Flexibility Within Structure - Finding a Framework That Lets My Creativity Thrive

As a creative, I need to feel free.

That instinct is core to my personality. I want to follow a thread of inspiration, get deep in a flow, or take a spontaneous outing to a new writing spot. I need to feel untethered and able to stretch my wings in order to create.

But if I’m left entirely to my own devices, I will disappear so deeply in the creative pocket that I will miss a doctor’s appointment, get a parking fine, or forget to pick my kids up. And if I’m honest, I’m probably not being all that effective with my time either.

I’ve learned that I thrive with flexibility within structure.

I need a framework. A schedule. Deadlines. A plan. Otherwise, nothing gets finished.

🔹 Applying This as a Writer

I wrote my first novel as a self-described “panster.” I threw myself into the draft with no plan, working on the bits that pulled me, with no order or bigger vision.

And truthfully, I loved that freedom. I wrote a lot, and I learned a lot.

But the novel ended up too long (around 113,000 words), and I had another 50,000 words that ended up in the bin. Without an outline to work against, it became a huge and overwhelming task. I had to try to impose structure retrospectively: wrestling an unwieldy draft into shape.

Now, working on my second novel, I am being much more intentional with structure. 

I use the Save The Cat Writes A Novel framework to guide the direction of the story. I still follow what inspires me, but within a tried-and-tested container.

And interestingly, it’s often within those constraints that I’m most creative.

🔹 What This Looks Like in ‘Real Life’

I use the same approach outside of writing.

I’m the one who cooks and plans meals for our family of four. I know people who have fully automated systems—Monday is pasta, Tuesday is steak.

Sounds efficient. My free spirit, however, is horrified.

“I need choice,” I insist. “I need freedom!” I scream into the open door of my fridge. “Stop trying to nail my wings down!”

So instead, I plan for around five meals each week (structure), but decide what to cook on the day (flexibility). I keep one takeaway night in my back pocket for when I just can’t face it—or, let’s be honest, when I feel like it.

That balance works for me: enough structure to keep things moving, enough flexibility to still feel human.

🔹 How I Plan My Week

I plan on a weekly basis, rather than daily.

This gives me room for both my goals and the reality that life doesn’t always go to plan. As a parent—and as someone living with chronic pain—I often need to shift tasks from one day to another.

A weekly structure means I still make progress without feeling like I’m constantly “kicking the can down the road,” or letting myself down.

Freedom within a framework—that’s where my best work happens.