A Magical Guide to Building A Writing Habit That Lasts

Getting into the habit of writing is one of the biggest challenges for any beginner writer. It’s a chaotic process at first, when your attention is easily pulled in a million different directions, and your ability to write and create seems entirely in the hands of the muses.

But the ability to write consistently isn’t about the muse, but about habit. Just like the fact that this article was written on the train on my commute to work—I might be tired and not in the mood for it now, but because I’ve built the habit, I’m writing simply because I’m on the train and it is one of my designated writing times.

So how do we create this habit?

To answer this question, you’ll need to identify two things: the time for writing, and the place.

The Witching Hour

Consider your day, habits and energy levels, and ask yourself: what time of day would fit writing best?

Popular options include first thing in the morning before all chaos breaks loose, the evening after work (if the workday didn’t crush your spirit), or late night once the kids are in bed and the chaos is over, ready to restart again tomorrow. I even heard about someone writing during their lunch break at work.

The key factors here are: how quiet is this time, and how likely are you to be distracted?

Think of a time and commit to it. You can always change it or add more time later, but you have to start with something.

But why can’t you just wing it, you ask? Why not be flexible and use whatever time you can find?

Because that doesn’t build a habit.

Take an example from Freud—he wasn’t the best or most original of psychoanalysts at his time (and his theory was completely flawed, but that’s besides the point now), but he earned a name for himself where other psychoanalysts failed.

He did that by establishing a club. Each Wednesday at a certain time, the club would meet at his house and discuss things that psychoanalysts discuss.

Another psychoanalyst tried to form his own club, meeting in different cafes at different times, but managed to achieve much less success.

It’s about creating a system, a fact: “when this time comes, I write”.

The archmage’s laboratory

Once you’ve identified the time, you’ll need to choose a place.

An important thing to consider here is whether you work better alone, or if you’re your own worst enemy—seeking distractions when things get too quiet.

There’s quite a bit of research about performance in the presence of other people, and it turns out people often do better when they know someone might be watching.

For instance, I know I distract myself much less in a cafe, since I don’t want people to see me watching cat videos or The Office compilations on my laptop. I want them to see me writing and think, “I wish I was that focused”.

Now, this doesn’t mean that you have to go to a cafe every time. But it helps to analyze your patterns a little and figure out what works best for you.

Do you need background noise or silence? Do you need to be alone or surrounded by others?

Once you’ve figured that out, choose a place—and commit to it.

Think of your mind as one of Freud’s buddies attending his psychoanalysis club: going to that designated place simply because it is time.

Only that for your mind it’s not because it’s a Wednesday afternoon and it’s time to hang out with Freud, but because it’s (insert your time and place of choosing here) and it’s writing time. 

With practice, the location might work even if it’s not writing time yet, or vice versa.

The Ceremonial Robes

So far we’ve covered the foundations: place and time.

Any article might have told you that, but I promised a different twist—and you’re still waiting. I know. I just needed to build the house before I could decorate it.

The decorations are additional cues that can—with time—trick your mind into that elusive writing mood. Think of this as setting this time apart from all other times, hitting the switch that lights up that neon sign that buzzes: “it’s writing o'clock!”

These cues can be simple things: a candle for atmosphere, a soft table lamp, tea in a cozy, special mug by your side—anything you wouldn’t do or use at other times.

I once bought blue-light glasses that promised to protect my eyes from screen light. I don’t know how valid that claim is, but I do know that I only put them on when I’m at home, writing. When I have these glasses on, I’m Yani the Writer, not Yani the Consultant or Yani who watches The Office videos on YouTube.

The idea is to get your mind to build an association: linking the writing mood to certain things.

And while it may feel forced at first, with time, using those elements—certain times, specific places and ritual items—can help you write even when you’re not in the mood for it. No muse required.

Conclusion

If you’ve battled against yourself but couldn’t build a writing habit yet—the problem could simply be lack of structure. And even though writing is a creative art, having a system around it can help get things started.

So close this tab (but if you found this article valuable—consider subscribing before you go) find your magical place and time, put your writing hat on, and get to writing!