Anne Freeman is an Australian women’s fiction author who writes about women who are stuck in life and the extraordinary ways they shake themselves loose.
This is part of the Interviews with Creatives series, a curated library of conversations from the Creative Momentum with Meg podcast.
Anne is a planner. She plots her life as well as her novels, tracks her word counts in a spreadsheet and has developed a writing process that takes her from an initial idea through character exploration, plotting and drafting. But the part of our conversation that stayed with me was not the spreadsheet or the word count. It was Anne’s insistence that she cannot wait for inspiration to arrive.
“I think that it’s really important for me to lead with an intention to write rather than try to chase the feeling of wanting to write,” she told me. The feeling of flow comes after she has made the commitment and sat down to work. First, she has to put her bum on the seat.
There is something reassuring in that distinction. We often imagine that writers begin when an idea arrives fully formed or when the desire to write becomes irresistible. Anne’s experience is different. Sometimes her ideas come tentatively, one at a time. Sometimes she has to go looking for them, reading feature articles until something catches her attention. And on the days when the words refuse to flow, she keeps going towards the word count she has set herself.
Her process is practical without pretending that writing is always easy. On a dedicated writing day, her target is 1,750 words. On days filled with other work or family responsibilities, she might write 250. That smaller amount helps her remain connected to the manuscript rather than having to find her way back into it after several days away. It is a way of recognising the life she actually has, not waiting for an imaginary stretch of uninterrupted time.
Anne is also candid about the things that make writing more complicated. She lives with type 1 diabetes and Hashimoto’s disease, and the fatigue that comes with the latter can be significant. Writing and reading, however, remain comforts. In our conversation, she describes the vulnerability of drawing on her own experience of invisible disability for her novel The Time After Now, and the unexpected feeling of being caught by readers who have responded to that work.
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Prefer to listen? This conversation first appeared on Creative Momentum with Meg. Listen below or continue reading the full transcript.
That willingness to write from close to home connects with another idea Anne returns to: trusting your own perspective. In her writing workshops, she encourages people to tap into their ‘inner weirdo’. We all see the world in an original way, she says, but we do not always pay attention to that perspective or trust that it is worth sharing. For Anne, that is where writing can move beyond cliché and offer a reader something they have not quite encountered before.
So perhaps the invitation here is twofold. Make a practical commitment to the work, even when inspiration is absent. And once you are there, pay attention to what only you can notice. You do not have to wait to become a different kind of person before you begin. You can start with the life, the time and the perspective you have.
In this interview we explore
- Why Anne leads with intention instead of waiting for inspiration.
- The writing process she has developed, from idea seed and writing prompts to plotting and daily word goals.
- How small writing targets can keep a project alive during busy weeks.
- Finding ideas by going out to look for them, rather than waiting for a rush of inspiration.
- Writing with chronic illness and the comfort creative work can offer.
- Why women’s stories can build empathy, and why Anne encourages writers to trust their own perspective.
- Giving yourself permission to begin before you feel ready.
Read the full conversation below, or listen to the episode above.
Conversation with Anne Freeman
AF: I’m Anne Freeman, a women’s fiction author. I write about women who are stuck in life and the extraordinary ways they shake themselves loose. I’m also a social media content creator, and I work in marketing, publicity and branding.
MD: I’ve had the pleasure of meeting you face-to-face at a number of literary events. I’m sure people who are involved in the Melbourne writing scene, and probably the Australian writing scene more broadly, have met you somewhere along the way.
AF: I try to get out and support people.
Creative Routine
MD: Do you have a routine for your creative work?
AF: I really do. A question writers often get is whether they’re a plotter or a pantser. My response is always, “I’m a plotter, but I plot my whole life. So why would this one area of my life be any different?” I’m a highly organised person. I think it’s really important for me to lead with an intention to write rather than chase the feeling of wanting to write. That feeling of inspiration, where you just have to sit down and write, doesn’t really come for me in the first instance. It follows when I make a commitment and sit down to write. That beautiful feeling of flow comes later. So I have to put my bum on the seat.
When I’m writing a novel, I have a process I’ve developed over a number of years. I’ve just released my third novel, and during that time I’ve come to understand myself better. I’ve nailed the process that works for me. I start with an idea seed and then embark on a wonderful journey of discovery. I use writing prompts to explore my characters and their world. I do a deep dive, and usually end up with a separate document of writing exercises. I might write about 20,000 words in those exercises, then put them to one side and do my plotting.
I use a three-act structure with 15 beats. I plot that out and loosely outline each chapter. Then I commence writing. When it’s time to draft, I work to a daily word goal. That number changes depending on my other responsibilities. If I’m working at either of my two part-time jobs, I might have a lower target than on a day when I can dedicate most of the day to writing. On a big writing day, my goal is 1,750 words. On other days, when I’m doing other work or spending the weekend with my family, I might write just 250 words, which is nothing.
It’s about half a page. I usually do that when I’m sitting on my yoga mat and haven’t done yoga yet. It helps me remain in the project and in that world, so I don’t come back after many days away and think, “Where am I?” By writing 250 words on those otherwise occupied days, I get at least another 1,000 words a week. When I’m actively writing a new project, I write about 5,000 words a week and can finish a draft in about four months.
MD: That is so impressive. I’m sure every writer listening is going, “Whoa.”
AF: I feel like I’m very stubborn. That’s the secret. There are days when the words aren’t flowing and it feels like pulling teeth, but I’ll write to 1,750 words no matter how awful it feels. The interesting thing is that when I go back and read that draft, I can’t tell the difference between the days that felt amazing and the days that felt awful. There’s something to be said for pushing through those feelings. Don’t do what I do, though. It’s probably really unhealthy.
MD: I think there’s something in that, particularly what you said about leading with intention. We’re not always going to feel like turning up to write. Sometimes you sit there and watch the cursor blinking away.
AF: My God, why is it staring at me like that? What do you actually want from me?
MD: That’s why I’m in a bad mood. I don’t feel like writing, and it’s still blinking at you. But if you can lead with intention, you can say, “I’m here to write, and I’ve got this amount of time.” How long do you sit and write?
AF: I sit there until the words are down, so sometimes I’ll achieve that by lunchtime. That’s rare, to be honest. I do a lot of staring off into the middle distance. I’m one of those people.
Some people say, “I’ll fix it later.” I’m searching for the word. What is the word I’m looking for? That’s probably counterproductive, but I sit there and get the words down. I keep a spreadsheet that shows exactly how many words I’ve written each day, with a lovely cumulative total. I feel a sense of achievement at the end of the day when I’ve nailed it.
MD: Yay, you’re in the Team Spreadsheeter. I’m slowly gathering a team of spreadsheet writers here.
AF: And I’m proud too. I will not be shamed for my love of spreadsheets.
MD: I love a spreadsheet.
AF: I’ve reached a stage in my life where I think, “You know what? This is who I am, and you can love it or leave it.”
MD: I spreadsheet everything in my life. Why wouldn’t I do my writing?
AF: Christmas holidays, celebrations, catering, all of it. Everything goes into a spreadsheet. It makes me feel like I’m in control of things I probably am not in control of.
MD: It goes along with the same people who love checklists and to-do lists.
AF: That’s me. It’s a dopamine hit, isn’t it, when you cross something off? Achievement. Take that!
MD: For anyone who hasn’t tried it, you can write a list and put something you’ve already done on that date, then you get your first hit.
AF: Add it and cross it. Absolutely. I’m team add it and cross it.
Creative Process
MD: Tell me, Anne, how do you go from an idea to “there it is”? Talk us through that.
AF: I think I’m in the minority because ideas don’t come in a rush for me. My ideas are very orderly, and often I have to go and seek them out and gently lead them back to my desk. They’re not really sure they want to come with me. I know writers who have the enviable problem of all their ideas arriving at once and not knowing which one to take up. That isn’t me. My ideas come one at a time and approach tentatively.
My question is whether the idea is robust enough. Is the central theme strong enough that I can pin all the other plot points to it and it won’t collapse? That’s my test.
Finding ideas is intention-led too. I’m just finishing my fourth manuscript, and I didn’t have an idea, but I wanted to write a fourth novel. So I sat at my desk and started trawling news sites for interesting feature articles, things that weren’t already top of mind for me. I came across an article about modern slavery in Australia. That became the idea I germinated into my fourth women’s fiction novel, which I’ve been working on today. I’m at the drafting stage.
I’d like to write a fifth manuscript next year, and I have no ideas yet. So I’ll decide that this is the week I’m looking for ideas. It’s like putting on weatherproof clothes, pulling on sturdy boots, packing a lunch and heading out into the wilderness to hunt down ideas and drag them back to my desk.
MD: Once you’ve got to the end of that first draft, do you set it aside for a while or go straight back into it?
AF: With my first manuscript, I didn’t know what I was meant to do. I wrote the end, went straight back to chapter one and started moving commas around. I thought I was editing. I had no idea. Since then, I leave it for a while. I’ve been promoting my third novel, so I put the fourth manuscript to one side and threw myself into publicity and promotion. This week I’ve returned to it, and the last time I touched it was last September. It’s been a full year. There’s something to be said for coming back with fresh eyes. I’m delighting in it. It hasn’t got the fatigue that comes with the seventeenth read-through in a row. There are things I’d forgotten, and I’m reading almost as a reader, riding the twists, turns and reveals as if for the first time. I’m laughing at my own jokes. What’s wrong with me? I share an office with my husband, and he asks, “Funny, is it?”
MD: Have you made yourself cry with any of your books?
AF: Always. I make myself laugh and cry. And with the sex scenes, you need to take a little moment for yourself. Otherwise, what have you achieved?
MD: You’ve got to feel moved by it.
AF: Exactly. Otherwise, why bother? I love making people cry. I’m a serial offender. I get messages saying, “I’m sobbing,” and I’m like…
MD: …send me your jar of tears!
AF: Pretty much.
MD: You’re also a mum and you’re working two part-time jobs. How are you fitting everything in?
AF: The main answer is that I don’t have time to procrastinate. There’s a lot of time we spend avoiding the thing we really want to do. I’m not talking about procrastinating over cleaning the bathroom, which you hate doing. I’m talking about our creative pursuits and the things that bring us joy. It’s extraordinary how much we try to avoid them. Humans, why are we like this? It makes no sense. I don’t really have time to procrastinate, so I lead with intention. I would like a creative life, and therefore I prioritise time for it.
I don’t work full-time. I have two part-time jobs, and I work remotely, so I don’t have a commute. My children’s school is a three-minute walk from my house, so I don’t have the time in the car that a lot of people have. I get in there and do what needs to be done, across all areas of life.
MD: Do you mind if we touch on chronic health?
AF: Let’s go there. Does my face not already speak of it?
MD: You look like gorgeous Anne.
AF: Glasses and a headscarf hide a multitude of sins.
MD: And a bit of lippy.
AF: That’s why people say I always wear such nice, bright shades. I don’t like looking like a corpse.
MD: You have chronic health conditions. How has that affected you as a writer, and how do you write despite it?
AF: I have two autoimmune conditions. I have type 1 diabetes, which means constant blood glucose monitoring and insulin injections in order to live. I also have Hashimoto’s disease, an underactive thyroid, which I treat with supplements as well as medication. That’s the one that really throws me around in terms of energy levels.
Sitting at my desk isn’t physical. I don’t know that I could run a marathon, but I can sit at my desk and write even when I’m in the pit of exhaustion. Reading and writing are great comforts for me. My best friend describes it as dragging your own corpse around, as though you’re a dead body you have to heave around. Even when I’m dragging myself around, I can sit at my desk and it feels like relief. I hope it also brings layered characters to my work. The novel that has just come out, The Time After Now, is an own-voices depiction of invisible disability, based on my 24 years of experience.
I felt very vulnerable writing from a place of experience and, in some cases, trauma. It has been the most rewarding experience. I didn’t anticipate the reaction. I didn’t know how it would be received, and I feel as though I leapt and readers caught me. I really encourage writers to go there, to go deep. It’s scary, but do it anyway.
MD: Write as close as you can.
AF: Mine that trauma for all it’s worth. It’s cheaper than therapy. Go down into the sludge of your subconscious, pull out some grimy thing and see if you can polish it. I highly recommend it.
Creative Inspiration
MD: Where do you draw inspiration from for your writing?
AF: I look at people who write historical fiction, fantasy and science fiction and wonder how they do it. I’m going around my normal world, being inspired by the women I know, the friendships I’m fortunate enough to have, and things I find frustrating or perplexing. I like to explore my problems and passions. I go into things that fascinate me and do a deep dive, teasing them out and seeing if I can solve something. Usually, I’m doing it for myself, honestly, drawing from my life. I write women’s fiction. I write about women who are like me and my peers. I find women fascinating. We contain multitudes, and I love getting down into those layers.
MD: And we do. More women’s stories.
AF: The great thing is that men read women’s fiction too. Everyone listening will know that the only thing that makes it women’s fiction is that the protagonist is a woman. What the hell? I’ve had some of the best reviews from men. The more we see these stories, the better it will be in so many spaces. Reading increases empathy. If children ask what I would wish for, my answer is always that everyone in the world had more empathy. I really believe that one wish would fix everything that’s wrong with the world: our environment, men’s violence against women, racism, all of it. People who read are shown to have more empathy. Reading stories about lives that don’t look exactly like ours helps with that.
MD: So, blokes who are listening, read some women’s fiction.
AF: You’ll love it. It’s not a hardship. It’s a banger.
Filling The Creativity Cup
MD: When you’re feeling depleted, how do you refill your cup?
AF: Reading is always my go-to. It lets me be sedentary, which I really enjoy. Being still is one of my favourite things. Reading also gives me a break from myself so I can wear someone else’s life for a little while. It gives me a break from my own insecurities, anxieties and imposter syndrome. It turns the dial down because I’m living someone else’s life now. And spending time with people I love. Those are the surefire things.
MD: That’s another great reason to read a book.
AF: Reading! Do people know? People who don’t read? You’re living one probably mediocre life all the time when you could be anything. You could ride a dragon if you wanted.
Creative Wisdom
MD: If you were talking with someone who feels a little stuck, or is thinking about dipping a toe into writing or another creative pursuit, what wisdom would you share?
AF: I teach writing workshops, as you do. I take a moment to talk about mindset and confidence, because you can have all the writing craft tools in the world, but if you don’t have the confidence to use them, that knowledge remains theoretical. At the end of my short story writing workshop, I talk a little about mindset. I say to the class, “If you are waiting for someone to give you permission to write, then I give you that permission now.”
Who am I to give permission for anything? But the energy changes in the room. You can tell there are people who are waiting and unsure, and it’s symbolic to pass them that permission to write.
I let people know that anybody can give it a go. You will experience the discomfort of learning something new. It is uncomfortable, but you move through it, and you can only write through it. Your first words on the page can’t be a masterpiece. None of us have that experience, not even your literary hero. Having the audacity to try is important. It doesn’t have to be about the outcome. It can be about your sense of achievement, stretching your creativity and the way it makes you feel. It replenishes you. So many things in life take away from us, and we need to protect the things that fill our cups.
MD: For anyone who needs permission to do the thing, this is it. You have permission to do it.
AF: Absolutely. I started writing when I had two children under three. I had a baby in arms and wrote my first book in the Google Docs app on my iPhone while I was breastfeeding her. I don’t recommend that.
Home for Creativity
MD: What feels like home for you and your writing?
AF: That’s such an interesting and abstract question. I get enormous pleasure from the tension between creatively stretching myself and coming up with something uniquely me: my voice and my thoughts. In my writing workshops, I encourage people to tap into their own inner weirdo, because the antidote to cliché is original thinking. We all have an original worldview, but we don’t always listen to it or look at the world through it. If we can take that step and observe the world through our own perspective, including our inner world and our emotional and physical responses, we can tap into our inner weirdo. Then we describe that to the reader, and the reader stops in their tracks. Clichés are everywhere.
There’s a moment when you put the book down to ponder a passage you’ve just read. It cuts through all the noise and everything the reader has heard before. They’ve never heard the world described quite that way, and it resonates with something in their soul. You can achieve that if you trust your inner weirdo. It’s mindfulness and almost activism: the audacity to think that what you have to share with the world is worthy. And it is. You little nut job, we want to hear from you.
Connect with Anne
Anne Freeman writes contemporary fiction about women who are stuck in life and the extraordinary ways they shake themselves loose. Her stories are always engaging and sometimes funny with thrilling adventures, sexy escapades and friendships that uplift.
- Instagram: @annefreemanwrites/
- Website: https://www.annefreeman.com.au/
- Subscribe to Anne’s updates: https://www.annefreeman.com.au/subscribe
- The Time After Now at Hawkeye Books
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Creative Momentum with Meg, a podcast of conversations with creatives
This interview originally appeared on the Creative Momentum with Meg podcast, where I talk with writers and creatives about how and why they do their creative work.
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S2E32: Anne Freeman, women’s fiction author and champion of the inner weirdo – Creative Momentum with Meg
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