The Quiet Room | Second Story Studios

The Purpose of The Quiet Room

This is not a room to learn how to be a better writer.

This is a place to remember how to listen.

This room exists for moments when the world feels too loud.

When your thoughts are tangled.

When you're angry. When you're mad. When you're sad.

When you know there's something inside you that wants to speak,

but you don't know how to invite it out yet.

You can begin with music,
or with a pen in your hand,
or by doing nothing at all for a few minutes.

Below are a few of the things that help me find quiet in the middle of chaos.
Maybe they’ll help you, too.

Music to Write By

I don’t use music to push myself to be productive.
I use it to soften the edges of the madness inside my mind.

The right sound can quiet the part of the mind that keeps interrupting, second-guessing, or rushing ahead. It gives your thoughts somewhere gentle to land so they don’t scatter the moment you open the page.

When I’m writing, I usually reach for music that fades into the background rather than demanding attention. Instrumental tracks. Slow rhythms. Familiar sounds that make it easier to stay present without pulling me out of my own head.

I’ve shared a few of the playlists I return to here. They’re not meant to inspire performance or output. They’re simply meant to help you settle in.

You might try:

putting on headphones instead of playing music out loud
choosing one playlist and letting it run without skipping
allowing the sound to become part of the room, not the focus of it

Music doesn’t do the same work every day.

It has a way of holding different parts of me, depending on what I need.
I meet it where I am, and it meets me there too.

These are a few of the playlists I return to. What they offer changes. That’s part of the listening.

Let them play. Let them quiet. Let them stir.

Choose a playlist below and see what holds you in this moment.

1. A QUIET PLACE TO REST

Songs for the quiet reckoning. For the work that begins the moment you stop asking permission to exist.

2. GRACE IN THE MAKING

For the slow undoing and trusting that God is still at work in what isn’t finished yet.

3. UNMUTED

Songs for the quiet reckoning. For the work that begins the moment you stop asking permission to exist.

4. THE DEEP END

Music for catharsis and getting lost on purpose.

5. CHOOSE YOUR VIBE

Links and soundscapes for writing, focus, and flow.

1. Quiet Room

2. Chill Vibes

3. For Writing Novels

4. Music to Write By

5. Unleash Your Creativity

Returning to the Page

The Practice of Journaling

If it’s been a while since you last wrote, it's okay.

If you’ve been feeling the pull to write again, this is a good place to start.

Life has a way of filling our days, doesn't it?

Responsibilities pile up. Energy runs thin. And before you know it, coming back feels harder than it used to, and doubt starts to creep in.

When I step away from writing for a while, I start to wonder, too, if the connect I had to it is still there.

When that happens, it helps to pause and reconnect with yourself before worrying about what will come out on the page.

It helps to start by choosing a journal that feels good in your hands. Something you actually want to open. Leather, cloth, aged paper, lined or blank pages. The small but important part is letting this feel like a conversation instead of an obligation.

Find a place where you feel most like yourself.
That might be outside, with fresh air and uneven ground.
It might be at your desk, or curled up in your favorite chair.
It might be early in the morning or late at night when the house is finally quiet.

There’s no need to write anything meaningful right away. You’re not trying to capture your whole life or make sense of everything in one sitting.

This is just about spending a little time with your own thoughts again.

Let the pen move. Let the words come out the way they come out.

Messy is fine. Honest is better.

When I write this way, I’m not trying to understand anything or make it make sense. I’m just letting the words come out without stopping myself. No fixing. No explaining. No deciding where it should go.

If it’s only a few lines, that’s fine.
If you sit with the journal closed for a while before you get the courage to open it, that’s okay too.

If everything feels messy or overwhelming, this isn’t the place to try to clean it up.

You don’t need more energy or clarity than you already have to begin.
You’re allowed to start where you are.

Open Page Writing

Write whatever shows up. Don’t edit. Don’t reread.
Don’t stop to decide if it’s good or useful or true enough.

This is not writing for an audience. This is writing for release.

This is a simple way to begin when you don’t know what you want to say yet.

Find a quiet place. It doesn’t have to be perfect. Just somewhere you can sit without being interrupted for a little while. Light a candle if that helps you slow down. Make a cup of coffee or tea. Put on headphones and choose music that fades into the background instead of pulling your attention.

Set a timer. Five minutes is enough. Ten if you have it. You don’t need more than that to start.

Open your journal and write whatever comes. Don’t plan it. Don’t warm up. Don’t wait for the right sentence. Just start where your mind already is.

It might be scattered. It might be repetitive. It might surprise you.

The only rule here is that you don’t stop yourself.

Don’t cross things out.
Don’t reread as you go.
Don’t pause to decide if it’s good or useful or going anywhere.

If your thoughts jump around, let them.
If you repeat yourself, keep going.
If all you write is frustration about not knowing what to write, that still counts.

Sometimes it helps to begin with a prompt. Not to aim the writing, just to open the door. You can find one online, or make your own.

A question you keep circling. A sentence you can’t shake.

Write it at the top of the page and respond without trying to answer it neatly or make it fit inside a box.

When the timer ends, stop. You don’t have to finish a thought. You don’t have to read it back. You can close the journal and set it aside.

The point of Open Page Writing isn’t to create something polished or perfect.
It’s to let yourself think, uninhibited, out loud, on paper, without interruption.

The point isn’t to get it right.
The point is to begin.

If You Need a Door In

If you’re feeling stuck, a prompt can give you a place to begin.

This is a simple way to begin when you don’t know what you want to say yet.

Set a timer. Five minutes is enough. Ten if you have it. You don’t need more than that to start.

Open your journal and write whatever comes. Don’t plan it. Don’t warm up. Don’t wait for the right sentence. Just start where your mind already is.

It might be scattered. It might be repetitive. It might surprise you.

The only rule here is that you don’t stop yourself.

Don’t cross things out.
Don’t reread as you go.
Don’t pause to decide if it’s good or useful or going anywhere.

If your thoughts jump around, let them.
If you repeat yourself, keep going.
If all you write is frustration about not knowing what to write, that still counts.

Sometimes it helps to begin with a prompt. Not to aim the writing, just to open the door.

A prompt isn’t meant to guide the writing or shape where it goes. It’s just something to respond to so you’re not starting from nothing.

You can find prompts online, pull one from a book, or make your own. Sometimes the best ones come from questions you keep circling or thoughts that won’t quite leave you alone.

Write the prompt at the top of the page.
Set a timer.
Then respond without trying to answer it neatly or correctly.

Let the writing wander if it needs to. Let it contradict itself. Let it stay unfinished.

If you run out of things to say, keep writing anyway. Write what you’re thinking about the prompt. Write why it feels hard. Write that you don’t know what to write. That still counts.

Here are a few prompts you can use if you want one ready to go:

What am I avoiding thinking about right now?
What feels unfinished?
What am I tired of carrying?
What keeps coming back, even when I try to ignore it?
What do I need to say that I haven’t said out loud?

When the timer ends, stop. You don’t need to reread or revise. You can close the journal and walk away, or you can keep going if it feels right.

The goal isn’t to figure anything out or try to make it fit.
It’s just to get the words moving.

Until you begin to hear yourself again.

In the listening, you may hear parts of yourself you didn’t realize you’d been missing.

I hope you give yourself the space to listen now.

When listening turns into wanting to explore, the Writing Lab is where I let things spill out.

Enter the Writing Lab