Reader,

I don't know about you, but being playful doesn't come naturally to me, especially when it comes to writing.

This little newsletter is a great example. Every Wednesday, when I sit down to write this, I feel a pang of worry. "Will I be able to say something important?"

It's a silly question. And whenever I let it take the driver's seat, I'm dissatisfied with the results. But its voice always ring loud in my head. If I can't deliver something meaningful, what's the point of writing at all?

If you've read — or, even better, written — your way through Embrace Your Writer's Block, you'll recognize that my practice is at odds with what I teach. Its second section, called "Recover Your Silly Side," is all about reconnecting with a childlike sense of wonder and play. I think it's a foundational exercise for all writers, even as I recognize that it's a personal point of struggle.

How perfect, then, that I've been invited to teach "Recovering a Sense of Play in Your Writing" as part of The Porch's IGNITE! A Writing Camp for Adults.

I'm excited to be a part of this weeklong camp. Every night, a different writer will offer their experience on foundational topics like jumpstarting your writing practice and the art of inspiration. And at the end of the week, there'll be an open mic where students (and others) get to share their writing and celebrate the writing of others.

I'm also daunted. It's one thing to write a one-page reflection about being playful as a writer. It's a whole 'nother deal to lead a 2-hour class about it.

That's why I'm dubbing this summer "the summer of play."

As I've done in the past, I'm going to use this space to flesh out both my thoughts and my practice(s). Partly because I know that writing about something is just about the best way to learn it. And partly because I suspect I'm not the only writer out there who'd like to be more playful.

Some entries will interact with people writing about play (like the fantastic Katy Bowser Hutson, who's writing a Play Book that I can't wait to get my hands on). Others will simply be exercises of play, creative bits where I put these playful ideas into practice. After all, that's the goal, right?

I say all this because I'm curious: how do YOU play when you write? Or, maybe, how do you WISH you could play when you write? Hit reply and let me know. I'd love it if you'd join me for this summer of play — a summer that hopefully turns into a life time of practice.

Keep your stick on the ice.

Frank.