Choosing Curiosity Over Pressure

There’s a strange quiet that comes after you finish something big.

The deadlines fall away. The adrenaline fades. The constant question of “Is this done yet?” finally disappears—and in its place is a much softer, more unsettling one:

What now?

I’ve found myself standing in that space recently. Coming off the end of a long creative chapter (5 years in the same world, working on the same series), I was excited to look ahead at new ideas, new goals, and new possibilities. But with that excitement came unexpected pressure. Pressure to create something amazing, to move fast, to prove that finishing the Rising Elements series wasn’t a fluke.

Instead of panicking about all the what-ifs and the pressure to create something even better than what I’ve created so far, I’ve made a conscious choice.

This season, I’m choosing curiosity.

And it’s changing everything.

Coming Out of a Big Season

Finishing a series is not just a professional milestone—it’s an emotional one.

For years, my creative energy was wrapped up in the same world, the same characters, the same long arc. There was always a next scene to write, a loose thread to tie up, an ending waiting somewhere on the horizon.

When that chapter finally closed, I found myself in an unexpected dilemma. I had been moving in one direction for so long that stopping felt disorienting, and now I had a million paths open before me. What kind of creative project did I want to work on next? I could return to my clean contemporary romance roots, or I could write another YA fantasy series, but my heart was pulling me toward romantasy next. As exciting as that is, there’s a lot of anxiety there too.

Every time I thought about it, the anxiety and the excitement nearly canceled each other out.

That was my first clue that urgency wasn’t the right approach here.

The Difference Between Pressure and Momentum

For a long time, I confused pressure with momentum.

Pressure looks like rushing decisions because you think you should, forcing clarity before it’s ready, and measuring your worth by output alone.

Momentum, on the other hand, is quieter. It builds naturally when ideas are allowed to breathe, curiosity leads the way instead of fear, and you trust that the process doesn’t have to be frantic.

I realized that if I stepped into my next project fueled by pressure, I’d carry that tension into the work itself. That won’t translate into a story I want to tell, and it’s certainly not the kind of creative life I want to build.

Why Curiosity Feels Like the Braver Choice

Curiosity sounds gentle, but it’s not passive.

In this season, I’m asking questions without demanding immediate answers, taking time to explore my ideas, and allowing myself to say, “I don’t know yet, but I’ll figure it out.”

It feels risky, especially in a world that rewards writers who can crank out books like nobody’s business.

This year, I’ve got a plan in place, but there’s a lot of room for flexibility. I won’t be putting up a preorder until I have everything else done and in place, and I’m writing the entire first duology (plus the accompanying novella) before I do any editing. This will help me really explore and flesh out the story before I’m locked in by a published manuscript.

And honestly? It feels exciting. It feels freeing. And I can’t wait to see what it does for my story!

Trusting the Process (Even When It’s Uncomfortable)

There’s a moment in every creative season where trusting the process feels suspiciously like doing nothing.

It’s not, but it can look that way from the outside—and sometimes from the inside too.

In truth, thinking counts as work, rest is part of creation, and slow seasons are still productive. Just in a different way.

Every time I’ve rushed past this stage in the past, I’ve paid for it later—with burnout, misalignment, or projects that never quite felt right.

This time, I’m choosing patience.

Health, Energy, and the Long View

Another reason I’m choosing curiosity over pressure right now is simple: my body asked me to.

The past year brought major health changes and a new focus on sustainability—not just in writing, but in my overall life. I’ve had to learn how to balance ambition with energy, creativity with care. I’m building a life that feels full and beautiful and energy-giving. And a large part of that means allowing myself time to rest when I need it.

Permission Not to Rush the Answers

One of the most freeing realizations I’ve had recently is this:

I don’t have to know everything yet.

I don’t need a perfect roadmap, a locked-in timeline, or all the answers before I begin.

This season is about exploration. About discovery. About trusting that clarity will come from doing, not from forcing certainty upfront.

Giving myself permission not to rush has removed so much unnecessary stress. It’s reminded me why I fell in love with storytelling in the first place—not for the finish line, but for the process of uncovering something amazing.

What This Looks Like in Practice

Choosing curiosity over pressure isn’t abstract—it shows up in small, practical ways:

• Writing scenes without worrying if they’ll make the final draft

• Letting projects stay private until they’re ready

• Following interest instead of obligation

• Adjusting goals when life changes

• Valuing consistency over intensity

  
  

And honestly, I’ve noticed already how much lighter creativity feels. When I give myself space to explore, my ideas connect more naturally. The characters feel more alive, and the story’s themes are revealing themselves without force. It’s an amazing feeling!

If You’re in a Similar Season

If you’re reading this and finding yourself in a similar place—between chapters, between goals, between versions of yourself—I want you to hear this:

You are allowed to slow down.

You are allowed to explore.

You are allowed not to know yet.

Choosing curiosity doesn’t mean you lack ambition. It means you’re playing the long game.

And the long game is where the most meaningful work is done!

Looking Ahead

I don’t know exactly where this season will lead yet.

I know the direction.I know the tone.I know the kind of stories I want to tell.

But I’m letting the details unfold at their own pace.

There will be announcements. Deadlines. Plans. All of that will come in time.

For now, I’m listening. Paying attention. Letting curiosity guide the way forward.

And honestly? It feels like I’m exactly where I’m meant to be.

Final Thoughts

Pressure can get things done—but curiosity keeps you in love with the work.

This season, I’m choosing the path that protects my joy, honors my energy, and leaves room for surprise.

If that means things take a little longer, I’m okay with that.

Because the stories that last are rarely rushed.

And neither are the creative lives that sustain us.