They cook, try new recipes, and share meals with friends — but when it comes to putting that experience into words, they get stuck. They post something online, maybe a recipe or a photo, and then… nothing really happens. No audience, no traction, and definitely no income. What most people don’t realise is that the difference isn’t the food — it’s the writing. When you know how to describe food properly, structure your ideas, and write in a way that actually connects with readers, everything changes. Your content becomes something people want to read, share, and even pay for. That’s exactly what I teach inside my Food Writing Academy — how to turn your love of food into writing that can genuinely make you money.

I’ve been experimenting with a small writing pattern lately that has helped my scenes feel more immediate. It goes like this: Action → Sensation → Meaning → New Action In real life, moments don’t arrive as explanations. They arrive through the body. Something happens. Your body reacts. Your mind interprets it. Then you do something next. Example: Action: The flashlight flickers. Sensation: The woods vanish for a second and my stomach tightens. Meaning: Of course… I forgot to change the batteries. New Action: I smack the flashlight against my palm and keep walking. That simple loop can repeat over and over inside a scene. Something happens. The body feels it. The mind reacts. The character moves. When writing feels flat, it’s often because we jump straight to explanation and skip the physical experience of the moment. So here’s a small exercise if you want to try it: Write a short scene (100–200 words) using this rhythm: Action → Sensation → Meaning → New Action Then repeat the loop once or twice as the moment unfolds. You’ll probably notice the scene starts to feel more immersive because the reader is experiencing the moment the same way the character does. If you try it, drop your scene in the comments. I’d love to see what everyone comes up with.

Have you ever written a paragraph and thought, “Yup… this is exactly what I wanted to say,” hit send, and then looked back later wondering what you were thinking? I do it all the time. Here’s my latest example: “My intention for my reader is like a chef checking on his guests toward the end of their meal. When he sees them using the last crust of bread to clean up the last streaks on the plate, he’ll know they’re well fed and satisfied.” It makes sense. The idea is there. But look at how many layers sit between the reader and the image. “My intention…”“…is like a chef…”“…checking on his guests…” By the time we reach the bread dragging through sauce, we’ve stepped through several layers of explanation, I've created too much distance. Distance happens when we explain what the image already communicates. The strongest part of the paragraph is the crust catching the last streak on the plate. That image already implies satisfaction. I didn’t need to translate it. A tighter version might be: “I want my readers to finish the way a guest finishes a great meal — dragging the last crust of bread through the final streak on the plate.” The image stays. The explanation disappears. Revision, more often than not, is subtraction. How would you rewrite the original paragraph? Or better yet — what image captures the standard you hold for your own readers?