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Writing Hit Songs on Freewrite: An Interview with JP Saxe

Annie Cosby
August 19, 2024 | 10 min read

The lyrics of JP Saxe’s most popular songs read more like poems than Top 40 tunes.

Turns out there’s a reason for that.

This Grammy-nominated songwriter found his first community in Los Angeles at Da Poetry Lounge, where he met and befriended bonafide poets like Tonya Ingram, Alyesha Wise, Cuban Hernandez, and Edwin Bodney — names he recites with reverence.

And that community has led to a vibrant career in songwriting, including this recent milestone JP shared on Instagram: his songs have been streamed one billion times on Spotify.

His songs have been streamed one billion times on Spotify.

It’s difficult to visualize that number, but his other accomplishments are a little easier to wrap your brain around:

His hit “If the World Was Ending,” cowritten with and featuring Julia Michaels, was nominated for a Grammy. After a 30-stop tour opening for music legend John Mayer, JP did his own 70-stop headline tour that took him all over the world. He’s written songs with artists like Sabrina Carpenter, and "Wish You the Best," written with Lewis Capaldi, reached number one in the UK.

So how does a poetic songwriter turn his thoughts and emotions into chart-topping hits?

The short answer: Freewriting.

Read on for the long answer as we get into the nitty gritty of JP's creative process...

ANNIE COSBY: So it’s safe to say you’re majorly inspired by poetry?

JP SAXE: Most of my favorite writers are poets. I think the secret weapon of my career has been that I've been seeking the approval of poets, not other songwriters.

Because when I aim for the perspective of poets, I just write in such a different way.

Look, I love songwriters, so I don't mean to talk shit. But as a songwriter, you can hide some bullshit in a pretty melody and people will still buy it. It can still be nice to listen to.

As a poet, you have less to hide behind. It's just you and your sincerity, and the way you articulate that sincerity. I love the simplicity of that as an art form.

My first community when I moved to Los Angeles was Da Poetry Lounge, based out of the Greenway Court Theatre. Anyone in L.A. reading this, if you're a writer, I highly recommend going.

Those poets have become family to me and really have pushed me to be a better writer. Because if I do something that is lazy or contrived, they don't care how pretty it sounds.

If I do something that is lazy or contrived, [poets] don't care how pretty it sounds.

AC: What kind of writer do you consider yourself?

JP: Professionally, I'm a songwriter. That's the only kind of writing I've ever been paid for. But creatively, I just consider myself a writer.

I find myself and I articulate to myself who I am via writing. In more ways than just songs.

AC: How did you first get started writing?

JP: Songwriting was the first place I ever learned what it meant to have a good relationship with myself. I quite disliked myself as a young person, as I think young people often do. Because when you see yourself through the lens of the society around you, there are very few versions of being a person that seem acceptable.

And it was sitting down at a piano or a guitar with a journal and writing songs where I first understood what it felt like to see myself and like it.

When you see yourself through the lens of the society around you, there are very few versions of being a person that seem acceptable. And it was sitting down at a piano or a guitar with a journal and writing songs where I first understood what it felt like to see myself and like it.

To me, the magic of songwriting and creative expression in general is, in my experience, as a tool of self-understanding. But because we are so much less unique than we think, when you look for yourself in your art, other people find themselves in it, too.

That was such a major realization for me a few years ago — that what made my writing effective for others wasn't what made me unique, it was what made me basic. And that there was such power in the expression of my basicness.

AC: Are you always writing for yourself first?

JP: Usually, the first format I'm writing in is just freewriting.

AC: You know we love to hear that!

JP: Yes. I will sit down with a journal, and I will just heart-barf onto a page.

AC: *laughs* Do you have "heart-barf" copyrighted?

JP: I should at this point. I've used that terminology in a number of different mediums, t-shirts included.

But, yes, freewriting is usually the beginning of the process. First, I just have to barf onto a page, just let words happen, and then I can go back through with an editor's mentality and figure out whether I'm writing songs or poems or whatever.

Of course, if I'm going with another artist into the studio, that's a little bit different in that it's targeted to a specific format or a specific person's perspective.

I will sit down with a journal, and I will just heart-barf onto a page.

AC: You write very deeply emotional lyrics. Do you have to be in a certain state of mind for that, or can you sit down in the middle of, like, the airport and heart-barf?

JP: Well, I have two answers to that.

Firstly, I find I am more honest before I think about anyone reading it. So that's why I try not to think about what the writing is for when I start. It allows me to be more sincere when I don't have a reader or a listener in mind.

Something I’ve been noticing recently is I am stumbling into the ideas that interest me the most after I've started writing when I didn't feel like it.

Almost as if when I feel like writing, it's because there are ideas closer to the surface. But when I don't feel like writing and I do it anyway, the ideas that I arrive at were buried a little deeper down. They didn't want to come out as badly and therefore they are more intriguing.

I am stumbling into the ideas that interest me the most after I've started writing when I didn't feel like it.

AC: That’s so interesting. Almost like when you feel like writing, your subconscious already has an agenda.

JP: Yeah, my favorite things I've written recently happened when I started writing when I didn't want to.

 

AC: I remember reading an interview with you where you mentioned Fleabag and a quote by Phoebe Waller-Bridge where she's like, and this is paraphrased, if it scares you, it needs to be in the final edit.

JP: Totally. I saw that interview around the time of my first album. There's a song on my first album that got kept on the track list because of that interview.

I just really related to that. You know, one, Fleabag is one of my favorite shows of all time. So great.

AC: The hot priest!

JP: Phenomenal, iconic characters. Overall, I think that being a writer is such a blessing and I'm so grateful to do it, so if I am playing it safe with my subject matter, I'm kind of doing it a disservice.

Every job comes with its professional hazards. If it's your dream to be a hockey player, you accept that you might get CTE or lose some teeth.

If you get the blessing of being a writer, you accept that people are going to see more of you than you're comfortable with sometimes.

If you get the blessing of being a writer, you accept that people are going to see more of you than you're comfortable with sometimes.

AC: Were you always OK with that, or did you have to learn to get used to that?

JP: I think I just came to the conclusion along the way that trying to formulate my identity was far less exciting than trying to unravel it.

AC: That's interesting, especially in the context of our modern music scene, where you see a lot of created, pre-packaged personas.

JP: Well, occasionally it's a persona that is derived as a mechanism, a delivery mechanism for something that was uncovered. I think there's maybe a subtle distinction there, but one that feels really significant.

For example, one of my favorite artists right now is Chappell Roan. And obviously there's a very creative, formulated artist statement there, but it is so sincere. It feels so derived from a human experience, but they've captured it in a way that is elevating that sincerity rather than disguising it.

AC: I'm glad you made that distinction! I love Chappell Roan. Go, Missouri! We’re both from the Show-Me State. You often work with collaborators, right?

JP: I love writing as a team sport. I think often there is a mentality that there is more value to writing that is done independently, and I just don't subscribe to that.

If anything, I think co-writing really elevates the work. I think it's just as much of a craft to know how to navigate multiple creative voices in a room as it is to express your own.

I love writing as a team sport.

AC: That's amazing to hear, because that's kind of what we're trying to do here at Freewrite — elevating the idea of writing within a community. Writing is traditionally a very solitary exercise, but it doesn't have to be.

JP: There's so much about movie and television writing that I think is a couple steps ahead of songwriting.

AC: Like the writers’ room?

JP: Yeah, TV writers know this. It’s a very established concept that writers work collaboratively on a script.

AC: I would say book publishing is even farther behind songwriting in that regard. So what does your creative process look like? Are you always writing, always recording?

JP: I have to compartmentalize a little bit. There are three major parts of my career and it's very hard for me to do more than one of them well at a time.

Those three things are: touring and performing; writing and creating; and audience building and marketing.

Of course, all three of those things are intertwined, but in order to do any one of those things very well, I can only really prioritize one of them fully at a time.

AC: Interesting. And you’re home from tour and writing now, right?

JP: Yes, I’m very much in this right now. I have a writing week coming up, where I will be with co-writers and in the studio every day.

So I am currently using my Traveler every day to heart-barf, as a way to create my source material for those sessions.

I’ll just do pages and pages and pages of unedited, unrefined feelings, thoughts, explorations, stories, ideas, looking at what I've written already, trying to figure out what pieces are missing in the emotional spectrum I'm trying to capture on this album.

And then in the few days before those sessions, I'll read through all of it. If something seems interesting to me, then I'll take those pieces and further delve into them, either on my own or with co-writers in our writing sessions.

And that's how it starts to shape into something that has a form that a listener can take in.

So I am currently using my Traveler every day to heart-barf, as a way to create my source material for those [co-writing] sessions.

AC: I, not being a songwriter, had never thought of songwriting has having that same division as prose — writing or freewriting first, and then studio work as editing.

JP: I think every writer knows how different the feeling of creative brain and editing brain is. I really need to separate that process because I literally feel like a different person as an editor than I do as a creator.

I have to start by not considering who's reading it, who's hearing it, who it's for, what the melody is … I just have to put it there.

I think every writer knows how different the feeling of creative brain and editing brain is. I really need to separate that process because I literally feel like a different person as an editor than I do as a creator.

AC: So is that what drew you to Freewrite?

JP: Yes. And, I mean, I think part of the fun of being a writer is romanticizing the life of being a writer, too.

When I sit on the rooftop of a cafe in Lima, Peru, and write on Traveler, that is a different moment than being up there with an iPad — I was just in Lima on tour, and this is a real moment I'm describing.

I sat on this just spectacularly romantic gallery cafe rooftop in Barranco, this neighborhood of Lima, and as I'm sitting there and I'm writing, I start up a conversation with this group of people who look friendly sitting beside me, and they ended up being a choreographer and an artist and a dancer. And then they're like, “What's that you're writing on?” And I'm like, “It's a digital typewriter.”

And then I show them and they're like, “What are you writing?” And then I hand it over to them, and they're reading it on the rooftop. And then someone shows up with a guitar.

And there was this moment on that roof that I will never forget where there were like maybe 10 of us. And on one side, there was someone drawing a portrait of me, while I was kind of on the other side of the social dynamic, writing. And then everyone in the middle was laughing, drinking, talking. And it was just this symbiosis of both creatively representing the moment and being present in the moment.

It was life and art so intertwined on that Lima rooftop.

And if I'm painting that picture, like if I'm writing that scene in a movie, or I'm painting it to put it on a wall, an iPad is such a fucking eyesore.

AC: Are we going to get a song about that rooftop?

JP: Probably. The amount of journal entries that occurred on that rooftop is… The word-to-location ratio on that rooftop is probably higher than anywhere else in the world at this point.

AC: Last question: What's your #1 piece of advice for aspiring songwriters?

JP: Write as many bad songs as possible. If you spend a month trying to write a good song, I think you are less likely to get something that you love than if you write a bad song every day for a month.

I think bad writing is the soil in which good writing is allowed to grow. And if you don't have a pile of shit big enough, your good stuff can't grow out of it.

I think bad writing is the soil in which good writing is allowed to grow. And if you don't have a pile of shit big enough, your good stuff can't grow out of it.

AC: You heard it hear first, folks: Write more shit.

Find JP's music wherever you like to listen: Spotify | Apple | YouTube

August 26, 2026 5 min read

Freewriter Mike Somerby left a lucrative marketing career in e-commerce to start a print-only literary magazine by and for Montanans. Yes, you read that right.

We sat down with Mike to find out how ... and why.

Mike Somerby identifies as a writer — with some reservation.

"I think all who write are 'writers,'" he says, "even if the writing itself amounts to a simple letter to a friend or a personal journal entry."

We couldn't agree more. And we're thrilled that this particular writer writes his essays on Freewrite. Maybe that's why we felt comfortable asking him:

What inspires a professional brand marketer to leave his 9-5 and jump feet-first into the literary world of Bozeman, Montana?

Luckily, he was happy to tell us.

AC: Before we get into the lit mag, it actually isn't your first foray into the literary community, right?

MS: For about ten years — the lion's share of my professional chapter — I worked, in some capacity, as a brand marketer. Last spring, while enduring a particularly grueling stint as CMO for a Montanan e-commerce brand (yes, those exist), I found myself revisited by the remarks of an old journalism school professor: from his perspective, journalism students who apply their storytelling talents toward PR and marketing have crossed over to "the dark side."

While I find this a touch heavy-handed, I get the point, and I believe his notion resurfaced to meet the moment: we live in a world sorely hurting for analog (human) creativity and high-quality longform.

So I quit, traveled west with my dog in a 1986 U-Haul I'd converted into a camper, and plotted.

Step one: I founded Pulphead, a lounge (named after John Jeremiah Sullivan’s seminal 2011 essay collection) where Bozeman writers commune and grind out their prose until 2 a.m. Entry is a flat $5, which comes with unlimited drip coffee and tea.

Step two: leverage the Pulphead regulars and its online following to secure contributors for my new literary magazine, ANEMONE. Thus far, everything is going to plan.

We live in a world sorely hurting for analog (human) creativity and high-quality longform.

AC: Why do you think it's so important to create and preserve these spaces for authentic writing?

MS: Writing is a solitary act. Nonetheless, younger generations, in particular, struggle to forge IRL community in the way older generations might understand as an ordinary facet of being human.

By building a space that is as homey as it is supportive of their literary interests, we’re not only helping these individuals find their birds of a feather, but also providing them with a dojo that mandates setting aside blocks of time away from phones, home lives, and the other distractions. Win-win?

Incidentally, Livingston boasts the highest per-capita concentration of professional writers anywhere in the country. Couple this with another statistic — that Montana has more bookstores per capita than any other state — and it becomes clear southwest Montana is as fertile a place as any to invest in literature and its related industries.


AC: That's so interesting. What have you learned from being in community with creatives in Bozeman?

MS: In terms of writing, I've learned plenty. What has excited me most, however, is what I’ve learned from a small group of Indigenous women who come to the shop to write poetry and make beaded clothing in the traditions of their respective tribes (most notably, Crow, Cheyenne, Shoshone).

This is a group I’d otherwise have limited opportunity to engage with outside of Pulphead, and learning about their traditions, beliefs, hopes — even a little vocabulary — through firsthand conversation has proved incredibly edifying.

AC: And you mentioned you've seen Freewrites pop up in Pulphead. You use one, right?

MS: Yes. About seven years ago, not long after moving to Montana from New York, I purchased an Olivetti Lettera 32 typewriter from eBay. It appeared that a romanticizing of my newfound remoteness had rekindled my interest in writing.

I loved the mechanical feel and distraction-free interface, but the inability to edit line by line proved a notable annoyance for a mind habituated to modern computers. A few years down the road, some digging for alternatives led me to a blog post about smart/electronic typewriters. Voilà.

I purchased a Freewrite Gen3 Smart Typewriter, and I've been hooked ever since.

AC: That's awesome. So tell us about ANEMONE. What is it?

MS: ANEMONE is a print-only magazine (printed in a traditional broadsheet newspaper format). As for for theme, broadly, the world as told by Montanans. Short fiction, creative nonfiction, poetry, reportage, photography, and visiual illustrations comprise the submission categories.

AC: Print-only!

MS: Print is only dying because we let it.

AC: Is there a story about the name?

MS: Most people know the word anemone to describe a family of flowers — a 200-plus-species family of buttercups, comprising varieties both wild and domesticated. Dubbed “windflowers,” their delicate petals are said to blow open in the breeze; the ancient Greek word anemos means “wind.” I was drawn to the metaphorical value of beauty and how it can be revealed to us through an invisible force.

To add another layer, when I was a boy my father and I would spend weekends at the beaches north of San Francisco, where I was born and raised until I was seven. We would study the massive turqoise, kelly green, and purple sea anemones clinging to rocks left exposed by the receding Pacific tides (as to why, I can't say, outside of them looking funny, almost alien). A good memory.

Finally, “Anemone” is the name of an exquisite song by The Brian Jonestown Massacre, an irreverent and controversial rock band led by Anton Newcombe, an obsessive creative who rejects the surrender of culture and art to commercial interests. The track has a hold on me. It's like a portal to another era.

AC: Why do you think this sort of analog creativity is important?

MS:  I'm told the unending deluge of digital interface is leaving humans less and less capable of “deep work.” Will we ever know the difference?

Will we recognize what a society incapable of deep work looks like compared with those that came before it? Or will the transition manifest as a gradual degradation of quality, much as Coca-Cola was slowly, but surely, divorced from real sugar, such that to taste what Coke used to be like, one must order a Mexican Coke, still made with real cane sugar?

For me, analog perspective (and any creativity wrung from it) is rooted in continuity, tangibility, lived experience, slowness, spatial relation, nuance, emphasis on process, and grace for imperfection — antithetical to one of replicability, speed, binary outcomes, predictability, and optimization.

I prefer the former, and I suspect those who prefer the latter don't read or write much — life is a beautiful, taxing mess, and good writers find merit in this duality.

For me, analog perspective (and any creativity wrung from it) is rooted in continuity, tangibility, lived experience, slowness, spatial relation, nuance, emphasis on process, and grace for imperfection — antithetical to one of replicability, speed, binary outcomes, predictability, and optimization.

AC: Who is invited to submit to ANEMONE?

MS: We do limit submissions to Montanans, past and present, though we will feature writers from other states should the content of their writing bear an obvious relation to Montana — a requirement not imposed on Montanan writers.

All information regarding submissions can be found at www.anemonereview.com, along with all other facets of the magazine.

August 26, 2026 1 min read

Love the Freewrite 500? Here are 3 more writing contests for competitive short fiction writers.

1) Writers' Hour Magazine Prompts

The London Writer's Salon (a global writing group — no London residence necessary!) regularly host a writing contest via their Writers' Hour Magazine. Want to know a secret? Their September theme is all about freewriting.

Join them for a free workshop, Introduction to Freewriting, on Thursday, September 3, and get all the details about the contest.

The winner of the contest will win something Freewrite-shaped. 👀

2) NYC Midnight Challenges

This organization (again, no affiliation with NYC necessary) regularly hosts short story contests. Their next challenge is all about writing a rhyming story.

Learn more and register here.

Note: NYC Midnight writing contests generally have a fee to enter.

3) Henshaw Press Short Story Competition

This short story competition is open to anyone over age 16. And the best part? There is a cash prize, and profits go to charity.

Learn more here.

July 30, 2026 2 min read

PRESENTED IN COLLABORATION WITH

Calling all micro-fiction storytellers! 🏁

For the second year in a row, Freewrite is teaming up with Grant Faulkner, co-founder of the Flash Fiction Institute and author of The Art of Brevity, to bring you the fastest, most adrenaline-pumping writing event of the year.

Whether you're a seasoned writer or a creative rookie, the Freewrite 500 is your chance to rev up your imagination, write a 500-word story, and win big.

You do not need to own a Freewrite to participate.

[REGISTRATION CLOSED]

 

How It Works

🎟️ Fill out the form above to secure your spot. It's totally free. (You must register to participate.)

📖 Watch the free mini flash fiction lesson by Grant Faulkner, which includes the announcement of the prompt for the contest. WATCH IT HERE.

📝 You'll have the weekend to finish and submit your 500-word storybased on the prompt by end of day on Monday, August 17. Entries must be 500 words or less. The entry form is plain text. Any necessary formatting should be noted in [brackets]. [SUBMISSIONS CLOSED]

✏️ Our judging panel, led by Faulkner and made up of writers from the Freewrite team and the Flash Fiction Institute, will judge each piece based on: length (500 words), relevance to the prompt, and creativity.

🥇 NEW THIS YEAR: The panel will select three finalists, and then announce one grand prize winner.

All work must be submitted by 11:59 p.m. ET on Monday, August 17, 2026.

The Prize Pack

One winner will receive:

  • Publication on the Freewrite blog and Flash Fiction Institute blog
  • 1 Freewrite Traveler
  • 1 hour-long one-on-one coaching session with Grant Faulkner
  • 1 free Flash Gym session with the Flash Fiction Institute
  • 1 Words Are Hard prompt deck
  • A paperback copy of Set Your Story Free, the ultimate guide to freewriting
  • A digital copy of the opening chapter of Grant Faulkner's book, The Art of Brevity

Second and third place writers will each receive:

  • Publication on the Freewrite blog and Flash Fiction Institute blog
  • 1 Freewrite Alpha
  • 1 free Flash Gym session with the Flash Fiction Institute
  • Words Are Hard prompt deck
  • A paperback copy of Set Your Story Free, the ultimate guide to freewriting
  • A digital copy of the opening chapter of Grant Faulkner's book, The Art of Brevity

The Schedule

  • Thursday, Aug 13: Lesson & prompt announcement
  • Monday, Aug 17: Submissions deadline
  • Monday, Aug 31: Finalists announced
  • Monday, September 7: Grand prize winner announced

Questions? You can reach us at hello@getfreewrite.com.

Write on.

The Freewrite 500 Pit Crew 🏁 

Full contest terms and conditions