The Write Practice exists to help writers improve their craft through deliberate practice. Through doing this, we get to meet new aspiring writers who are growing in their craft and encouraging and inspiring others. This week we wanted to share with you some fun, inspirational writing quotes from our new friend Kathy Jeffords. (Read more of Kathy's story here.)
Here are eight quotes about writing from Kathy. You can get these awesome writing quotes here on Kathy Jefford's Etsy shop.
1. “The point is…”
2. “Just write one page…”
3. “Edit or regret it.”
4. “I will write until not a single word remains…”
I will write until not a single word remains in my soul . . .
until every story in my heart has been told . . .
until my mind's well of ideas is bone dry . . .
and even then I will write on because writing is not just something I do, but a part of who I am.
—Kathy Jeffords
5. “WRITE some letters make a word…”
WRITE some letters make a word
WRITE some words make a sentence
WRITE some sentences make a page
WRITE some pages make a chapter
WRITE some chapters make a book
—Kathy Jeffords
6. “Your fingers tap dance across the keys…”
your fingers tap dance
across the keys
spilling stories
onto hungry pages
filling afternoons
with prose
your soul flung open
like a window,
sunlight streaming in
—Kathy Jeffords
7. “That second draft will not kill you…”
That second draft will not kill you . . . It may kill some of your characters, (odds of this go up exponentially if you write murder mysteries) but it will absolutely, positively, pinky swear, not kill you. —Kathy Jeffords
8. “You are a writer…”
You are a writer: a sentence-crafting, plot-building, character-creating, spell-checking, story-telling, word-rearranging, suspense-building, character-finishing, bona fide writer and writers write! (So no excuses—start writing!) —Kathy Jeffords
We all need a little inspiration sometimes to encourage us to write. You can check out Kathy's Etsy shop to get these prints and more fun writing quotes.
And of course, now that you're inspired—write!
Which quote is your favorite? (Mine is #6.) Let me know in the comments!
PRACTICE
In light of these inspirational writing quotes, practice writing! Take fifteen minutes to free write and post your practice in the comments. Be sure to give feedback to other writers as well!
Happy inspired writing!
I love all of these- they are true, funny and just delightful!
Thanks for sharing these, Kellie. Good idea to pass along these gems.
Remarkable work, Kathy Jeffords! Beautifully done in such a great variety of styles. Messages are “spot on”!
This is so motivating! Thanks Kellie for the wonderful messages.
Every word has something to encourage the new learners.
Oh my gosh, these are so priceless!! #4 is my favorite, but I love every one of them!! Well done, so wonderful to see how you’ve combined both of your gifts to create such inspiring, wonderful pieces of art!
Here’s my free-write:
This writing was inspired by my sitting here this morning listening to the song of the birds outside, enjoying the nature notes echoing around me. Chief among the choristers I’m hearing are the wrens, busy raising their families and yet not too busy to fill the air with song. No doubt they’re proud of their little broods — at least you’d think so by the sounds of jubilation they’re making.
We have one birdhouse in the poplar trees on the west side of our property and it must be in use, for a goodly amount of song has been coming in the west window all morning. Add to that the little wren pair that have moved into the house we have attached to the clothesline pole. That particular next box always attracts a pair and seeing it’s so open we get to watch them. It’s not far from the nest to the top of the pole, so the wrens take turns sitting up there in the morning and announcing their home and family bliss.
Then there’s the woods just to the east of us. It’s not a huge area but there are a lot of old dead trees what woodpeckers have thoughtfully bored holes in. Plus we’ve put up a few nests among the trees. From the songs drifting in the east windows, there must at least be one wren family nearby at the edge of the yard. All of which makes for lively twitters from three different directions.
Wrens are interesting birds. Tiny, hyper, aggressive. Wrens are cavity nesters, which means they find holes or occupy bird houses even if put up for other, larger species. They won’t stand for other birds in their immediate vicinity so if there are two or three birdhouses they’ll choose one for their one for their home and pack the other(s) full of twigs so no other bird, wren or otherwise, can use it. My job in the fall is to go around and empty out all these nests so we can start fresh in spring. And I tell you, those little mites can really cram a hole full!
They’ll also attack any other bird that happens to try nesting nearby. Tree swallows, bluebirds. Both bigger than a wren but more docile, they are forced to flee when little “mighty mite” shows up. And wrens are the last to show up in spring.
Though they have some rude manners, we’re happy to give them squatters’ rights around our yard because their song is so sweet.
I felt like I was there with you; good job! Though I wasn’t entirely sure what was going on the first paragraph- I didn’t really know when the writing started or when it was you talking about the writing you were going to do.
Yes, I see the confusion. I was doing a live commentary as I wrote, but a person should rather start with “I’m sitting here…”
This was indeed a tool to motivate my fingers to keep typing on this laptop. Thanks, madam.
My favorite quote is #8, but I love them all.
Here’s my free write:
I was quite certain as a child that I would be a writer when I grew up. I hadn’t even written a short story, but I just knew I would author my book. Maybe that assurance came from my constant reading; I was always reading a novel, I lived through the characters and adored the authors. Or maybe the assurance was due to the myriad of stories I had in my little mind, which all bore great resemblance to the books I read. I would probably never ascertain the origin of that childhood assurance, but I know that I grew up thinking of myself as a writer.
What happened to that dream? When did that childhood assurance become grown-up doubts? I can only hazard a guess: procrastination. That famous thief of time, it stole the dream and cast doubts on the assurance. It’s not that I never wrote a thing, I was quite good at compositions in school. However, I never wrote beyond the requirements of my studies. Oh, I would write a piece or another for friends but it was all academic stuff too. I always had plans to work on my “real writing”, the pieces I was writing for school didn’t count as real. I wanted to write so perfectly that I knew I had a lot to learn before I would start. Then procrastination struck, and though I had gathered books on writing, I was always preparing to start learning to be a writer next week or next month.
Well, I don’t want to let go of that dream, I want to be a writer. I don’t know what to write about, so what? I would just write words, they would grow into pages and then a book eventually. My writing is far from prefect, so what? I would write anyway, and keep improving in the process. I will be a writer. No, I am a writer.
The point is: I should be writing!
Don’t let go of your dream. Everything you’ve written here applies to me. I should be writing instead of giving way to umpteen thoughts of doing something else.
Best wishes for your writing.
You sit down, your mind bursting to the brim with the day’s events. You seem a little bit jittery, but you tell yourself that that’s just nerves. Even though you have absolutely no reason to be nervous whatsoever. Your phone is on the desk in front of you, and even as your shaky fingers tap out the passcode, open the phone app, then click on the contact that is labeled with Family, you know that the landline at home will ring on and on and on, and that nobody is there to pick it up. Your old home, you tell yourself. You glance at the clock, where the big hand and the little hand are both positioned exactly at the 3. Only 3 more days till he comes home, your mind whispers. But until then, the silence in your house rings, and the empty rooms give you a feeling of despair. You take up your phone again, and you click on the contact that says Carrot, which makes you smile at first, but then frown again. Of course, the answering machine is full, and therefore you sigh and throw your phone on the bed behind you, which lands with a soft thump. You just need someone right now beside you, to rant to about your day at work, about how your boss had no trouble creating a pile of work for you to do even though Larry, your co-worker, sat around all day munching on a donut and watching funny cat videos on YouTube. To add to the sting, you were about to meet up with one of your best high-school friends, who you hadn’t seen in 10 years, and the minute you threw on your coat, your boss sent you an email filled with files to sort through. Why did your day have to be like this? You decide to stop being so negative, and to try and find a silver-lining in your life. Because this is what you have been doing for the past 5 months since your boyfriend, the mysterious Carrot went off on a business trip. You woke up in the morning, made yourself breakfast, rushed to work, spent mind-numbing hours there, heck, maybe even days in some circumstances, and came home to a silent dark house, with nothing to do, nobody to talk to. Then you made dinner, watched some TV, called Carrot if possible, if he bothered to pick up, and went to bed, staring at the ceiling until your eyes drooped. Then you woke up the next morning and did it again. Only 3 more days, you repeat to yourself determinedly, as your new mantra. Only 3 more days.
I liked it! A tiny bit confusing, but still interesting. The introduction draws you in 🙂
You’ve always had a hard time with the one constant in life: change. Even when for the better. You fought me on every rearrangement of furniture. Every gathering of too-small clothes & toys that I wanted to donate. You refused to acknowledge that your favorite holiday was over. So much so that you wore me down and I let our (artificial) Christmas tree stay up until March. You loved the icicle lights and the ornaments that would gleam as they picked up their reflection.
I was on with the tree being up past Christmas, but after Valentine’s Day, it started to feel a bit ridiculous. Then one day in March I had had enough. I didn’t “snap”, but let’s just say I was determined to get my living room back. It was the day you were home from school and not feeling well. You had fallen asleep on the couch and I decided it was my moment to strike. I quietly removed the ornaments from the tree and packed them away. I unwound the icicle lights from the tree, dismantled it, took it to my room and packed it away in its box, and shoved that bulging box in the closet. I tiptoed back to the living room and re-strung the Christmas lights around the window. Not the same, but not packed away, either. I took a chance. Feeling bold, I pulled out a box of colored lights I had stashed away, and hung those on the baker’s rack in my kitchen. Just as I finished and admired my work, you woke up and completely freaked out. You yelled, you stomped, and ripped down my homemade light show. You admonished me for taking down the tree and told me it had to stay up all year round. I tried to explain that we know Christmas is a very special time of year and that it would be back before you know it. To anyone listening, I bet it sounded like WW3 had just broken out in our apartment. It took a good 2 hours, but you finally came around to accepting the change, and even helped me re-string the lights back to where I had them. Ever since then, you’ve plugged them in every night, and I’ve grown used to the multicolored glow in the kitchen.
Hi Ravenne, the use of second-person is unusual and drew me in. It works though because it’s realistic for a parent to speak or write to their child this way. A letter to a future, older version of the child maybe? I like the concept too. The ‘story’ starts with a conflict and ends with a resolution.
Minor and obvious, but more paragraphing would really help. The giant block of text in para two is very off-putting.
#8- I am a writer. I may not have the words at this present moment, nor do I have the time (or so I tell myself). But I have an abundance of ideas in my head and stories that live between my thoughts, begging that I let them out to enjoy the smoothness and whiteness of a page. But all I need is the man to click the green button. Maybe I should start by explaining who this man is. Well, I do not know this man, but I have always known (or believed) that there is a man who is sitting up some place with a huge desktop in front of him which has all the details of my life, and all the realities, occurrences and schedules. This man controls everything in my life and so I only need him to click on the green button to let my stories out. God knows they need to come out. I can sometimes feel them scratching the inside of my head like a group of blood thirsty parasites. Everyday is a constant battle with my ideas and my dreams of my first book become more overpowering. I have to write. I need to write. Can someone please talk to the man?
Hello Felistus. I enjoyed your post . You write well.Thanks for sharing.
It appears that the man at the desk, in your imagination, is your conscience; that is, your inner ‘you’. You’ll just have to banish him by telling him to go because you want to get on with your work. Let your conscience compel the ‘man’ to click the green the button and set you free.
I hope I’ve helped.
Happy writing.
Hi Lilian,
Thanks for the response, I will need to have a one on one with this man. He has been powerful for too long. He will press the green button. He needs to. Thanks again. 🙂
You are already the winner. Cheers!
This is my free writing 🙂 One thing I realised 15mins is a long time 😉
My favourite quote is number 8. I enjoyed the various descriptions she used to describe what a writer does. This brings a pondering into my mind is it possible to use the whole alphabet in a story. I mean that would be an awesome challenge. I think I will add it to my wondrous list of things I need to write. But in light of what is said above. I will put my bum on the chair and write. It is only in the production of words on paper that a story is created. It may harbour in your mind for many days but until you show up in front of the PC or the notebook armed with the keyboard or pen or pencil or any other tool you use to be a scribe and write the tales that lurk and wonder through your mind they will never have a life of their own. So take a trip through your mind and take all those well composted ideas and write them down freely and spontaneous and once the story has been written then you can go through it and rewrite and check and craft the story into the masterpiece you always dreamed about. Ok, so fellow writers lets stop the daydreaming for the moment and take time out to write each and every day. Let us make a space for 15 minutes of story production and soul outpouring so we can produce ideas and conversations starters for the world to see.
Write the stories of your mind. May you always find the courage to express yourself. I found great inspiration through watching a youtube video from Ray Bradbury. In the video he challenges everyone to read a classic short story, an essay, and a poem over a 1000 days and to write one short story every week for 52 weeks. In the challenge he states it is not possible to write 52 bad stories. I feel that some may be daunted by this challenge but I believe it will be very enlightening and help to give vast ideas for many more stories. Remember you are a writer because there are words and ideas in you which you wish to express to others. So be brave and put the pen to paper or keyboard to screen and write as Kathy Jeffords says until there is no more to write but then still you will write as once the gates are open to the dam of your ideas they will continue to flow.
Free writing. What is free writing? Do you just write anything that comes to mind?
I came to The Write Practice two years ago. I took part in the daily prompts only sporadically. And now I am reminded why. I usually skipped the ones that didn’t offer me a clear goal to write towards. Write a scene where two characters of completely different personalities are forced to work together. Write a scene where two characters misinterpret each other’s intentions. Those, I did. But prompts like this always puzzled me. What is the point of free-writing your response to your ‘favourite quote’? How is this different from asking kindergartners to say their favourite colour and why?
Yes, and this is part of my free-writing exercise. I’m not ‘breaking the rules’ just to complain.
So, my favourite quote. Definitely the first. The point is: you should be writing. Above all else, this is what we writers need to hear. Succintly expressed, to boot.
I love the term ‘aspiring writer’, in a love-hate kind of way. There has never been a greater oxymoron. Just about anyone who’s literate can write. Do we ever hear the terms ‘aspiring runner’, or ‘aspiring teacher’, or ‘aspiring doctor’? Okay, we do, but the obstacles that keep these people as still ‘aspiring’ are just different. An ‘aspiring teacher’ might still be in school, not yet old enough to actually teach. An ‘aspiring doctor’ might be waiting to get that med school acceptance. What do we ‘aspiring writers’ offer as excuses? We have no time. We have writer’s block. We don’t have inspiration. We’re too tired after we’re done with our studies, or our day job, or taking care of our kids. Never has so great an obstacle been created from so minor an inconvenience. Unlike all other ‘aspiring’ professionals, the solution to achieving our dreams lies almost entirely within our control.
Free-writing means you can’t hit the backspace key. And so many times I have stopped myself from doing so already. Perhaps today’s prompt isn’t so bad after all. I realise how compulsively I edit. But free-writing and editing don’t go together. I am a lawyer by day, and the need to be absolutely correct, to relentlessly edit until I get the right point across in the most succinct way possible, sometimes causes me to spend far longer than is necessary or efficient writing and rewriting the same piece of text. A friend gave me a mantra I still really like. ‘Done is better than perfect.’
My online stopwatch shows me I’ve still got 7 minutes to go with this free-writing exercise. Only halfway there. I worry that I’m writing absolute unfiltered drivel, which is already too long and meandering. And I’m actually going to post it for feedback. Why would anyone want to read this, and what value could they possibly derive from it?
My Mac keyboard feels strange. Why does it feel so hard to push the keys? Did I drop the computer and damage it somehow? Okay, focus.
The point is: you should be writing.
I love how Kathy Jeffords quotes herself. Or should I say:
‘I love how Kathy Jeffords quotes herself.’ – Stella Chen
I love self-referential humour. My absolute favourite.
Wait, this article isn’t even by Kathy Jeffords. So technically, she isn’t quoting herself. Oops. My bad.
Okay, my keyboard really is harder to type on. My sister just confirmed it. Now I am fighting that urge to Google ‘Why does my Mac keyboard feel harder to type on?’ But no. The point is: you should be writing. Eliminate all distractions until these 15 minutes are over.
Although I don’t understand how 15 minutes of simply fluidifying thoughts from brain to hand to screen, my shoulder and elbow and fingers as a conduit, adds value to anyone.
Come on, 1.5 minutes to go. Before you can finally Google what the heck is wrong with your keyboard.
One minute ten seconds…
One minute seven seconds…
Really, Stella, is this how you’re going to use up your last minute of writing?
Now you’re just talking to yourself, and when you post this online, everyone in the whole wide world is going to be watching you talk to yourself.
At least they’re on the Internet. You can’t see them facepalm and silently slink away from this strange girl who’s got voices in her head.
Hey, we’ve all got voices in our head here, pal. Why do you think we are writers?
Twelve seconds…
Eight…
Five…
Three…
Two…
RING! Now you can Google what the heck is wrong with your keyboard!
I like your voice 🙂
Thanks Gemma! That’s very encouraging, voice is something so personal to each of us and I’m glad you like it. Haha re the voices in our heads, I’ve often thought that writing is the only time it’s acceptable to have imaginary friends as an adult.
This is comforting. (Yes indeed, Zerelda, other people feel this way.) My favorite thing about free-writing is how…smooth of a read it is. There is no editing, no cherry picking of words from a sentence, and the words flow together the same way they did when they first came to mind. Well, there is editing, but as right now it comes directly after the mistake.
Thanks for commenting! Haha yes, after the exercise I have come to appreciate that part of free-writing too.
This is a story I’m hoping to make a book someday, in which every chapter is a year (starting at age four, which is where this snippet is contained) and every paragraph starts with the words “I remember”. The idea came to me a couple weeks ago around midnight while I was trying to fall asleep. Okay, here goes.
I remember exactly how many steps it took four-year-old me to get from the reading chair to the bookshelf; the sound of my mother’s yellow laughter as my little uncalloused feet padded across the floor, reaching for just one more. My favorite was “The Giving Tree”, but the very last one she always read before tucking me in and kissing my nose was “Goodnight, Moon”; sometimes I would wave at various objects in my room along with the book, clutching a little brown stuffed animal in one hand.
I remember the feel of her fingers as she ran them through my reddish gold hair, already thicker than average, just like everyone on my mom’s side of the family. I recognized the difference between her gentle but work worn hands compared to the brush she used to comb through my nest of curls. She always knew those locks, not exactly fiery but maybe lukewarm, couldn’t be tamed, though she tried anyway.
I remember the texture of cat fur under my fingers as I ran my hands over Molly’s back. She never grew annoyed or exasperated with my chubby, chuckling self, and that feeling never grew dull. Molly didn’t snap like the younger cat, Gunther, did; not even once. It was if she knew I was still learning- how to put the right shoe on the right foot, how to eat spaghetti without staining a shirt red, how to pet a cat properly.
I remember sometimes resting my head on Molly’s stomach, feeling the soft but consistent rise and fall that accompanied each and every breath. We were one- I grew up a cat child. Gray tufts of fur interspersed within my hair discovered later, in the bathtub before bed, floating in the soapy water. The fur clogged up the drain, but so did strands of my hair and my siblings’. My parents couldn’t get mad at me for playing with the cat- we lived in the middle of nowhere and I didn’t go to school yet, so I had no friends but the cats and the caterpillars and occasionally an older sibling who would let me join in on hide and seek just this one time.
I remember touching my mother’s bulging belly while she grinned at me. I didn’t quite understand, but I understood enough to know that the children in our house would soon be six- Miles, Jessica, Maryanne, Andrew, me, and whatever the lump in her stomach would be called. I was still the youngest Tadley, not old enough to warrant a nickname yet. A family tradition was giving a child a nickname based on an event in their life, and I didn’t have any defining features yet. I did have a birthmark on my cheek shaped like a bird in flight- or a check mark, depending on how sugar coated you are- but that didn’t count. The nickname couldn’t be something we were born with, it had to come from you. For example, Andrew’s nickname is Bean because when he was five he decided to set free the jelly beans mom was saving in the cupboard for Halloween. He grabbed the box while no one was looking, climbed to the top of an oak tree, and flung handfuls of jelly jeans all over the yard. Mom wasn’t happy, but as with most things, we laughed about it later on.
I should stop there before I get ahead of myself. Any constructive criticism, feedback, comments? Thanks 🙂
Hi Gemma, thanks for sharing. I think your book concept sounds interesting, but your writing above could be tighter.
There’s this saying I read somewhere that I really liked: that in our information-saturated age, attention is the most valuable resource. Getting and holding someone’s attention for 10 seconds, 30 seconds, 2 minutes, however long it takes for them to read your piece is a skill all of us need to master.
I confess I scrolled past your piece the first time without reading it because a) the opening lines didn’t catch my attention and b) the body didn’t either because it was one giant block of text. Again a minor comment, but paragraphing helps.
One thing I think would improve your writing is for you to ask, what do you want the reader to feel at the end of it? Are we supposed to feel nostalgic? Nodding and going ‘yeah, I remember when I was a kid too…’ Or warm towards your family? Answer this question every reader would have: how am I supposed to interact with your writing? Right now it comes off as you reminiscing about your childhood, and as someone who doesn’t know you, it’s hard to get invested.
Hope this comment is helpful, I know it’s a bit abstract. But hey, I’m learning to give constructive criticism too. We’re all on a learning journey together.
Thank you! I am thirteen and hoping to become an author/teacher when I get older. I have to be perfectly honest, I read the first part of your comment with a scowl on my face, denying this, but then I forced myself to take it in. I had to remind myself, Gemma, you need criticism. You want critism! You ASKED for it.
So thanks for that. (See, I’m already taking into consideration your note about paragraphs 😉 )
Hi Gemma,
I’m glad you’re taking my comments so positively! I’m just starting out at work and many times have given my bosses work that didn’t meet their expectations, so I know how difficult it is to accept negative feedback.
I reread your piece and had some other thoughts I hope are helpful. Yours is a description-heavy piece, so I thought your writing would be more effective if you used the descriptions to establish plot, character or both.
Plot first. First question, what’s the purpose of your book? I don’t know your plot but let me just give an example: you’re telling the story of how your pet died. (Sorry for the morbid example.)
You already describe remembering how Molly’s fur felt, and resting your head on her stomach. A few chapters later you might have lines like ‘I remember the texture of cat fur under my fingers, yet now thinner, more ragged. I remember the first time Molly bit me.’ (As a contrast to how Molly ‘didn’t snap’ like Gunther.) Talk about how more and more fur is clogging up the drain as her health deteriorates. Now it’s not detail for the sake of detail, but detail for the purpose of telling a story. Showing the pain of losing your cat.
You can use description to establish character, too. Different characters notice different things. Don’t just describe a room: a man with a military background might notice strategic hiding places and the nearest exits, an interior designer something else completely.
You have some flat descriptions like how your hair was ‘already thicker than average’. That doesn’t sound like how a thirteen-year-old girl would describe herself. How about something like ‘my hair was already halfway to what my brothers would later term “carrot head”’?
Hope these are helpful! That said, you have an eye for detail, and practicing writing here already puts you ahead of not just other thirteen-year-olds, but many aspiring writers too. Keep writing!
Thanks for sharing, Kellie! These are priceless! Very inspiring and uplifting indeed!
ChatEbooks recently posted https://www.chatebooks.com/blog-10-FAQs-on-Choosing-and-Using-the-Right-Pen-Name-to-Write-Under
Re writing drawing from real life – isn’t that true for all of us? All I can say is, it would be ironic if one day ‘you’ manage to take down the Christmas tree and for the rest of the year feel like something is missing.
Haha! Yes it would. When you live with a “forever child” who tried to invent “Second Christmas” to get more presents and enjoys Christmas music all year round, the spirit of Christmas is never far away. And no, I don’t miss the tree! 🙂
I love all of these so much! Thank you guys for sharing! ♥
no.4 is my favorite because it give you confidence to write your thoughts and feeling.For improving your critical thinking skills