The Unexpected Solution to Your Pacing Problems

You know that sinking feeling when you're reading through your draft and realize your story drags in all the wrong places? Or worse, when it races past the moments that should land with emotional weight? Pacing issues are one of the trickiest aspects of storytelling to master, and here's why: they're not just about plot structure or scene length. They're about rhythm, intuition, and understanding the natural flow of your own narrative voice.

That's where Julia Cameron's Morning Pages come in—and not in the way you might expect.

If you're not familiar with the practice, Morning Pages are a cornerstone of Cameron's creative method, outlined in her book The Artist's Way. The concept is deceptively simple: write three pages of longhand, stream-of-consciousness writing first thing every morning. No editing, no overthinking, no artistic pressure. Just you, the page, and whatever tumbles out of your mind.

But what does this brain-dump practice have to do with pacing your thriller, romance, or memoir? Everything, actually.

How Morning Pages Reveal Your Natural Rhythm

Most pacing problems stem from one fundamental issue: you're writing in someone else's rhythm, not your own. You're trying to match the breakneck pace of that bestseller you just read, or you're overcompensating by adding "important" details that don't serve the story's momentum.

Morning Pages strip all that away. Because you're writing without a destination or audience in mind, you naturally fall into your authentic cadence. Some mornings, your pen might fly across the page in short, clipped sentences. Other days, you'll find yourself meandering through longer, more contemplative passages.

Neither is right or wrong—they're just different energies, and learning to recognize these shifts is the first step to controlling pacing in your actual storytelling.

After a few weeks of Morning Pages, you'll start noticing patterns:

- When you're anxious or excited, your sentences probably get shorter and punchier
- When you're reflective or processing something complex, you naturally slow down
- When you're bored with a topic, you rush through it (sound familiar?)
- When something truly matters to you, you linger on details without realizing it

These aren't bugs—they're features. Your Morning Pages are teaching you about the organic relationship between emotion and pacing.

Using Morning Pages to Diagnose Pacing Issues

Here's a practical exercise that's transformed my approach to revision: write Morning Pages about your story problems.

When you suspect a pacing issue in your manuscript, don't immediately jump to cutting scenes or adding action. Instead, open your Morning Pages the next day and write about that section. Not the polished version—just let yourself ramble.

"The chapter where Sarah discovers the letter feels so slow but I don't know why. She walks in, sees it on the table, reads it, reacts. Maybe the problem is I don't care about the room description? Or maybe Sarah shouldn't be alone? I'm bored writing her sitting there thinking..."

Pay attention to where your pen wants to speed up and where it drags. Notice what you're excited to explain versus what you're forcing yourself to include. The parts you rush through in your Morning Pages? Your reader will feel that same impatience. The moments where you naturally expand and explore? Those probably need space in your actual manuscript too.

The Three-Week Morning Pages Pacing Reset

If you're serious about improving your story's pacing, try this structured approach:

Week One: Pure Morning Pages
Just do the practice as Cameron prescribes. Three pages, every morning, about anything. Build the habit and let yourself acclimate to writing without judgment. Don't think about your manuscript yet.

Week Two: Story Exploration
Continue your Morning Pages, but allow your story to enter the conversation naturally. Don't force it—if you're thinking about your protagonist while you write, follow that thread. Notice how you describe plot events when you're not "officially" writing.

Week Three: Targeted Pacing Work
Dedicate your Morning Pages to exploring specific scenes or chapters that feel off. Write about them conversationally: "The opening is too slow. Why? What am I afraid to skip? What am I avoiding jumping into?"

What Morning Pages Taught Me About Pacing

I've been doing Morning Pages on and off for years, but when I committed to three solid months of daily practice while revising my novel, something clicked.

I realized I was padding my slow scenes with description and rushing through my action scenes with bare-bones dialogue. Completely backward, right? But I couldn't see it until Morning Pages revealed my insecurity. In my unfiltered morning writing, I'd spend half a page ranting about my day and then rush through actually interesting stories because I felt self-conscious about them.

Same pattern, different context. Once I recognized it, I could actively work against it in my manuscript.

Making This Practice Work for You

Here's the honest truth: Morning Pages are annoying. They take time. Some mornings you'll resent the hell out of them. But they work—not because they're magical, but because they create a space where your authentic voice can't hide.

A few tips to make the practice stick:

- Don't do them digitally (at least at first). The hand-brain connection matters, and you can't edit as easily with pen and paper
- Accept that most of it will be garbage. That's the point. You're composting, not curating
- Never reread them immediately. Let them sit for at least a week before revisiting
- Don't make them another task to perfect. Messy handwriting, incomplete sentences, repetition—all fine

The Bottom Line

Pacing isn't just a technical skill you master through formula. It's an intuitive sense you develop by understanding your own rhythm as a writer and storyteller. Morning Pages won't give you a beat sheet or a three-act structure, but they'll give you something more valuable: self-awareness about how you naturally move through narrative.

And once you understand your defaults—where you rush, where you linger, where you lose interest—you can make conscious choices about pacing instead of just hoping you got it right.

Give it three weeks. Three pages every morning. You might be surprised what your unfiltered brain has to teach you about the story you're trying to tell.