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Letters From Libby James

I’ve been thinking about why I’m not showing up for my art


January 3, 2025

Last month, I set a creative goal at my accountability group: 40 pages a month. It was bold, but it was clear, and it felt like the kind of goal that could get me closer to finishing my novel.

And I failed. Like, spectacularly failed. Didn’t come close. Barely glanced at it over the month. Epic-level failure.

At first, I wanted to chalk it up to the usual suspects: the holidays, the chaos of divorce, the to-do lists, the excuses blah blah blah. But then, in a quieter moment, a harder truth hit me: I haven’t been prioritizing my novel. And if I haven’t been showing up for it, can I really say it matters to me?

That thought stung. A lot. Because I do care about this book. I care about the story, the characters, the little spark of creative energy that made me want to write it in the first place. But if I keep saying it matters without proving it with my time, my energy, my rituals—what does that say about me?

And yet, here’s the flip side—the part I want both of us to hold onto:

Our art matters even when we’re not showing up perfectly.

The world needs your creativity. It needs my creativity. It needs all of us to put something out there that’s real and meaningful and entirely ours. And that’s true even on the days we’re messy about it. Even when we fail epically at our goals.

Because creativity isn’t about perfection. It’s about connection. It’s about staying tethered to that part of yourself that makes something from nothing, that spins thoughts into stories, that takes risks on the page (or the canvas, or the stage).

So here’s the pep talk I need—and maybe you do too:

Your art matters. My art matters. Showing up for it matters.
Even if it’s not every day. Even if it’s not perfect.
But we have to decide that it matters enough to prioritize it.

For me, that means recommitting to my creative rituals. Not as a chore, but as a lifeline back to what makes me feel most alive. It means carving out time—even when it’s inconvenient—because I know that writing my book matters more than rearranging my spice rack or bingeing another show.

And you know what? It’s not too late. Not for me, not for you. Whether you’ve been crushing your creative goals or avoiding them altogether, you can always start again. Creativity is forgiving like that.

So let’s prioritize what matters. Let’s protect it fiercely. Let’s remind ourselves that the act of creating—even badly, even in fits and starts—is a radical, beautiful thing.

Recommit. You with me?

Sending creative energy your way,

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Lindy Alexander | The Freelancer's Year

Freelance food and travel writer | Course creator

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Letters From Libby James

I help writers strengthen their writing and creative practice, navigate the publishing world, and turn their art into an act of rebellion.

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