Finding Time to Write: a “Flashback” Post from 15 years ago. Still True?

by Jacqueline Vick

Some writers snatch a few moments of time wherever they find it. Others adhere to strict schedules. Walter Mosley tells us to write every day. Peter Brett wrote his first novel on his smartphone during his daily travels on the F train. Do you follow a set writing schedule? Write every day? Have a favorite writing spot? Do you put ‘butt to chair’ until you’ve finished a specific word count? Tell us about your writing schedule.

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Writers Write by Bonnie Schroeder

I try (emphasis on “try”) to write every day first thing in the morning — okay, I feed the dogs and make coffee first and then retreat to my desk with one dog underfoot and one cat in my lap. On my desk, I have a kitchen timer that I set for one hour. Some days, I actually write for the full hour before the phone rings or the other cat barfs or my stomach starts growling. Some days I have to stop the timer until the aforementioned distractions are dealt with; then I try to finish the hour later on. I don’t always make my goal, but occasionally, I actually exceed it.

For me, the important thing is to try for it every day — weekends included. It keeps the circuits open and the muse engaged. When I worked at a job 50 miles away with a two-plus hour daily commute, there were times when I could only manage 15 minutes a day, so an hour is a huge luxury for me now. But even with those quarter-hour writing sessions, I finished the draft of a novel. It took a few years, but that daily contact with the pages kept them in my mind and kept me plugged into the current. And that, to me, is the secret: write something every day, even if it’s just a paragraph or even a sentence. Then I can legitimately say, “I’m a writer.”

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Lucky by Jacqueline Vick

I’m extremely lucky. I was able to quit my day job to pursue writing full-time. (Well, writing AND homemaking full time.) That means that every morning when I rise, my day is my own and my schedule is whatever I want. Sounds great, doesn’t it? There are a few downsides.

When I’m working on a novel manuscript, there is no boss handing me deadlines, no client with a specific need to fill. I have to set all of those goals myself…and keep them. Repercussions can be a wonderful motivator; without them, it’s more difficult to stay on course.

My deadlines consist of “finish the first draft by May 1st.” I’m always happy to find a short story contest, because that gives me a specific deadline and specific criteria to meet.

Yesterday, I was talking to my brother, who is a personal coach, and he said that the difficulty most people run into is keeping promises to themselves. They don’t value their own time and their own goals as much as they value other people’s time and goals. I’m starting to get around this by setting more specific goals and deadlines and then pretending that I work for a fabulous author named Jacqueline Vick. She has high expectations, and I don’t want to disappoint her. I imagine her asking me to have the rewrites on chapter one on her desk by Friday. It’s a bit kooky, but it works.

I write every day, including weekends. My butt is in the chair for about 8 hours on weekdays, a few hours here and there on Saturday and Sunday. I write in the only place available to me–the dining room table. It’s a pain to keep cleaning off the table each night, but the thought of my husband reaching around a stack of papers for the pepper mill helps keep me organized.

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Writing Away by Jackie Houchin

For an organized, everything-in-its-place kind of person, my writing schedule is very haphazard and irregular. I mostly write when a deadline looms, so I’m thankful I have those. I write reviews for magazines and articles for a newspaper and newsletters. If I don’t get my copy in, it doesn’t get printed, and I don’t get paid. Simple as that, and no amount of boo-hoo’ing will fix it. The next issue already looms on the horizon.

If I were to write a book, I fear I would find myself writing franticly for 23 hours every day during the last weeks before the agent/editor/publisher’s scheduled deadline. I admire my fellow Wonder Women, who persistently and faithfully write for months and even years to bring their creations into the world. Their ultimate satisfaction will far outshine my instant bursts of pride.

So which style is best? “Whatever works for you.” Yeah, you’ve heard that before, but it’s true. Whether it’s dedicating specific minutes, hours, and days to craft a novel or franticly writing and rewriting and “ripping the paper out of a typewriter” before rushing it to an editor…it doesn’t matter. If our words, opinions, ideas, and stories are read (sooner or later), well, that’s what counts.

That’s my opinion, and I’m sticking to it. Now, let’s see… when’s my next deadline?

PS: Where do I write? Either at my dinosaur desktop PC in my office until the “backside” can’t stand sitting anymore, or more recently, standing at the breakfast bar in the corner of my kitchen with a 6-foot cat tree behind me (usually occupied by three cats lounging and looking over my shoulder, and trying to foil my thought processes with their diabolical purring and mind games) while I pound away on my laptop.

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“Finding Time to Write,” from June 2009, was reposted by Jackie Houchin.

Photo by Andrey Grushnikov: 

Writing in the Other Place by Kate Thornton

Kate Thornton is a retired US Army officer who enjoys writing both mysteries and science fiction. With over 100 short stories in print, she teaches a short story class and is currently working on a series of romantic suspense novels. She divides her time between Southern California and Tucson, Arizona.







Writing in the Other Place

Writing is a solitary pursuit; when we write, we are alone with just a gazillion characters, situations, what-ifs and possibilities. It is a good time to create, experiment, and procrastinate.

Writing needs its own space, its own time and place. For some, it is the dining room table after the kids are asleep, or the home office complete with bookshelves and cat. For others it is the local Starbuck’s or the cluttered desk at work before work starts.

For a few of us, it is a different house in a different state.


I live in Paradise, in Southern California, where it is beautiful every single day of the year. I live in the house of my dreams, a mid-century modern masterpiece of light and space, with lush gardens and a small pool. I have my own office, a light-filled room with bookshelves. I am fortunate to see these dreams realized after a lifetime of hard work.

So what’s the problem?

Like a suitor who has been wooing the beautiful sister only to have his heart stolen by the mousy little girl with the great personality, I have been seeing another house on the side for a couple of years. A vacation home to start, it has become The Place and will soon become my permanent home.

I am moving to Tucson, Arizona. 


Photo by Albert Voirin

Yes, the house is smaller, not so beautiful, with a much smaller garden. A garden, I might add, not filled with fruit trees and orchids, but cactus, for crying out loud. There isn’t a home office, just a little desk almost big enough for my laptop. Yes, the light alternates between blinding sun and dark clouds. Yes, it is hotter than buried coals in the summer and it actually freezes in the winter. There are monsoons and floods and heat so dry you could juggle your laundry in the air for 10 minutes and everything would be perfectly crisp.

But what can I do? It is the place where I can write. It is the place where I can be happy. When I am there, I don’t want to come back. When I am there, I write.

I have friends there now, and enjoy the company of other writers. There is a thriving community of arts and letters in Tucson, and now I am a part of it.

So I am moving there. Moving – especially at my age – is a big pain, but it is necessary. I can’t believe how much junk I have accumulated over just the last ten years, but only the necessities are going with us. Yes, my dear husband is on board with this. In fact, he may be even more eager to move than I.

Photo by Albert Voirin


So for now, we make periodic trips across the deserts to take stuff and when I am there, I write. I have dug out trunk novels and unfinished short stories. I spend time at the computer undistracted by television or Facebook or anything. I feel the light and the sun on me, and the gentle whoosh of the air conditioner or the cries of unfamiliar birds through an open door or the crackle of a log in the fireplace. And sometimes, I hear the pounding of rain, relentless, almost frightening in its intensity. But when I get up to look, the sky is already clear and the sun is making steam rise from a hot pavement.


I make a cup of tea and go back to the computer. I dread the night before we leave, when everything gets packed up for the trip back.

I have found my writing place and it is 500 miles from where I am writing this now.

I look forward to this new chapter in my life, although I know I won’t have much of an excuse for procrastination there. All the more reason to do it.