Write songs with more confidence, authenticity and purpose. This guide helps songwriters balance instinct and discipline and gives advice how to push through creative roadblocks.
Songwriting can be both a beautiful gift and an awkward challenge. On some days it feels like a spiritual awakening, and other days an impossible puzzle. It’s easy to get lost in the endless possibilities, doubts, and pressures that come with creating something from nothing, but if you step back and ask yourself why you write songs, songwriting can quickly become less about struggle and more about discovery.
This blog offers five essential questions you can ask yourself if you need help navigating the creative process with better clarity, more confidence, and purpose.
Where Do My Songs Come From?
When songwriting starts to feel forced or frustrating, this question can help you reset and get back into the flow.
Some songwriters describe their process as instinctive, almost effortless, as if the songs “come through” them rather than from them. Others see it as a craft, something shaped by practice and structure thanks to years of studying music and lyric writing.
For most, the art of songwriting probably lies somewhere in the middle of instinct (feeling) and skill (discipline). Sometimes, a song can appear out of nowhere, fully formed. Other times, it’s a slow and steady process, requiring extra effort and craftmanship. Often, the most fruitful creative processes usually embrace elements from both sides: being open to unexpected ideas while having the persistence to shape them into something meaningful.
Let’s say you’re the kind of songwriter who has no trouble coming up with that initial spark of an idea—but actually finishing the song? That’s where things get tricky. If that sounds familiar, you might lean toward one of these two tendencies: overthinking or improvising.
The Overthinker: Some songwriters get caught up in perfectionism, tweaking every little detail and struggling to call a song “done.” If that’s you, it might help to remember that creative flow sometimes works best when you loosen your grip. Some of the best ideas show up when you stop trying to force them.
The Improviser: On the flip side, some songwriters tend to rush the process, calling a song finished before it’s really had time to develop. Maybe it’s because they trust their instincts, or maybe they just like to keep moving. But sometimes, taking a little extra time to step back, explore different angles, and refine what’s there can make all the difference.
So, where do your songs come from?
By recognizing whether you’re more of an overthinker or an improviser, you can start to find a better balance between inspiration and discipline. If you tend to get stuck in your head, remind yourself to let go a little and trust the process. If you rush through songs too quickly, consider slowing down and digging deeper.
There’s no single right way to write a song—but understanding how you write can help you work with your creative tendencies rather than against them.
Who Am I Writing This Song For?
Some say songs are for the audience. They should tell stories that tap into universal experiences, emotions, or themes that listeners can relate to. Without that connection, a song can risk feeling too self-indulgent—more like a personal diary entry than something that resonates with others. When that happens, it may struggle to reach people in a meaningful way.
There’s also a practical side to this mindset. Many songwriters feel pressure to write songs that are universally understood, knowing that the broader the appeal, the more likely their music will connect with a wider audience. A song that speaks to many has a better chance of becoming a hit.
On the other hand, some believe songs should be deeply personal—a raw, intimate expression of the artist’s inner world, created without concern for how it will be received. In this view, authenticity comes from writing for yourself first, offering an unfiltered glimpse into your own experiences and emotions.
As with most things in songwriting, the balance likely lies somewhere in between. A great song often blends personal truth with themes that others can relate to. Songs should be intimate, drawing from real experiences and emotions, but they also need to be written in a way that allows listeners to find themselves in the story. The key is identifying the universal emotions within your personal narrative—the feelings and moments that anyone can latch onto.
Leaning too far in either direction has its challenges. If you focus only on the audience, a song can feel surface-level or predictable. If you write only for yourself, it may be harder for others to connect with it. Songs that strike the right balance (ones that feel deeply personal yet universally resonant) are often the ones that leave the biggest impact.
Here’s an amazing example of a song that hits that sweet spot perfectly for me:
So, who are you really writing for?
If you find yourself obsessing over whether your song will connect with a wide audience, try shifting the focus back to what feels meaningful to you first. On the other hand, if you tend to write only for yourself, consider how you might shape your ideas in a way that allows others to step into your world.
There’s no perfect formula, but the most powerful songs often live in that sweet spot, being deeply personal yet universally resonant. The more you understand your own approach, the easier you’ll find it to strike that balance.
Does This Song Really Matter?
Songs have an amazing way of reaching people when they need it most. They can heal, inspire, entertain, challenge, and bring people together. A song can offer comfort during hard times, capture a moment in culture, or even become an anthem for something bigger than itself.
But putting too much weight on a song’s potential importance can be overwhelming. If you start believing that every song needs to be profound, world-changing, or universally understood, it can create unnecessary pressure. Instead of feeling creative freedom, you might start second-guessing every lyric, every chord, every choice, turning songwriting into a high-stakes game rather than a natural, expressive process.
The truth is, not every song will change the world. Some songs will deeply resonate with people, while others come and go. That’s just the nature of songwriting. But when you accept that, it can free you to write without fear of whether a song “matters” in the grand scheme of things.
Someone once told me that you have to write 100 songs that don’t matter before you get to one that does. Maybe that’s a harsh stat, but it’s a good reminder: just keep writing.
So, does this song really matter?
If you find yourself weighed down by the pressure to write something important, try shifting your focus towards simply writing honest or fun. Not every song needs to be a masterpiece, not every song needs to change the world-but that doesn’t mean a song’s not worth writing.
The more you learn how to let go of expectations, the more likely you could be able to stumble upon the songs that truly do matter to you and others.
What Am I Not Seeing in My Songwriting?
As songwriters, we all have blind spots. It’s easy to fall into familiar writing patterns without realizing we may have built walls around our creativity. That’s why it’s important to sometimes take step back to take an honest look at our process.
In the studio where I recorded my last album, there was a picture on the wall that looked like a child had painted it. It read: “Is it complicated enough? Simple enough? Crazy enough? Beautiful enough? Stupid enough?” That simple list stuck with me. It was a reminder to pause and ask myself whether I was leaning too far in any one direction. That kind of self-check can keep the creative process moving without getting stuck in any overthinking.
Some songwriters have a tendency to overcomplicate things. Maybe they use abstract metaphors or dense chord progressions because they worry their song is too simple. Others may tend to do the opposite, being comfortable with humor and lightness but get hesitant when things get too emotionally intense. And then there are those who dive deep into raw emotion but sometimes go too far with overdramatization.
So, what are you not seeing in your songwriting?
None of these tendencies we highlighted above are wrong, they’re just creative habits that many songwriters fall into without even realizing it. But sometimes, those habits can hold us back. That’s when a quick moment of self-reflection can help. Ask yourself “Is it simple enough? Too simple? Am I playing it safe?” - These simple prompts maybe enough to help you break the cycle and spark a fresh direction. The key is striking a balance between what feels natural and what pushes you to grow creatively.
Why Do I Feel This Way About My Song?
Songwriting is an emotional rollercoaster and how you feel about your songs can shift dramatically at different stages. For me, it often starts with a burst of creativity, being an exciting spark that won’t let me sleep. It’s a rush of inspiration, and the song seems to write itself. There’s no questioning its potential in that moment; it feels like the best thing I’ve ever created.
Then comes a phase I absolutely love: the song becomes the soundtrack to my life. I play it constantly, discovering new layers with each listen. It’s personal, and I feel deeply connected to it. I’m proud of what I’ve made and believe it’s something special.
But at some point, doubt inevitably creeps in, usually just before or during the recording process. The voices of insecurity start: Is this really good? Has it been done before? Will anyone care? It’s natural to question your work, but here’s the truth: it’s okay not to love your song every step of the way.
Those moments of doubt often come right before breakthroughs. The key is to stay in service to the music. The song isn’t here to please us; it’s about what the song needs. Trust the process, even when it gets tough. Push through the insecurities and let the song take shape in its own way, rather than forcing it into something it’s not.
If you’re in that place of uncertainty right now, remember: you’re not alone. Trust yourself, trust the song, and stay true to meaning being the music.
Conclusion: Embrace the Journey
Songwriting is always evolving. No two songs are ever the same, and no part of the process is ever static. Each song presents its own set of challenges, joys, and revelations, and that's what makes the journey so dynamic.
The most important thing is to walk the line between being attentive and flexible, both to your own needs and to the needs of the song as it develops. There will be times when you need to push through doubts, and others when you need to step back and give it space to breathe. The key is to remain adaptable, open to where the song wants to take you, and in tune with the ever-changing flow of the creative process.
I hope these questions offer you a bit of guidance when you're feeling stuck, frustrated, or even just overwhelmed. Whether you need a slap across the face to snap you out of it, or a big hug to remind you you're not alone—these questions are here to help you reconnect, refocus, and keep moving forward.
About the Writer: Ari Jacob
I've been a songwriter for as long as I can remember, creating music almost as soon as I could make sounds. At 19, I released my first EP, and since then, I’ve recorded five solo albums of original music, one collaborative project with a duo, and produced countless albums for artists within the Indie/Folk/Pop genres across Australia, Israel, and the US. Music has also led me into other creative realms—I’ve composed scores for podcasts, film, and dance performances. Most recently, I wrote, composed, produced, and performed in my own original musical theatre production, Son Called Moon.