I have a questions as a writer.
What if I lived by simply letting life guide me—reading widely, trusting the process, and believing that good writing will come naturally—rather than constantly worrying about making a big impact or achieving major success?
What if I once in a while confronted big ideas, tackled ambitious projects (like novels that offer a grand diagnosis of society or propose major change), and then intentionally cycled back to trusting the process again?
I want to live a relatively quiet life (in solitude) while still doing meaningful good for others.
I’m a slow reader and I constantly stress about how many books I’ve finished. I’m trying to break that habit and just enjoy reading at my own pace. I’m drawn to stories that wrestle with big ideas — Brave New World, 1984, We by Yevgeny Zamyatin, and right now I’m reading The Constant Gardener and Crime and Punishment.
I was really inspired to hear that Charles Dickens’ writing helped lead to the closure of the Marshalsea Debtor’s Prison. Having lived with special needs, I feel I have a unique perspective. I want to write books that offer both a diagnosis of problems in society and practical, tangible solutions — especially around health, education, and supporting people with disabilities.
Naturopathy and the Eaton Arrowsmith program made a big difference in my life. I don’t think I would be where I am today if I had relied only on traditional academics. I’d love to write something in the spirit of Aldous Huxley’s Island — a vision of a city where health is truly prioritized and people with special needs are given real tools and support so they can become creators and independent contributors, rather than living entirely dependent on their parents. (I don’t fully agree with Huxley’s ideas about “doing less,” though.)
Ultimately, I want to write books that inspire compassion, creativity, and uncomfortable but necessary reflection — the kind of stories that could influence real-world change, the way Jules Verne inspired generations of scientists and engineers.
At the same time, I don’t want to fall into paralysis worrying about reading enough or creating something “big.” I’m trying to trust the process: read what interests me, live my life, write consistently, and let good work come naturally — while occasionally swinging back toward ambitious projects.
Does this approach make sense? Has anyone else found a healthy balance between quiet living, steady reading/writing, and still aiming for work that matters?
At the same time, I don’t want to fall into writer’s paralysis or produce work that feels meaningless. I’m trying to find a sustainable rhythm: mostly letting life guide me, reading at my own pace, trusting the process, and writing consistently — while periodically swinging into ambitious projects that tackle big ideas and big solutions.
I don’t want to lower my output or settle for less. Is this balanced approach realistic? Can trusting the process coexist with high standards and real ambition, or will it inevitably lead to less productivity and impact?
I aim to create work that combines Jonathan Swift-style sharpness with big diagnoses of society’s failures, ambitious ideas about human potential, and concrete, actionable solutions.