Picture this:
You’ve reached an influential stage in your career, so you want to start sharing your experiences and ideas with the world through writing.
Maybe you envision a newsletter, a series of articles for your company’s blog, or some killer posts for LinkedIn, your college alumni group, or even your broader community.
And you know the only way to start is to… start.
So you do what any disciplined professional would do. You block out time on your calendar. An hour here, two hours there. “Writing time.”
It turns out, you didn't allow enough time. No big deal. A rookie mistake, right?
You learn from that, and you add a few more writing hours to your calendar to truly knock out your first brilliant piece.
But the same thing happens. The words don’t flow.
Finally, you arrive at a perfectly logical, yet completely false, conclusion: “I want to write, but I just don’t have the time.”
This conclusion, while understandable, is wrong.
Today, I’m going to pull back the curtain and show you exactly how I write the Meander. And then, I’m going to ask you to do something even more surprising: I’m going to ask you to use my process to write the next one.
But first, this month marks the fourth anniversary of the Midweek Meander (originally, the Midweek Vibe).
The May 18, 2022, subject was "We Are the Champions."
I discovered that for four decades, the Olympics included a gold medal for architecture, and I decided to write about it.
The piece wasn't very long, only 278 words, compared to the modern 1500 to 1700-word essays of today. And I chuckled to myself when I read it.
Now, over 200 Meanders later, you may have noticed that I'm not the only one you're reading. Brandon Clokey (our AIBD President-Elect) is becoming a regular contributor. Last fall, Professional Member Goeff Perkins assisted with one. And two weeks ago, our Eastern Shore Chapter Chairwoman, Tracy Moller, wrote about two inspiring palaces in London.
The Core Philosophy: "The Designer’s Journey"
The most impactful Meander articles aren’t just lists of facts (like my first one); they are narratives of discovery.
The "heart and soul" of this publication is professional transparency. It’s about admitting there was something you didn’t know yesterday, showing the grit it took to find the answer today, and ensuring your peers don't have to struggle tomorrow.
Whatever you wish to write about and the medium it's published in, your HOA newsletter, church bulletin, or Substack, that's the formula.
If you've ever tried to start a new habit and given up, it's probably not because you didn't have enough time. It's more likely that you were spending too much time on the wrong thing.
The problem isn’t the amount of time you have. The problem is how you’re using it.
In fact, I've found that the more time I give myself, the worse my writing becomes.
I’ve spent years refining a specific, step-by-step "Meander Process" that bypasses writer’s block entirely (well, almost). It’s the secret behind how these emails actually get to your inbox at 6 am ET every Wednesday without me losing my mind.
The first thing NOT to do: Rigidly focus on a page and expect creativity to magically appear.
What you've done by "setting aside time" is make yourself available to focus on the "act of writing." I think our educational system may have conditioned us to be this way.
Pumping out a 1500+ word educational and inspirational email every week has little to do with talent. I'm definitely proof of that.
It starts with an honest desire to help others. And it's delivered using a system.
Step 1: Random Reflection
What sparks creativity? Everything.
Distraction. Daydreaming. Defocusing. No lie. Even if you have no desire to write, you should let your mind go for a stroll now and then.
The most famous stage of the creative process is incubation. This is where you step away. When you stop "trying" to solve the problem, your subconscious takes over.
How many times have you solved that pesky design problem (in your mind) while walking the dog, jogging, folding laundry, or taking a shower?
That last one is the root of the phrase "shower thoughts." You know it's happened to you.
My writing mentor (see my PS for more) says she paces around her house, talking to herself. "And it's pretty on-brand for me to admit that there's usually a glass of wine in hand."
I know you have 100s of brilliant ideas. Unfortunately, they just flutter out of your mind because you're not paying attention.
This is especially true of our failures, frustrations, and screw-ups. We push them into the depths of our subconscious. I admit that technique is probably healthy, but those events are seeds of fantastic writing.
When you decide to write, your brain's Reticular Activating System (RAS) gets an upgrade. Suddenly, every thought and memory that bubbles up is no longer just a thought or memory—it's a potential masterpiece.
But here's the thing—I can't remember s#$t!
Our minds aren't memory chips. So even if you have a great content idea, there's no guarantee you'll recall it later when you sit down to write.
Step 2: Idea Banking
To understand memory retrieval, we have to stop thinking of the brain as a hard drive. A hard drive records a file and plays it back exactly the same way.
The human mind is more like a theater troupe—every time you "remember" something, your brain is actually putting on a new performance of that event based on a rough script. There's an amazing TED talk by science writer Joshua Foer (00:20:12) that illustrates this.
Most "forgetting" isn't the loss of the data; it’s the loss of the path. You have the "file," but you’ve lost the "search term."
"Idea banking is really simple—you just write s%#t down as soon as it comes to you, even if it seems a little weird or disconnected. Don’t filter it. Just capture it."
That's my mentor talking again.
The best method for doing this will depend on your personal routine. For me, it's my phone. That's usually always nearby. Even when I'm in the shower.
At first, I used the "notes" section to record my ideas. Now I use Basecamp, our project management software, with a direct link to a "living document."
If I'm inspired online, I use Raindrop.io, my "all-in-one bookmark manager," to store, categorize, and tab the links.
I know, I make it sound extravagant with all my fancy apps. Most people likely keep it real simple and use a Google sheet.
What's important is that you find a way to record your ideas as they occur. Then, when you're back at your desk, add them to your idea bank.
Advice from my mentor: DON'T FILTER!
Just because you've had an idea and recorded it doesn't mean you have to use it. Accept that most of your ideas will go to waste. This STOPS you from filtering them. You'll be surprised how many strange thoughts (or meanders) evolve into bridges that connect your most creative ideas.
Step 3: Forward Planning
The purpose of this step is to remove friction from the act of writing.
What does friction look like? That's easy. It looks like, "What am I going to write about for next Wednesday?"
The best way to avoid the friction is to get organized (I know, that gave me the heebie-jeebies, too).
If you're producing a blog post for your firm, create a content calendar. Repeat or reuse it monthly, quarterly, or annually. For example, it's spring. Write about outdoor spaces. It's winter, write about fireplaces. If you haven't noticed, there's a "rhythm" to the AIBD weekly emails:
- Monday - Newsletter
- Tuesday - Webinars
- Wednesday - Meaner
Thursdays and Fridays are reserved for dedicated email blasts, special events, AIBD news, and related content.
Breaking it down even further.
You may have noticed that most, not all, but many Midweek Meanders are related to the date the particular Wednesday falls on. Much like Tracy's Meander, which began by mentioning King Henry VIII and the anniversary of his reign.
The "pay-off" was a lesson in blending new construction with old. It had nothing to do with when Henry became king. But the date was a trigger.
My MO is to seek out dates that are relevant to architecture, art, architects, buildings, landmarks, and the enthusiasts of them all. Those are mapped out through the year, so when you comment on one of our emails, as Tracy did, I respond with, "Hey! Did you know?!" and "Would you like to write about it?"
Click the links below to view inspirational dates for May and June:
The date is a starting point, a catalyst for curiosity. It's not about documenting the known, but about the journey of discovery that follows, leading you to uncover stories and insights you never expected.
Step 4: Making Time to Write
I promise. This is the easiest part.
Wondering about something, going down a path of discovery, and sharing it with others is fun! Having fun should be one of your core values.
And the good news is, steps 1 through 3 take almost no time at all.
If you want to write, you can make time for it. You just need a system.
Now, the sales pitch.
AIBD is ALWAYS looking for content—The Midweek Meander, the AIBD Magazine, blog posts, even the ARDA dinner script.
The strength of membership-driven content isn't just a nice sentiment—it’s a mechanical reality of how expertise and community trust function.
In the professional world of residential design, "corporate" content often feels sanitized, while "member" content feels like a blueprint.
The AIBD doesn't have the answers—you do (Members helping members).
What specific design hurdle did you clear at 2:00 PM yesterday? That's the 'gold' other members are looking for. You aren't just writing an email; you're providing the shortcut your peers didn't know they needed.
Now that I think about it, I'm not really looking for "writers," I’m looking for designers who are willing to share one "Aha!" moment with their peers (and I admit I'm too lazy to rewrite this email). Don't worry about the polish. If you can provide the discovery from the "Idea Bank," I’ll provide the system to help you cross the finish line.
If you're tempted to take a stab at it, whether it's the Meander, our blog, or the AIBD magazine, send me an email at steve.mickley@AIBD.org.
Once I've heard from you, you'll receive The Midweek Meander: A Contributor’s Guide. See how we take a 'shop talk' approach so our many years of experience becomes a mentorship tool for the next generation.
It’s less about being a perfect writer and more about being a generous expert.
Your experience is the only textbook the next generation can’t buy—don't let it retire when you do.