Who the hell is Rebecca T. Dickson?

This site, and really my entire existence, is about helping you take the knowledge you already have and translating it onto the page. Everything here – from simple free-writing exercises to private writing sessions – has been painstakingly designed to help you get your words flowing.

No one needs a guide to become a “real writer.” You are a real writer the moment you say you are and take steps to make it happen.

What you need is an internal permission slip. You need to say yes to your voice, to develop a recording in your head that says, “I am allowed to be happy.” “I am allowed to do what I love.” “I don’t care what anyone else thinks. I want to write this, and I am going to fucking write it.”

But who am I to tell anyone how to “Just Write”?

I did it. I wrote for my life. For my living. For my sanity. I found myself in a place where my choices were either to become the best goddamn writer I could be, or lose everything.

I was the single mom of an infant, going through a divorce, learning to be a reporter at a prestigious newspaper – a highly sought after position. My colleagues were Ivy League graduates or college newspaper stars. Though I earned my BA in journalism, it was long ago. I was approaching 30, alone and terrified. If I didn’t write, if I didn’t succeed as a reporter, I had no idea how I was going to take care of my son.

Reporters aren’t allowed to have writers’ block. They don’t miss deadline.

Sometimes you just do a thing because you don’t have options.

You “just write” so you can eat.

Most people do not have agendas nearly so dramatic. Maybe you want to write but feel stuck, hampered, uninspired. Maybe you’ve always dreamed of writing but don’t know where to start. Maybe you have something in progress but lost your motivation. I’m here to tell you getting the words out is easier than you think.

You can do this. Start by navigating around this site.

Who the hell is Rebecca T. Dickson? The smart, sassy coach for people who dream about writing, but think they don’t have the time, talent or energy.

You can and you do.

(The photo? Me and my boy on my 40th birthday – last year. We made it.)