WriGoMo, let's go
Writing Goals Month: you have to make your own fun around here
A Proclamation
BEHOLD! I decree it thus: in the month of June, the writers shall turn feral.
They will scribble with pens, they will hunch like arthritic prawns over their laptops, they will consume untold quantities of coffee and tea, they will throw crackers at their children to buy five minutes of peace.
And they shall triumph.
Introducing WriGoMo, aka Writing Goals Month
It began innocently enough: me whinging to my husband that I needed to get my arse in gear and start writing the next project. I’m coming out of the gloom of a few months of personal crises/health struggles (dull), and this has meant a severe lack of creative meaning in my life (rage).
So I decided to plan my own month of intentional writing, sort of in the spirit of NaNoWriMo1, but not quite as prescriptive as writing 50,000 words of a novel in a month. November is weird Down Under (the collision of summer and pre-Christmas-but-also-end-of-the-academic-year typhoon), plus I didn’t want to wait that long. I chose June: rainy weather, sliding into slippers, and making soup.
I asked my husband if he’d join me and we came up with “WriGoMo”. I brought it up over coffee to a few members of my writing accountability group PATM (Page Against the Machine 🤬🤘✍️2), which also includes my husband. Then I floated it to another writing group chat and more folks came on board. Turns out, there are a lot of us starving to create and make something in this insane world, but we’re struggling to do it alone.

The “why”
The purpose of WriGoMo is a month of intentional focus. The goals are entirely individual, based on what stage you’re at with your creative project(s) and your other life obligations/commitments/tiny creatures relying on you for sustenance.
We’re aiming to build good creative brain habits which will hopefully carry on beyond June.
The “how”
With consideration to the “why”, I’ve suggested that my fellow writers follow this structure:3
Decide on your overall outcome goal(s) for the month, then:
Jot down a short description with enough specificity on how you plan to get there, and then:
Share you goal with the group; this will be your “contract” with yourself.
Note: I have strongly recommended committing to daily goals. The point is not to churn out 1,000 words a day. The point is engage regularly with your creative work so it sets up camp in your brain, and to celebrate some kind of “win” every day. For those days where it’s going to be impossible to do any meaningful writing, an easy win could be writing a character’s name on a post-it note, sticking it to the bathroom mirror, and mildly daydreaming about a sticky plot point while showering and moisturising and sunscreening. Or setting a timer for 3 minutes and free writing on the back of a receipt.Chip away at your goal during the focus period in June. Each day, when you’ve completed your goal or micro-goal, you announce “DONE” by texting the group chat.
In summary:
Write the goal. Be specific. Set up an “easy win’ every day.
Share with someone who you can text “DONE” to in all caps and they will celebrate with unhinged gifs rather than texting back “WTF?”
The sharing and mildly shouting over text is very important for accountability.

Wait, “accountability”? And what’s an accountability group? It sounds kinda judgy.
Writers’ groups can take many shapes with differing priorities. Some workshop each other’s work, but in mine, we’re more of a support group. It’s a space for honesty, to vent frustrations and celebrate achievements. At the end of each monthly meeting, we set goals, and at the beginning of the next, we discuss how we went. It’s a supportive and empathetic space, but the act of knowing we need to “report” back to the group helps us stay motivated. It’s also a reminder that what we’re doing is important, and we’re not alone.
The overall accountability model, including the contract and “DONE” message, was inspired by Annie Hartnett and Tessa Fontaine, two fantastic American authors, who mentioned this model on their podcast4.
I love this concept because the vast majority of writers in my life are breaking the laws of physics to create pockets of time where there is no time. They’re writing at 5am before their day jobs, at school drop-offs and pickups, late at night when the house is quiet, and on the train commuting home. They’re daydreaming while walking the dog, troubleshooting in the grocery store, and plotting during meetings where the words “stakeholder” and “ecosystem” are used ad nauseam.
These writers don’t have time for workshop groups. They need time of their own and moral support. They need an accountability group, a gentle nudge to set some goals, and permission to let their writing take up space in their lives.
What this means for Substack
I likely won’t be writing articles here during WriGoMo, but I will be posting occasional notes (sorta like tweets), which you can view on the Substack app or website. I intend to document my sprial into creativity-induced madness.
In conclusion
A BLESSING TO ALL THE WRITERS
May the writers revel in ecstatic creative visions.
May they be unapologetic. May their fingers be ink-stained. May their eyes become crazed like a raccoon on amphetamines. May their colleagues grow mildly concerned and slip them the EAP helpline number.
May the writers triumph.
National Novel Writing Month, which took place in the month of November, in which people tried to write the first 50,000 of a novel in a month. NaNoWriMo the nonprofit went on for about two decades until it seemed to internally combust for a variety of reasons that I can’t remember and, to be frank, don’t matter in the context of this conversation. But prior to this implosion, I did it twice, and both times, I contributed 30k+ words to my new novel. It helped me build momentum that carried on for months after.
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JEEZ. Can you tell I’m an eldest daughter? My parents reckoned I’d be the activities director on a cruise ship when I grew up, because on the playground, I’d be corralling all the kids to join in on some imaginative game of my own making. Now I’m doing it with my writer’s groups.
“Good Moms on Paper” (Annie Hartnett, Tessa Fontaine, Ellen O’Connell Whittet) is just plain awesome. Annie and Tessa also run their own virtual accountability groups. Annie writes amazing fiction, has Border Collies, and kindly provided the cover blurb to my debut novel The Skeleton House, so naturally I’ve contemplating joining one of her accountability groups to make some American writer friends, but all the workshop times are all at like 2am my time. I’m a big fan, but I need sleep to be wily enough to fool people into thinking I’m a semi-normal human being (shh).


I’m in!! I’ve moved back to Oz and June is a perfect time to hunker down. ✍🏽 Although I’m also a teacher so shit is going to get real in June 😜
June is the perfect choice with the rain & the soup & the slippers 🍲