Why I’m Joining the 31-Day Blogging Challenge Again
Every year since I began blogging, I’ve taken part in the Nester’s 31 Days series, a month-long challenge that invites writers to focus on a single theme and publish every day for 31 consecutive days. It’s an intense commitment, but it has consistently pushed me to create, experiment, and share more than I would during a typical month.
The very first time I joined, I wrote a series called 31 Days of Getting Ready for a Craft Fair. I crafted, photographed, tweaked designs, and wrote posts about preparing inventory, pricing, display ideas, and the small logistical details that make a craft fair day go smoothly. Halfway through, I questioned whether I was a little crazy to keep up the pace and wondered if anyone was actually reading. Sticking with it paid off in unexpected ways: that project opened doors I hadn’t imagined—my burlap Christmas stockings appeared in Better Homes and Gardens, and a small blue bird sign I shared took off on Pinterest.
After that first year, I challenged myself again. One October I published 31 Days to Make Your Home Uniquely You, where I shared ideas for styling, small DIY projects, and tips to personalize living spaces without costly renovations. Another year I spent the month on a practical crash course: 31 Days of Cooking for a Crowd, writing down everything I learned about scaling recipes, presentation, timing, and menu planning for larger groups. Each of these series taught me something new—about process, about audience, and about my own capacity to follow through.
Now October is almost here again, and I’m at that familiar crossroads: should I commit to daily posting for an entire month? Early on I thought I would skip it this year—I wondered if I could realistically keep up with daily content alongside the other demands in my life. But one of my goals for this year has been to intentionally make room for activities I love. Blogging is firmly on that list, alongside hands-on projects around the house and creative time that refreshes me.
So, with a mix of excitement and apprehension, I’ve decided to jump back in. Starting October 1st, I’ll be publishing a new post every day for 31 days. This challenge will be a chance to reconnect with readers, practice consistent content creation, and share concrete ideas, tips, and inspiration related to a focused theme.
The exact topic is still taking shape. I’m leaning toward a theme that blends practical home projects with approachable creativity—something that reflects the kinds of posts readers have responded to in the past: accessible DIYs, smart entertaining tips, seasonal decor ideas, and step-by-step guides that help you get things done without fuss. Whatever I choose, my aim is to offer honest, useful content: projects you can actually complete, tips that save time, and photos that show the real, imperfect process behind the finished result.
Why take on a 31-day challenge again? For me, it’s about more than page views. The discipline of daily posting forces clearer thinking, better planning, and a willingness to experiment. It revives routines—photography, editing, and scheduling—that often slip when life gets busy. It also creates a creative rhythm that helps ideas flow, and it opens opportunities to connect with new readers and collaborators.
If you’re considering a similar challenge—whether for blogging, photo-a-day, or another creative practice—my advice is to choose a theme that excites you, set realistic expectations, batch as much work as possible, and give yourself permission to keep it simple. Consistency matters more than perfection.
I’m looking forward to sharing this next 31-day series with you. Expect honest projects, practical tips, and a few surprises along the way. If you’ve joined a creative challenge before, I’d love to hear what you learned—and if you’re thinking of trying one yourself, consider this your friendly nudge to say yes.
The countdown is on: 31 days of focused blogging begins tomorrow, October 1st. Stay tuned for the first post—topic announcement and a schedule to come.
