My Writing Process: Chaos, Coffee, and Controlled Burnout

Let’s get one thing straight: my writing process isn’t pretty. It’s not polished. And it definitely doesn’t involve waking up at 5 a.m. to sip herbal tea while journaling about my intentions.

Nope.

My process is more like this: a late-night spark of inspiration, too much caffeine, a Google Doc filled with chaotic outlines, and a playlist that sounds like a villain origin story.
And somehow—somehow—a book like Romero is born.

If you’ve ever wondered how the madness turns into a finished novel, here’s the real, raw look behind the scenes.

☕ Step 1: The Spark (a.k.a. “What If?”)

Every book I write starts with a single what if?
For Romero, it was:

What if the person pulling the strings behind the world's biggest tech empires had a conscience—and it was starting to eat him alive?

That one question led to a character. That character demanded a world. And the world quickly started to unravel into something much bigger than I expected.

Sometimes the spark is a scene, a conversation, or even a line of dialogue I can’t stop hearing in my head. But once it’s there, I chase it.

🧠 Step 2: Brainstorming in Chaos

Before I ever open a document labeled “Chapter One,” I create what I call The Mess File.

It’s where all the ideas live: character backstories, snippets of dialogue, worldbuilding notes, moodboards, Google search history that could land me on a watchlist… you name it.

There’s no order. No logic. Just a pile of creative clay I know I’ll eventually shape into something that works.

📑 Step 3: The Skeleton Draft

Outlines? Yes—but loosely.

I like to know my beginning, my end, and a few major moments in between. I don’t map every beat. I leave space for discovery, because that’s where the magic happens.

Then I write a skeleton draft: fast, rough, and messy. It’s not about getting it right—it’s about getting it out. No editing, no second-guessing. Just forward momentum and a lot of late nights.

🔥 Step 4: Controlled Burnout

This is the part no one likes to talk about: the crash.

I hit a point in every book where I question everything—my plot, my talent, my sanity. I call it controlled burnout because, unlike real burnout, I’ve learned to expect it, work through it, and keep showing up anyway.

Coffee helps. So does walking away for a day. But most importantly, I remind myself that writing is hard. It’s supposed to be. If it were easy, everyone would be doing it (and finishing it).

✂️ Step 5: Ruthless Revision

Once the draft is done, the real work begins. I strip it down. Cut scenes. Kill darlings. Rearrange everything.

Editing is where the book becomes the book.

I read it aloud. I send it to trusted readers. I rewrite entire sections if I have to. Because no matter how good a first draft feels—it can always be better.

📚 Final Thoughts: Imperfect but Inevitable

My writing process isn’t linear. It’s not clean. But it’s mine—and it works. Every finished novel is the result of chaotic creativity, caffeine-powered nights, and a whole lot of stubborn persistence.

If you’re a writer struggling to find your rhythm, here’s my advice:
Don’t wait for perfect. Write your messy draft. Chase the spark. Burn out if you must, then come back stronger.

Romero wouldn’t exist if I hadn’t done exactly that.