I once met someone who said they only wrote when inspiration struck. I asked them how often they felt inspired. “Every few months,” they replied, sheepishly.
The mythology of a writer waiting for the muse to strike is absurd. It suggests writing is magical rather than habitual—that it depends on some external force rather than internal discipline, inhibiting us from developing our craft because we believe we lack an essential spark that “real writers” possess.
The truth is more mundane: writing is a habit. Like any habit, it’s built through repetition, not revelation.
Neuroscience tells us that habits form when we create strong neural pathways through consistent practice. The more we write consistently, the less willpower it takes to start. Eventually, writing becomes as automatic as brushing our teeth—something we do without the internal debate about whether we feel like doing it.
Start small. Commit to writing for just 15 minutes every day. This modest goal eliminates the “I don’t have time” excuse and builds the habit without being overwhelming. As James Clear writes in Atomic Habits, “The goal is not to write a book; the goal is to become a writer.”
Attach your writing routine to an existing one—what behavioral scientists call “habit stacking.” Write with your morning coffee or tea, before your evening shower, after you’ve fed the cats. The established habit acts as a trigger for the new one.
Track your progress on a calendar, marking each day with a red X, creating a visual chain you won’t want to break. The satisfaction of maintaining that chain becomes its own reward.
Be prepared for resistance. Your brain will generate reasons to avoid writing—suddenly remembering urgent tasks, convincing you that you need more research. Recognize these as the mind’s tendency toward the path of least resistance, not legitimate obstacles.
The habitual writing practice isn’t romantic—it’s showing up every day, regardless of mood or circumstance.
It’s one of the core habits that separates writers from people who dream of writing.