When Songwriting Feels Like a Job—Here’s What Brought Me Back

By Marty Dodson – SongTown Co-Founder

After I’d been writing for several years, there came a point when songwriting started to feel like… a job. And not the fun kind. I’d look at my calendar and actually dread some of the co-writes I had scheduled. Not because the people weren’t great, but because I just wasn’t feeling inspired. I had gotten into the habit of saying “yes” to everything—even when the idea didn’t excite me, or I knew deep down it wasn’t the right creative fit.

That’s when the voices in my head started to creep in.

“None of these are hit ideas.” “Why are you even bothering to write another song? You’ve already got hundreds sitting around that you can’t get cut.” “Isn’t there something else you could do for a living?” It was a creative funk—and it hit hard.

I wasn’t burned out from working too hard—I was burned out from working without purpose. I had gotten so focused on chasing cuts, writing what I thought the market wanted, and filling my calendar that I’d lost touch with the reason I started writing songs in the first place.

So I did something simple that changed everything:

I got quiet. I sat down, pen and paper in hand, and asked myself, Why did I start writing songs? And you know what? My “why” had nothing to do with hits or industry approval. I started writing because I wanted to express something I didn’t know how to say in a conversation. I wanted to turn my mess into meaning. I wanted to create something beautiful out of the chaos of life. I wanted my voice to be heard. And that… that brought me back.

I started carving out time for passion writes again—just me and my guitar, no pressure, no commercial expectations. Just writing my heart out. I started saying “no” to the writes that didn’t feel right. And I started chasing ideas that made my heart beat a little faster—not because they sounded like hits, but because they sounded like me – like something I would love to listen to.

If you’re a songwriter in a similar place right now—uninspired, tired, or doubting your path—I want you to ask yourself the same question: Why did you start writing songs? Go back to that place. Reconnect with it. Because that “why” is your creative compass. When everything else feels off—industry pressures, pitching frustrations, writer’s block—that’s the one thing that can guide you home.

You’re not alone. We all hit those valleys. But if you can remember your “why,” you’ll find the strength to keep showing up… and the joy that makes it all worthwhile.

Write on,
Marty Dodson