Writing Through Grief, Glamour, and Glitter: My December Writing Rituals

December Isn’t Just a Month — It’s a Mood Swing Wearing Lights

December is dramatic. Let’s be honest.
It shows up every year like, “Surprise! Here’s a sparkly emotional ambush plus a side quest of existential dread.”

For indie authors, it’s even more intense.
It’s the only month where we somehow feel:

exhausted,
sentimental,
inspired,
overwhelmed,
grieving old versions of ourselves,
craving glamour,
craving rest,
craving a break from everything we’re craving.

And through all of this, we’re supposed to… write?

You know what?
Yes.
But gently.

December writing isn’t about productivity.
It’s about rituals.
Tiny anchors.
Small, grounding moments that help us feel like ourselves in a month where emotions behave like toddlers with glitter.

These are the rituals that carry me through December — the grief, the nostalgia, the beauty, the chaos, the softness — and keep my creativity alive even when my brain is performing a seasonal circus act.

The December Emotional Cocktail (Heavy on the Memory, Light on the Logic)

December has a way of bringing everything back up — even things we thought we buried under seven drafts and a to-do list.

There’s grief for things we lost,
grief for things we never got,
grief for the version of ourselves from last December.

There’s nostalgia for childhood warmth.
There’s a longing for magic.
There’s pressure to feel cheerful even when we’re tired to the bone.

This emotional mix doesn’t kill creativity — it feeds it.
As long as we don’t try to control it.

December writing rituals exist to help us ride the emotional wave — not fight it.

Ritual 1: The Slow Start (Because December Brains Need Time to Boot Up)

Forcing yourself into writing in December is like trying to sprint in knee-deep snow.
It’s exhausting.
It’s unnecessary.
It makes you want to quit everything and become a pine tree.

So the first ritual is simple:

Wake the creativity, don’t demand from it.

Here’s how:

Light something (a candle, incense, a lamp).
Make something warm (tea, cocoa, coffee, whatever saves your soul).
Touch something comforting (a soft blanket, a warm mug, your pet if they approve).
Open your manuscript and do nothing. Just… exist near it.

If words come, welcome them.
If not, don’t panic.
Half of the December writing ritual is showing up to your story without pressure.
Creativity follows warmth, not force.

Ritual 2: Let Your Emotions into the Room

December is emotionally charged, and pretending otherwise is pointless.

So here’s a radical suggestion:

Write with your emotions, not against them.

If you’re grieving, write a scene where a character processes something heavy.
If you’re nostalgic, write something soft and warm.
If you’re lonely, write connection.
If you’re overwhelmed, write something simple.

Your December emotions are not distractions.
They’re invitations.

This is the month where your writing isn’t meant to be polished.
It’s meant to be felt.

Ritual 3: The 10-Minute Candle Sprint

This ritual saves me every December.

Light a candle.

Write until it finishes burning.
Then stop.

Not the whole candle — a tiny one.
A tealight.
A sliver of wax.
Something that burns for just long enough to keep you focused but not long enough to drain you.

Ten minutes.
Fifteen.
You’d be shocked how much writing happens when your brain knows the effort is limited.

When you stop early — yes, early — your creativity learns trust.

Ritual 4: A Touch of Glamour (Because Writers Deserve Sparkle Too)

This is the ritual no one talks about, but every December writer needs:

Add something to your writing life that feels luxurious.

Not expensive. Luxurious.

Examples:

A new pen that glides.
A notebook that makes you feel like a witch librarian.
Soft socks that trick your nervous system into calming down.
Fairy lights behind your desk.
A playlist that feels like romantic winter mischief.
Writing by the tree lights instead of your desk lamp.

A little glamour helps your brain remember that writing is allowed to feel good.

You’re not a machine.
You’re a creator.
And creators thrive on beauty.

Ritual 5: Winter Walk Storyboarding

Every December, take one walk.
Just one.
You don’t even have to be in nature — a sidewalk works fine.

The cold resets your brain.

The quiet resets your story.

Think about:

your next plot twist,
a character’s emotional wound,
your ending,
or absolutely nothing.

Sometimes the best writing ritual is giving your creativity oxygen.

Ritual 6: The “Not This Year” List

This is my favorite December ritual because it clears more space for writing than any planner ever could.

Make a list of everything you’re not willing to drag into the new year:

a plotline that isn’t working
a social media strategy that drains you
guilt about unfinished drafts
pressure to keep up with other authors
burnout disguised as ambition
deadlines you didn’t choose

December writing improves dramatically when you lighten your emotional load.

Creativity can’t bloom in a crowded room.

Ritual 7: Slow Storytelling (The December Drafting Method)

December is not the month for speed.
It’s the month for depth.

Write scenes slowly.
Rewrite sentences gently.
Let your characters breathe.
Let the world expand without forcing structure.

December is reflective.
Your writing can be too.

This is where some of your most emotionally honest work will surface — not because you’re trying, but because the season cracks you open a little.

Ritual 8: End with Something Warm

Before you put your pen down, before you close your laptop, do one of the following:

Read a paragraph you love.
Note what happens next.
Thank your future self for showing up.
Whisper something nice to your draft (yes, really).
Close with a warm drink ritual.

Ending softly trains your brain to return without resistance.

December is hard enough.
Your writing shouldn’t be.

The Real Magic of December Writing

Writing in December isn’t about productivity.
It’s about presence.

It’s about showing up gently to your story when the world is too loud.
It’s about letting your emotions join the creative process.
It’s about finding small rituals that make the page feel like home.
It’s about remembering that writing is not just work — it’s connection, healing, and magic.

December writing is human writing.
Vulnerable writing.
Alive writing.

And honestly?
That’s the kind that stays with readers the longest.

Your Call to Action (Warm & Real)

If you want more behind-the-scenes author talk, cozy rituals, writing truths, and creative support, come join my newsletter.

It’s warm.
It’s human.
It’s honest.
It’s everything December writing needs.

Sonia M. Rompoti, MSc, Bsc

🧿 The articles didn’t ghost you. Click the 🟰 icon and they’ll come running. They, sometimes, like playing hide and seek 🤷🏼‍♀️↗️