Every time I opened the file, my chest would tighten. It wasn’t just writer’s block—it was exhaustion. Mental. Emotional. Even physical.

And what helped me get through it?

• I stopped trying to force it. Sometimes the best thing you can do is walk away. Let the story rest. Let yourself rest.

• I reconnected with my characters. Not to write, but just to remember why I loved them in the first place. I reread old scenes, listened to their playlist, even imagined them roasting me for being dramatic.

• I gave myself permission to suck. First drafts are supposed to be messy. Sloppy. Wild. You can’t edit what doesn’t exist, and you sure as hell can’t write when perfectionism is strangling your flow.

• I remembered my readers. You. The ones who message me about Dani’s sarcasm or cry over Viktoria’s choices. You remind me that the words do matter. That they will return.

Burnout Isn’t the End

It’s just a pause. A moment to breathe. A signal that maybe—just maybe—you need to refill your own well before you pour anything else onto the page.

So if you’re a writer and you’re feeling burned out, I see you. I hear you. You’re not lazy. You’re not broken. You’re just tired.

And rest is not failure.

Give yourself grace. The story will still be there when you’re ready.

And when that fire reignites—oh, it’ll burn hotter than ever.

Until next time...