Welcome back to A Writing Life, our series of monthly articles written by long-time 26 member and contributor Rob Self-Pierson.
Like many of us, Rob straddles the line between commercial and personal writing. Each month, we invite him to share stories from his writing life, reflecting on what it means to live as a writer today.
It’s November, and trying something a little different this month Rob notices a not-so-positive change in his approach to writing…
Image: A photo Rob took of a heron. “Cardboard out, I am royalty today” (what a regal-looking bird).
These days I rarely do the thing I’m about to do here. But I’ve been inspired to try it by fellow 26 member Neil Baker and his ‘Following the thread’ Substack. Do check it out.
I’ve taken part in many experimental workshops led by Neil. And they’re wonderfully freeing thanks to a thing he’s very good at. The thing I’m giving a go in this month’s piece of writing.
You’ve guessed it (or maybe you haven’t yet): I’m creating for the sake of being creative, I’m writing for writing’s sake, and I’m seeing where it leads. Flow, dear words, take me where you will.
I started this piece with zero idea where I might finish, or what we might spot on the way. A bit like stepping onto whichever bus arrives at the bus stop next. No need to read the destination. Where do I want to go? Anywhere on this occasion, thank you, driver.
So, what is ‘this occasion’? I wonder why I’ve decided to write this way now. Why didn’t I do it last month? Or the month before? I’ve been thinking about my writing life since October’s Wordstock panel discussion.
Work’s been quiet, which has given me the time to reflect. Or the time to reflect at a slower pace than usual.
When you work with brands, the clock to understanding their challenges and offering them helpful insight and answers usually starts ticking before you’ve got your head around the brief. Time is money. And too often creativity is inconvenience. I’ve been writing for brands for over 16 years now. Perhaps it’s had an effect.
The boy who fell in love with the joy of exploring life through words, the creative writer who sailed in seas of language-learning during two English degrees, the young copywriter who liked nothing more than scribbling his messy ideas onto any scrap of paper he could get his inky fingers on, well, he’s now sort of squared at the edges.
Today I am plan. I am structure. I am deadline. I am delivery.
It’s become clear to me, as I write this, that I’ve been taking that approach to these monthly pieces. Plan my destination, check the timetable, double-check the front of the bus, then set off with you. No need to look out of the window, folks, we know what’s coming.
OK perhaps I haven’t done that in all of these monthly pieces. That’s not how I’ve written about love and loss and longing. Those few pieces flowed with my emotions filling the screen.
Also, those pieces provoked the most likes and responses from my readers. I wonder what that tells us about good writing. Anyway, taking a break from writing, I just made an espresso, ate a ginger biscuit and read an interview from The Business of Creativity newsletter I’m subscribed to. It’s with Brian Collins, co-founder and chief creative officer of US design company COLLINS.
I’d like to share with you Brian’s response to the question: ‘What has inspired you lately?’ Here’s what he said:
My youngest nephew recently appeared at my house on Cape Cod in a cardboard crown clearly engineered with tape, optimism, and no adult supervision. Not a single dreary ‘mood board’ was consulted. No humorless Purpose Police had to approve it. The entire enterprise existed solely because of his one decision: I am royalty today.
I love that story, especially the line, ‘I am royalty today’. I love it so much I’ve written it on a Post-it note and stuck it to the wall beside my desk. It’s a reminder. Words not flowing? Deadlines tightening, dulling my spark? Cardboard out. I am royalty today.
I admire Brian for sharing this as his inspiration. There’s something beautiful about being inspired by the everyday stuff of life. The great AI debate seems to be moving along, with many writers on platforms like LinkedIn and Substack now saying they’d never use AI to write for them, just to research, spark their ideas, and inspire them instead. Have they considered: cardboard out, I am royalty today?
Our bus rattles on. I’m finding it difficult to not ask our driver to turn left there, pull over for a while – the urge to bring order to what I’m writing is strong. But we continue through creativity town, via metaphors. We tip our hats to Neil Baker and Brian Collins.
It’s a magical mystery tour today, this writing lark. And look, there’s something on the horizon! Driver, let’s head in that direction for a while. There’s a sign. I think it says: ‘The 20:26 Project’.
Did you receive the invitation to take part, dear 26 member? With 2026 getting close, we’re asking you to reflect on a life-shaping event since the turn of the millennium. You have just 20 words to bring the event to life, and another 26 to explore how you feel it’s shaped you. Email 2026projectinfo@gmail.com to find out more.
And we’re here, wherever ‘here’ is. Somewhere away from where we were. Listen and you’ll hear my favourite song lyric. It’s from ‘Fingers of Love’ by Crowded House. Simply: ‘Colour is its own reward’.
Together we go
How was that for you? A few times I felt lost, but then I remembered you can’t get lost if you have nowhere to be. Try it if you’d like to. Set off on a writing journey, hop on any bus, and notice where you go.
I’ll see you back here in December, just a week before we step with great anticipation into 2026, a very special year for us all.
Onwards,
Rob
If you’d like to know more about Rob’s writing life, explore his new Substack, connect on LinkedIn, or take a look around his studio.