Most writing advice is written for a person who does not exist. This person has two uninterrupted hours, a quiet house, a desk and computer that nobody else needs, and enough energy not to just stare at a blank page and space out. I have been doing this for years; I run a business teaching writing, and I am not reliably that person either. In fact, I am so far from it and currently going through one of the worst blocks in my career. The only thing that keeps me going are my weekly writing sessions with friends.
The writers I work with are typically doing their writing around full-time jobs too, or studies, or kids, or caring responsibilities, chronic illnesses, and the general administrative stress of being an adult. When they tell me they can't find two hours, they're telling the truth. What they usually have is twenty minutes, somewhere between one obligation and the next.
Twenty minutes can be enough to finish a novel in a year, which I'll do the maths on in a moment. But it's only enough if you stop spending the first twelve of those minutes deciding what to write.
Where the twenty minutes go
If you've ever sat down for a short session and come away with eighty words and a bad mood, you already know that the session probably gets eaten up by those first 10 minutes that you spend finding the file, rereading the last page, fixing some lines on said last page, deciding what happens next and whether that’s any good, and then checking one small worldbuilding fact because you can’t possibly write this next scene without it.
By the time all of that has happened, the writing itself never got its turn.
So the entire practice, for short sessions, comes down to removing everything that stands between sitting down and putting words on the page.
ALSO: Breaking Down Writer's Block
The one habit that changes everything: end by writing what happens next
This is the single most useful thing I've ever done for my own drafting, and the thing I push hardest with coaching clients who are short on time. It’s actually a method that one of my coaching clients always used and taught me, and it’s stuck with me since.
At the end of every session, before you close the document, write one line at the bottom of the page that tells future you exactly what to do next.
Something like: next, she goes to the hospital and lies to the nurse about who she is.
I usually do this in bullet points for the whole rest of the chapter, and simply delete each bullet point as I write it out.
Deciding what happens next is a different cognitive task from writing sentences, and it is much easier to do while you're still hyped up from the scene you just finished than stressed the following evening with twenty minutes on the clock.
Reduce the startup cost everywhere else
A few other things that help:
Leave the document open. Opening a file is a bigger psychological barrier than writing a paragraph. This makes very little sense but I’ve found it to be very true. Leave it open on a the desktop where you’ll be writing, ahead of time, so that it’s the first thing you see as soon as you sit down. Bonus points if you also exit out of all other distracting apps.
Don't reread. Rereading turns into editing, and editing during a short session means you spend your writing time polishing a page that might not survive the next draft. If you need a running start, read the last paragraph only.
Keep a placeholder convention. When you hit a fact you don't know, type something like [CHECK LATER] and keep going. Look it all up in one batch later. Research is a wonderful way to feel productive while writing nothing.
Write out of order. If tonight's assigned scene is one you're dreading or haven’t fully worked out yet and there's a confrontation three chapters ahead that you're itching to write, write the confrontation.
The maths, because the maths is encouraging
Twenty focused minutes, for most people, produces somewhere between 250 and 400 words once you stop wasting those precious minutes.
At 300 words a day, five days a week, that's 1,500 words a week. Around 6,000 a month. Somewhere between 70,000 and 78,000 words in a year, which is a complete novel in most genres, with weeks off for being a human being.
Compare that to four hours every second Sunday, which produces maybe 2,000 words a fortnight when it happens, and which stops happening entirely the first time something throws you off. I would rather see somebody write twenty minutes a day for a year than wait for conditions that arrive four times annually.
ALSO: I Finished My First Draft, Now What?
What to do on the bad days
There will be days where twenty minutes produces forty words and all of them are wrong. This is normal and it is not a sign that the practice is failing.
On those days, the goal changes from producing words to maintaining the momentum. Reread your one-line instruction and write a paragraph of notes about the scene instead of the scene itself. You could do what I do and write the dialogue only, with no description, then fill the rest in later when the prose starts prosing again.
And if you miss a week, you've missed a week. Start again next week or tomorrow, whatever day that is. Nothing about a novel requires you to begin on a Monday or at the start of a month, as much we love to convince ourselves of this.
But believe me, guilt-tripping yourself is the fastest way to never finish anything.
On routines, since I have opinions about them
I'm not going to tell you that you need a routine, because I don't believe writing routines work for everybody and I've watched the pressure to have one do real damage to a lot of writers, myself included. Plenty of people write in unpredictable bursts and finish perfectly good books!
What I'd say instead is that short sessions benefit enormously from happening at roughly the same point in your day, whenever that is. Mornings have nothing magical about them for some of us, but for others they’re the only quiet time where their brain is fresh. Regardless of the time of day, a habit attached to an existing anchor (right after the school run, before the first work meeting, or the twenty minutes while the pasta sauce cooks) simply requires far less decision-making than one that you might change day to day.
The less you have to decide, the more of your twenty minutes belongs to the book.
If you'd like a structure for small, consistent sessions, my writer archetype quiz sorts you by how you already work and drops you into a free seven-day challenge that teaches you tools and tricks for your archetype, which is a low-stakes way to find out what a sustainable session looks like for you specifically.
FAQ
Can you write a novel in 20 minutes a day?
Yes. Twenty focused minutes typically produces 250 to 400 words, which adds up to roughly 70,000 words across a year of weekdays. The limiting factor is usually startup time rather than the length of the session.
How do I stop wasting my writing time getting started?
End each session by writing a single line telling yourself what happens next, leave the document open, and avoid rereading previous pages. These three habits remove most of the decision-making from the beginning of a session.
Is it bad to owrite out of order?
Not at all. Writing whichever scene you have energy for keeps momentum up, and many writers assemble a first draft out of sequence. The connective scenes are often easier to write once the big moments exist.
How many words a day should a writer aim for?
There's no correct number. A sustainable target you hit most days is worth more than an ambitious one you abandon, and 300 words a day finishes a novel inside a year.
What should I do if I miss several days of writing?
Start again at the next opportunity without trying to make up the lost words. The cost of a break is the story going cold, so the fastest recovery is rereading your last note and writing something small the same day.
