Dictation: A Journey to Creative Freedom in Writing

I’ve always enjoyed talking to myself. Not in the chatty, social sense, but in the way I process ideas. When I’m brainstorming, when an idea is swirling in my head, or when I simply want to be creative and spontaneous, I talk to myself by recording and transcribing my thoughts. It’s not crazy; it’s cathartic.

Recently, I’ve discovered something transformative: dictation. I never realized how powerful it could be in my writing journey until I started using it properly.

Staring at a blank screen is painful. It’s depressing. It’s discouraging.

You know what you want to accomplish, but suddenly, you’re paralyzed by ‘stage fright’. The blinking cursor mocks you. I’ve come to understand why authors experience writer’s block. Is it a lack of ideas? Or is it the unspoken pressure to hit a word count or simply start? For me, it’s the latter.

I’ve always walked and talked to myself, using apps like Voice Memos or Notes. Recently, I’ve fallen in love with Voicepal. This app not only lets you dictate and transcribes your audio, but also asks clarifying questions and sparks inspiration to make you think deeper (more to come on this in the future, but you can find a discounted affiliate link to the app here). I thought I was just getting ideas out of my head, but over the past few weeks, I’ve realized it’s more than that.

Dictation isn’t just a brainstorming tool; it’s a way to create a first draft without the pressure of staring into the abyss of a blank screen.

So how, exactly, did I come to this conclusion?

The Podcast That Changed Me

I’m a podcast junkie. Whether it’s during my commute or while running errands, I’m always listening to something that relates to a recent interest or hobby.

Lately, I’ve been diving into writer podcasts, and that’s how I stumbled upon The Creative Penn by Joanna Penn. One episode featured Kevin J. Anderson, a prolific author known for his work in the Star Wars and Dune universes. For reference, Anderson’s website can be found here.

I didn’t know what I was expecting from the episode, or why I even selected it to my queue. The more I listened, I realized a flower was blooming before my eyes.

Come to find out, Anderson is a passionate dictator. He combines his love for hiking and the outdoors with his writing process – dictating his first drafts, chapter by chapter, after he meticulously plots out his chapter outline and summaries. He forms his prose while walking, infusing his narratives with the inspiration of nature.

It was a lightbulb moment for me.

Why couldn’t I do this? Was I already ‘kind of’ doing this?

I’ve always walked to clear my head, jotting down questions or ideas for my book, blog posts, or work projects in my Notes app. But I never thought of dictating a full draft.

Now, as I walk the Silver Comet Trail, surrounded by chirping birds and the smell of the river, I’m dictating this blog post.

The decision: It’s a game-changer.

The Doubts

However, one of the biggest misconceptions I had was that dictation isn’t writing.

Is dictating really writing? Does it negate my identity as an author? I realized this was impostor syndrome creeping in. My ego was telling me I had to do things the traditional way.

What I didn’t consider is that storytelling has always evolved over the course of human history. From oral traditions to written language, from stone walls to typewriters to laptops, the medium changes.

The essence of narrative communication remains the same. After reading Anderson’s book and listening to hours of podcasts, I understood that storytelling has evolved over centuries - from cave paintings to quills, typewriters, and now dictation. Who’s to say dictating isn’t writing?

Dictation is just another tool in the writer’s toolbox.

One of Anderson’s points resonated deeply: Why do we need to be stuck behind a desk to write? Why can’t we take our office outdoors? Why can’t we maximize our time - on commutes, during lunch breaks, or even while running errands?

As a busy dad with two young boys, a beautiful wife, and a full-time job that all require my attention, time is my most limited resource. Dictation allows me to maximize that time that I do have. It’s efficient, effective, and fulfilling.

After hearing Anderson’s podcast, I went down a rabbit hole. I listened to 15-20 hours of podcasts featuring him, bought his book On Being a Dictator, and read it in one sitting. I was inspired. I had just finished the grueling first draft of my book the traditional way, and now I realized there’s a better way.

When The Muse Speaks

The universe kept nudging me.

Yesterday, I received a weekly newsletter from Ness Labs founder Anne-Laure Le Cunff discussing the science of thinking aloud. It’s not just a way to get ideas out of your head; it reinforces learning, retention, and creativity. She highlights that, by speaking your thoughts, the action does 3 things: reduces cognitive load, improves clarity of thought, and strengthens memory.

You can read more and subscribe to her weekly newsletter here. https://nesslabs.com/thinking-out-loud

Hearing your thoughts out loud sparks innovation.

What excites me most is the freedom. I can write anywhere - on a trail, in my car, or even at the playground with my kids. I can draw inspiration from my surroundings and maximize my time. Technology has made it easier than ever. Tools that incorporate AI transcription have advanced drastically over the past few years, allowing me to focus on the creative process.

Dictation also helps mitigate distractions.

When I’m dictating, I’m not checking social media or falling down research rabbit holes. I’m fully present with my thoughts, keeping the car moving forward versus shifting between drive, reverse, and park. And while I’m still learning to eliminate filler words and speak more clearly, I know it’s a skill that will improve with practice.

I feel that dictation will also make my writing more conversational and personable. I’m not worrying about vocabulary or pulling out a thesaurus. Nor am I going back to correct grammar, spelling, punctuation or any other editing woes. I’m articulating my thoughts clearly and authentically. It’s also made me more productive.

I can produce more content, more words, and ultimately, more output.

Just Keep Swimming

I’m new to dictation, so self-doubt still creeps in as I am still in the infancy stages of adoption. I feel less pressure when brainstorming but dictating a first draft feels daunting. I know it’s a first draft - it doesn’t have to be perfect - but the perfectionist in me struggles.

Still, I’m improving. My thought process is speeding up and I’m getting better at capturing my ideas in real time.

Dictation continues to transform my workflow. I can write anytime, anywhere. I’m no longer tied to a desk or a keyboard. I can maximize my time, be more productive, and create more content.

It’s given me the freedom to express my ideas in a way that feels natural and authentic.

As I continue this journey, I’m excited to see how my writing evolves. Dictation isn’t just a tool; it’s a mindset. It’s about embracing creativity, breaking free from traditional constraints, and finding new ways to tell my story. As this evolves for me, I will look to share my experience - including tools, resources, things that work, and things that don’t.

If the content I produce by use of dictation and transcription helps even one person, it’s worth it.

Embracing Patience: Writing, Resistance, and the Long Road to Self-Discovery

I originally sat down to write a quick update. Something to explain why I’m behind on my Q1 goals (yes… I know it’s Q2), maybe clear the air for anyone wondering where things are with the book. But as I started thinking through what I’d actually say, I realized this wasn’t just about missed deadlines. It’s about everything I’ve had to learn — or unlearn — in the process. Mostly, it’s been about patience.

When I began writing this book, I thought I had a solid plan. Sixty days. First draft done by February. Second draft polished and submitted by March 31. That was the goal. I like goals. I like structure. And, for a while, I believed that if I followed the process, stayed disciplined, I could treat writing like any other project.

Today is May 1, and I’m just now wrapping up the last chapter of the first draft.

What’s slowed me down isn’t just life, although life certainly had its say. It’s been the slow, messy, uncomfortable realization that writing isn’t something you conquer. It’s something you surrender to. And surrendering has looked a lot like learning patience in the most unglamorous, necessary ways.

I used to think patience meant waiting. Sitting quietly, trusting things would work out. I don’t think that anymore. Patience isn’t quiet or passive. It’s the daily decision to show up even when it’s hard. It’s wrestling with a blank page and still writing anyway. It’s stepping outside with a voice memo app (more on this in a later post) and talking through ideas because sitting at the keyboard feels too overwhelming. It’s allowing the process to be nonlinear, letting myself brainstorm in the car, take notes mid-lunch, dictate a thought at 6am in the dark before the rest of the house wakes up. It’s accepting that I might not know what I’m doing today and still doing it.

I’ve read more about the craft of writing in the last few months than I have in years. Some books are about structure, others about language. But what’s moved me the most are the ones that talk about Resistance or clear examples of prose — the kind Steven Pressfield or William Zinsser has written about. That invisible force that shows up every single day when you sit down to create something. I used to think that once I “got going,” I’d be free from it. But Resistance doesn’t go away. It just evolves. It meets you wherever you are. And the only thing I’ve found that works against it is patience. That and starting. Again. And again. Being pigheaded and ruthless.

Because starting is the hardest part. Not just once, but every time. The blinking cursor feels personal almost to offense. Even when I know exactly what I want to say, it sometimes refuses to come out in a way that makes sense. I’ve had to teach myself that writing badly is better than writing nothing. That I can always fix a rough draft, but I can’t edit a blank screen. It’s simple advice. It’s also maddeningly hard to live by.

Along the way, I’ve had to change my relationship with time. I used to measure my productivity in output. Pages. Word count. Deadlines hit. But real writing doesn’t work on that clock. You can’t sprint your way through it and expect depth. I’ve started to see time differently. Not as something to fill or manage, but as something to prioritize with purpose. What matters gets space. Everything else waits.

Reading Four Thousand Weeks by Oliver Burkeman hit that home for me. We all get the same twenty-four hours where we must also face our finitude. It’s not about having time, it’s about choosing how to use it — and accepting the trade-offs that come with those choices. That means sometimes waking up early to write before my family is up. Sometimes stepping away from work during lunch to get a few paragraphs out. Sometimes it means not being fully present in one space because I’m thinking about an idea I don’t want to lose. None of it is ideal. None of it is clean. But all of it is honest.

And if I’ve learned anything about patience, it’s not just about waiting for something to happen. Patience is about holding space for what’s already happening. The thinking, the dreaming, the quiet conversations with yourself. The stops and starts. The parts that feel like nothing and end up meaning everything. I’ve come to see patience as movement, not stillness. A kind of trust that shows up in action, not in delay.

I won’t pretend that I’ve mastered any of this. I still fight resistance every day. I still fall behind. I still beat myself up for not being consistent enough, focused enough, fast enough. But I’ve stopped using those setbacks as proof that I’m not meant to do this. Now, they’re just part of the process. They’re the price of admission.

Somewhere along the line, my definition of success shifted. At first, success meant being published. Measurable outcomes. Proof that the effort was worth it. But now, success is showing up. Writing when I don’t feel like it and capturing a thought before it drifts away. Saying something in a way that might help someone else feel less alone. That’s more than enough.

I don’t know when this book will be done. I don’t know if I’ll publish it. But I do know that I’m already changed by the process of writing it. And maybe that’s the point.

Quarterly Quest Check-In: Facing Challenges, Finding Purpose, and Staying Consistent

A Reality Check on My Quarterly Quest

It’s been a couple of weeks since I started this journey of newfound empowerment and organization. And I have to say...

This is hard—much harder than I imagined.

When I first set out to create goals, become more productive, and take back control of my life, I didn’t fully grasp just how far I had strayed from the ‘straight and narrow’ path.

From a life perspective, I’ve realized I wasn’t in the best place mentally or emotionally. I wasn’t fulfilled, and I certainly wasn’t happy. Now, don’t get me wrong—I love my wife and two boys more than anything. But I wasn’t living up to my full potential with them, and honestly, I wasn’t living up to my potential for myself. And as for my finances? Let’s just say I’ve been way too lax, and it shows.

I also learned something else very quickly: Anxiety and overwhelm set in fast when I attach deadlines and specific metrics to my goals. Take this blog, for example—I set up accountability measures to create a sense of pressure, yet here I am, writing my second post almost two weeks late.

Time for a little reflection.

Over the past week, I took a step back to reassess. No, I’m not throwing in the towel—far from it. That would be ridiculous.

My quests remain unchanged—unwavering and concrete. But what I am committing to is consistency. Every day, I will show up with purpose and prioritize one thing that must be completed before I move on to anything else.

For example, today’s goal was simple: Get my thoughts out for a new venture (more on that in a second). Not only did I do it, but I ended up producing three times more than I expected—all while walking 18,000 steps. Woot!

So, what’s the takeaway?

It’s okay to put pressure on myself to get things done. But I also have to be realistic about what I can and cannot achieve within a given timeframe.

Quarterly Quest Update: Where I Stand.

I’ll share the specifics of what I committed to soon, but here’s a high-level check-in.

For my work quest, I set a goal to have some sort of business or side hustle up and running by March 31. By January 31, I needed to have a list of viable (and profitable) ideas. So, what did I decide on?

Well, I did create a list—a pretty long one, actually. And after some deliberation, I landed on something that will take a bit of time but feels right.

I’m going to write a book.

Yes, a book.

I’ve always wanted to create something that could help even one person in their personal or professional life. Writing a book and becoming a published author has been a long-standing dream of mine. As I worked through my goals, I found myself struggling with the idea of life purpose—and this is where I landed.

I know what you’re thinking: Justin, how on earth are you going to write and publish a book by March 31?

Great question. Honestly? I don’t know. But I do know that I’m going to take you along for the entire journey—start to finish. I’ll share more details in an upcoming post.

As for my personal quest, my goal was to reduce screen time and be more present with my family. While I’ve deleted most social media apps from my phone, I haven’t made as much progress as I hoped. And you know what? That’s okay.

I keep reminding myself: As long as I improve 1% every day, I’m better than I was yesterday.

That’s it for now—more updates coming soon. Hopefully, I can establish a regular cadence (fingers crossed!).

Have you ever struggled with staying consistent in your goals? How do you keep yourself accountable? Let me know in the comments!

I'm going to be rich.

I am going to be rich.

When I say rich, I mean financially and anxiety free. 

Free from the dependency of a typical ‘American’ 9-5 work life. Free from the anxiety that comes with this lifestyle that puts work first and living second.

First, why?

At 36 years 11 months old — now? Why has this become a focal point at this stage of my life? 

Is it a midlife crisis?

Do I need a muse?

Am I not fulfilled?

Honestly, it’s because I’m exhausted. Counterintuitive, right?

I’m so tired of feeling the constant anxiety that is forced upon us as a culture. Buy things, go into debt, chain yourself to an employer and become a number, and hope that something doesn’t happen. In the meantime — you never make enough, never have enough time for yourself, and never have time for your loved ones.

It’s miserable. And I’m going to stop this in 2025.

You will help me.

Needless to say, l always have great ideas (to me). I’m an ideator. I need accountability. This is where this blog comes in — as well as a few other tools.

I plan to post here at least 1x weekly (if not more… hopefully more) where I will brain dump my activities, what I’m doing, and how I’m thinking about everything at that particular moment.

If I don’t? Call me out. Ask me what’s going on. Don’t hesitate to hold me accountable for my actions and lack-there-of.

I want to do this in public. I want to be vulnerable. I want to feel pressured to do something that will holistically change my life for the better… however small.

This blog will help with this. I need the accountability.

So how am I starting?

I made it a point — for the first time in my life — to begin 2025 by goal setting. 

Transparently, I participated in Ali Abdaal’s ‘Productivity Spark 2025 Workshop’ the first week of January. This was after some self reflection about myself, where I’m at, and what I could change. My wife, Lisa, also wanted to do family goal setting as well as personal milestone reviews so that we could both hold each other accountable.

I was in.

So I just started. I first listened to the workshop, focusing on the content and the purpose for each. Then re-watched and used it as a guide to fully focus down on myself from an intentional perspective, giving myself the time and room I needed.

In the next post, I plan to outline how I’m going to approach 2025 — specifically the first quarter. 

I’ll break this down into the annual ‘Theme’, followed by my ‘Quarterly Quests’. I’m going to keep this as simple as possible (as prescribed in the workshop) and will be looking at my Work Main Quest (Side Hustle/Solopreneur Journey) and my Life Main Quest.

I’ll have Side Quests that I will share, and will explain those later.

I’ll also become extremely vulnerable — especially in the early days — by giving you a peek at my current mindset where I will share my eulogy (morbid, right?), what I’m doing and/or the specific actions I’ve taken, and what resources I am using to either assist in the journey or keep me on-track.

This will not be perfect. This is not a guide that someone should follow (yet…?). This is simply me documenting the climb, while simultaneously asking you to hold my feet to the fire.

That’s it. Let’s begin.