"To write about something sad and dark, I need to feel content, to feel a sense of well being. I can't write when I'm depressed," Lucinda Williams told me.

Much of my discussion with Williams focused on how we prepare to write. By her own admission, she's obsessed with paper. "I could spend hours in an office supply store," says Williams. A comfortable chair is necessary too, but not too comfortable because, well, it's easy to fall asleep in a deep chair. And coffee is important, not necessarily because of the caffeine but because of the nostalgic element.

We also did some close reading of her father's poetry. I've been a big fan of Miller Williams for many years and taught his poems when I was in academia. We discussed his ability to take decidedly unpoetic images and phrases like radar detector and cellular phone and make them beautiful.

Lucinda Williams' latest album is called World's Gone Wrong.

"I've been very happy lately, and that's worrying," KT Tunstall told me. "It's much easier to write sad songs than happy songs. Happiness makes you want to be present, but pain makes you want to escape. And music has always been a way for me to get out."

Tunstall is adamant about not writing every day. "I love doing nothing, so mindless puttering is especially effective. When she finally sits down, she has rules: no blue pens, and the paper has to be unlined. Why unlined? Because she hates being told what to do, and lined paper represents a means of control.

Tunstall is celebrating the 20th anniversary of her debut album Eye to the Telescope with a deluxe edition out now.

Why do so many of us feel the need to clean our space before we create? Melody Prochet (aka Melody's Echo Chamber) and I discuss why it's important to our respective writing processes. When she's not writing in that nice and tiny space, she's walking along the water, another important element to her songwriting.

The latest album by Melody's Echo Chamber is called Unclouded.

"Pants delivery was my eureka moment," Julien Ehrlich of Whitney says on the pod, and with that we have my favorite out-of-context pull quote.

Ehrlich was not speaking metaphorically: when he and bandmate Max Kakacek were writing Whitney's first album, he drove a clothing delivery van that had no working radio. The monotonous drives were great sources of inspiration. Kakacek, on the other hand, was a competitive swimmer until he turned 18. Swimming endless laps staring at the bottom of the pool was a boon to his creative process. Kakacek runs now, where the monotony takes on a new shape: he listens to the same song over and over for his entire run.

"Lyrics don't come naturally to our brain," they said. "Our North Star is the melody." One big change to their process is learning how to tweak less.

Whitney's latest album is Small Talk.

“I’m a ‘go in phases’ type of gal. It took me a year and a half to write this record, but it came in blocks,” Gatlin says. It’s how she manages her routine in those blocks that makes her songwriting process so fascinating. Gatlin is most effective between 3pm and 5pm, and thanks to a typing class she took as a child, she can type those lyrics at 95 words per minute. She finds walks to be particularly inspiring for lyrics, but when she’s with her guitar, Gatlin sits cross-legged and gently rocks back and forth as a way to focus. And just like many songwriters have told me, bathrooms are especially productive.

Gatlin’s latest album is Eldest Daughter on Dualtone Records.

"I made a conscious effort on this album to be more disciplined in my writing because my ideas were getting stale and I was writing from the same place," Mariel Buckley told me. "I realized that my material was becoming repetitive when I was waiting for inspiration to strike."

Buckley's new process involved writing every day and writing from a more joyful place. The result is her fantastic new album Strange Trip Ahead.

Etta Friedman and Allegra Weingarten of Momma return! Momma is my favorite band and their new album Welcome to My Blue Sky is my favorite album of 2025. At least I'm consistent since I said the same thing about them when they were on the pod in 2023. (Their live show is absolutely killer too.)

Friedman and Weingarten have been writing together since their teens, and one thing hasn't changed over the years: they still write most of their songs in Etta's bedroom. But as you'll hear, there are exceptions. Weingarten wrote the riff to "Medicine" in the shower, and the title track to the new album got its start in a green room.

"I'm a professional daydreamer," Conor Oberst of Bright Eyes told me. That's the catch-22: are you really daydreaming if you're aware that you're doing it? Daydreaming leads to eureka moments, but only when you don't sit down and say, "I'm going to daydream." As with most people, the eureka moments for Oberst involve mundane activities for a practical reason: no one interrupts him when he's doing the dishes or cleaning a room.

The perfect daydream for Oberst involves looking out a window when he's in motion and things are going by. When Oberst writes, he uses both sides of the notebook: the right side is the final version of the lyrics, and the left side is filled with the unpolished, rougher versions.

The latest release from Bright Eyes is Kids Table.