What makes a fire burn
is space between the logs,
a breathing space. - “Fire” by Judy Brown
On Resistance, Autonomy, and Workarounds
Some people love deadlines and accountability. I am not one of those people.
I like to do things on my own time and in my own way. But, annoyingly, without a deadline I also struggle to get anything done.
I have what folks call PDA, or Pathological Demand Avoidance (aka: Persistent Drive for Autonomy). Which basically means that the moment something feels like a demand (even if it’s something I want to do), my whole nervous system rebels. PDA is a nervous system response that makes even self-imposed expectations feel like threats.
Here’s how it tends to work for me:
I say yes to something that excites me.
I start to plan. I get a long way into the initial process and then, just as it begins to pass the point of no return, suddenly, it all feels like too much. I feel like I’ve built a glittering cage for myself and I need an escape route.
I get flooded, frozen, convinced I’d rather reorganize my books by color (or start a whole new life) than write a single line of poetry.


The anxiety is very real. Many of us creatives, neurodivergent folks, and people who feel things deeply, struggle with aspects of this. I think it is maybe even part of what makes some of us artists - the internal defiance against expectations. But it’s challenging nevertheless.
So I’ve learned to sneak up on the work.
To begin before I admit I’ve begun.
I like to outmaneuver the panic by opening a notebook two weeks early, jotting down a few lines that definitely aren’t poems…until they are.
So, to be clear: this is not a to-do list,
it’s an invitation.
Ways to begin without beginning
Here are a few ways you can set yourself up for a whimsical, romantic, poetic, summer of writing (before your inner resistance even knows what’s happening!). If you are joining me for Chapbook Summer, these are excellent ways to get ready, and if not, these are still fun suggestions to get you going on any writing project.
Write like it doesn’t count - Use the next two weeks to write as fast as you can - wake up early or stay up late, sneak an hour at lunchtime, and get 10 more poem drafts written. Write write write! Bad drafts are so much better than perfect fantasies of drafts.
Read what’s come before - Go to the library or your local bookstore and find some chapbooks and zines for inspiration. Not just full-length poetry collections, chapbooks: short, deliberate, odd little books. See what’s being published by small presses. Ask your local librarian or order a couple from a press you admire. Pay attention to what makes them work (or not). Look up recent winners of chapbook contests and see if you can find some chapbooks you love online.
Find art that echoes - Take photos of art books, flip through interior design books, anything that aesthetically tugs at your soul. Go back through your old photo albums and pull out images that speak to your project, peruse Pinterest for images that evoke the vibes and themes of your project.
Research sideways - What are your poems circling around? Think of topics you might want to research to deepen your work, pull articles, make a physical or digital folder of resources, maps, definitions, language you like, whatever might help you go deeper. You don’t need to read it all now. Just start building your little archive.
Catch what’s already arriving - Keep a notebook by your bed so you can write down things that come up in your dreams or before you drift off to bed. Set up a way to do voice to text while you’re in the car, in case inspiration strikes while you’re driving.
Pay attention to your inner voice - it might have ideas, messages, etc for you as you begin to gather your work together.
Either way, start before it feels like a thing.
Before it gets scary.
Just start.
And remember:
You’re allowed to feel avoidant about the things you love
You’re allowed to take breaks in the middle of your own dreams
You are allowed to build a life that works with your nervous system, not against it.
You don’t need to be fixed
You might just need to create more space between the logs.
I’m with you in this (I’m repeating this softly to myself)
With joy and patience with my foibles,
Alix
Paid subscribers, you're invited to a live generative writing call this Sunday, June 15th at 4pm ET. (Another great way to get a few drafts started before we dive in!). You will get a separate email with the call info on Sunday. Upgrade now if you’d like to join us!
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If you are joining me for Chapbook Summer, we start on July 7th so keep an eye out for a welcome email the first week of July! There are a few spots left if you’d like to sign up - click through below!
I am in a beautiful yet uncomfortable period of personal-slash-professional development right now, and your words today were a balm I didn’t realize I needed. You verbalized the tension between joy and excitement versus fear and avoidance over a pursuit in a way that helped me really understand what I’ve been experiencing in a new way and made me feel deeply seen.
Your selection of Judy Brown’s “Fire” provided a truly sublime illustration of your post’s overarching theme.
Your “And remember” section was absolutely inspired. Yes! Yes! Yes! to every point you made!
Your encouragement, “Bad drafts are so much better than perfect fantasies of drafts,” is something I see myself coming back to again and again. I have read or heard this advice in many varied forms, but your phrasing particularly connected with me.
Whoa. I had to look this up because it sounds SO much like me. When you said "outmaneuver" it really bammed my forehead. Pow! I am bipolar, no doubt, but as I've gotten older, I've begun to wonder and marvel at all the traits and behaviors I share with my son, who is autistic/bipolar.
I'm in treatment for an eating disorder, and I have told my food coach over and over that I have to approach things obliquely. If I face them head-on, I get angry. My back gets up. I have to do things on the back burner, from the corner of my eye. I don't think she gets it. Perhaps I will show her this.