A lot of students struggle with making time to write regularly, especially if it means saying no to other people. Kids, partners, friends, family, pets—all these beings can make demands on our time, and many folks feel guilty or sheepish staking out time to write if it means saying no to loved ones.
For years, I clung to some pretty painful myths about being a writer: That I had to write every day. That I had to write for hours at a stretch. That I had to wake up at 4am so I could squeeze in writing before work or school. That I had to write alone, holed up in my house. Worst of all, some deep part of me believed that if I didn’t do these things, I wasn’t a real writer—I was an imposter. That I was squandering my potential and could never hope to publish or have writing be a major, meaningful part of my life.
Teachers, other writers, and things I read often supported these myths. In my mid-twenties, I timidly approached a famous poet after a reading. She’d talked about Toni Morrison’s practice of waking up before dawn to write for several hours and said she followed the same routine. I shamefully admitted that I struggled to wake up early and found it difficult to make regular time to write.
She studied me for a moment, then said, “Maybe you’re not cut out to be a writer.”
I mumbled thank you (though for what I wasn’t sure) and slunk away, face blistering with embarrassment. Yet deep in my heart, I knew she was wrong. I knew how important writing was to me. There must be another way.
It took me years of struggle and self-criticism before I realized two important things:
Those writing myths are just that: myths. They are false and often ableist (Esme Weijun Wang has a great essay about this in the July/August 2023 print issue of Poets & Writers magazine. Sadly, it’s not available online).
What I need to write regularly is actually very simple. I need outside accountability. I need to ask for support from others. Once I realized that and started building my writing practice around it, the drama and hand-wringing about writing started to diminish.
Here are some things that work well for me and for many of my students:
Begin with small goals and slowly increase them. If you want to write every day, aim for three days a week. If you want to write for three hours at a time, start with one. Once you’ve established a routine that works, you can gradually increase your frequency, if you want to.
Small is mighty. SARK, one of my favorite writers on creativity, talks about the power of “micro-movements” - taking five seconds to five minutes to do something creative. These bits of time seem completely inconsequential, but they add up, and completing them builds our confidence and helps take the built-up pressure and expectations off our writing. Examples: Journal on the bus, carry a notebook with you and jot down thoughts throughout your day, or set a timer and write for five minutes.
Put writing time on your calendar. Treat it like an important obligation that you would do without questioning, like going to a doctor’s appointment.
Go to a coffee shop or another third space outside of your house.
Write with local writing accountability groups like Driftless Writing Center or Art Lit Lab.
Join a writing group.
Write with a friend.
Take a class.
Work with a mentor who will give you homework and deadlines and help you better understand your challenges and needs around writing.
Finally, please be compassionate with yourself. You will put writing time on your calendar and ignore it. You will get a good routine going and then it won’t work anymore. You’ll get sick and need to take time off.
Reassess your goals often and make sure they’re still realistic. If not, what needs to change? How can you expect less of yourself, be more flexible, or ask for help? Writing is something that should bring us connection, nourishment, and joy. How can you bring more of those qualities into the way you approach getting to the page?
Let me know what you’ve tried, what works for you, and what doesn’t. I love learning about others’ creative practices!