Books are big projects.
Before spending months (or years) writing one, I’ve troubleshot most aspects of the book-writing process to create a system that works for me. I share it here not because I think you can adopt it and have identical results, but rather so you have a jumping off point for your own custom routine.
I compulsively read people’s writing routines because I am the sort of nosy creative who enjoys poking around the way someone else works. Much like going on studio visits or looking at home tours online. Fascinating.
This is not the be all end all writing routine, even for me. I’m sure it will change again. But I’m making excellent progress now, so here is what’s working:
How I’m writing a nonfiction book in under six months.
The first step was the most painful. I’m working on a novel as well as this nonfiction book, and up until the beginning of 2024, I was trying to write them both at the same time. Reader, this did not work.
One book at a time.
While fiction and nonfiction are different, they still require the energy of translating words, images, and ideas in your head into words on a page. By trying to do this for two book-length projects, I was making nearly no progress on either of them.
I refer back to the illustration from Greg McKeowan’s Essentialism to distill this down:
I’m never going to achieve the picture on the right, given that life is already taking energy for things like bathing, eating, making money, paying taxes on that money etc. If I break my energy up even further by writing multiple books simultaneously, I’ll be lucky if my arrow even extends outside the circle.
This was my reality the last year. In early January, I consciously set my novel aside until the summer to finish the nonfiction book first.
It feels like I put on a booster jetpack. Wowza. If you haven’t tried cutting down to one project only, I recommend it, even just for a week, to see what it feels like.
Do I miss working on my novel? Absolutely. Am I going to cheat and work on it before the current book is done? Absolutely not.
Scheduled co-writing time.
I am fortunate to run a year-long community that is full of incredible writers. As part of the program, I run four hour-long co-working writing sessions. It’s like study hall and we show up, say what we’ll be working on and write for an hour.
I have these scheduled into my calendar at the same times each week through 2024. Four hours a week, I show up to work on my book not only for myself, but because my students are counting on me to be there, too.
While other places offer co-working, like the London Writers’ Salon, with times suitable worldwide, I find familiar faces from the same community motivate me far more than random strangers do. I feel accountable to my established community.
Writing for an hour in the community co-working generates twice as much as I’d do in the same amount of time on my own. I’ve built my entire timeline around these sessions.
Inside-out planning.
Many people, myself included, have suffered from the experience of planning a project outside-in. We arbitrarily choose a length of time that feels reasonable to complete the project and then cram the workload into average chunks through that time. But this tends to go the way of home renovation projects.
While it may seem reasonable to write a book / renovate a bathroom in three months, if you don’t know how long it takes to complete the steps in the time-space reality the project is going to happen in, stuff is going to get off track really fast.
Instead of setting a big goal for the project right away, I start with a series of experiments:
Break the project into topical segments. My current book is on writing fears, so I created a Scrivener document with a pre-made sub-document for each of the fears I wanted to cover.
Spend a week or two with an easy goal based on segment: I wrote one segment per day, five days a week for several weeks to see how it went.
Adjust the metrics to fit your energy level and schedule: I realized I was dragging on Fridays, but had more energy on Monday after a weekend break, so I tried writing five sections over four days with three days off. Better.
Keep adjusting: After two weeks of this method, I tried two sections, a longer one and a shorter one, each day four days a week, and it was fine.
Calculate the end date based on your routine: Once I knew I could comfortably write two sections a week, I counted out how long it would take to finish the draft, added on time for revision, proofreading, formatting and cover design.
Talk about your end date. Only once I have an end date I’m confident in will I set a publication date and talk about the book. Now that I know I can reach this goal by writing in a way that suits me, sharing about the book feels exciting, rather than scary.
Prepare to be surprised.
While I have test-driven my method, broken things down into units, and am writing with others, I have a curve-ball coming this week: travel.
The entire process up to now has happened at my writing desk at home, where I am in full control of my surroundings and have all my usual tools available. We are off to visit family and friends for two weeks, which means I am adding some exciting unknowns to the equation:
No dedicated writing space
Irregular schedule
9 hours’ time difference and jet lag
Being asleep during two of my usual co-writing sessions a week
Busy social schedule
Other things my obsessive brain hasn’t worried about yet
Knowing that I have another month once I return before my deadline to complete the full manuscript, I can be more flexible while traveling. I’ll join two co-writing sessions a week, so a familiar anchor will be on my side.
Plus, as I write more and more, the magnetic pull toward the end will kick in, which is always an extremely satisfying point.
In order to get the most out of this, I share my final secret tool:
The sticker tracking chart
In addition to having each segment of the book in Scrivener, where I can change the status from “to do” to “first draft” as I finish it, I have made this chart in my bullet journal:
Tangible progress
Writing a book is an abstract thing until it’s done. I have two ways to make this feel more tangible along the way. First, I have broken writing fear into types that I’ve seen over and over. With reflection, these match up with the minor arcana of the tarot. Each fear links to a tarot card in my book. Picturing each fear as a symbol helps the book feel more solid.
Second, I made a chart with a box for each card/fear. On a writing day, I write one minor card and one court card. When I complete my sections for the day, I get a sticker for each card/fear I’ve written.
Not everyone is a big sticker person, but even if you’re not, crossing out a box is also quite satisfying. Motivation comes from seeing progress, so I recommend tracking the work you’ve completed on paper somehow, so you see your effort add up.
What about your routine?
What are the features of your writing routines? I’d love to hear more tricks and approaches people use in the comments section. Let’s discuss!
I’ve finished my two sections for today, so I’m happy to reply to questions about any other aspects of my routine below.
Ooh I love this! I've been super optimistic (slightly delusional) with how long I think things are going to take as I'm writing my book at the moment, especially as I'm seeking out more shiny things and instant dopamine hits than ever, particularly when things get hard. This was a wonderful and very supportive and much-needed read, thank you so much for sharing!
I’m chronically distracted when writing. One of the best tactics I’ve found is having a separate account that’s Scrivener and little else. No hopping onto LinkedIn (why is LinkedIn a huge distraction?), Reddit, etc.