I can’t work like this!
Creating when nothing feels quite settled
(I started drafting something more light and fun. But this is the post that I need to read right now, so this is the post I need to write.)
It’s the end of an era. In July 2025, we moved in with my parents while our house gets remodeled. Now it’s February 2026, and we’ve moving back.
Anyone who has moved house knows that it’s tiring and frustrating. And our house isn’t quite done - just livable. I’m going to feel unsettled for a while yet.
This is a preposterously privileged set of problems to have, of course. And yet…
This is going to be hard
We’re living in a construction zone. Moving, unpacking, sorting, organizing, cleaning up dust, playing tetris with the work areas that need to stay clear, entertaining the boys while our movements are somewhat limited, starting Robin in a new school, adapting to a new world where Seamus is home every day.
In all that hubbub, my office space is not the highest priority. But I have personal deadlines to meet. I don’t want to fall behind.
So the question is: how do I keep writing even through this period of transition?
This is NOT…
This is (hopefully) NOT a way to bully myself into more work. I’m pretty darn good at avoiding work, I think.
Instead, I want to make the most of the time and energy I have. I don’t want to lose it to perfectionism (“I can’t work until my space is perfect”) and procrastination (“just 15 more minutes on social media”).
What do other writers say?
When I had a lot of driving time going back and forth between our temporary residence and our building site, I often listened to the Writer’s Routine podcast.
From that small sample size, there seem to be plenty of writers who need a certain chair, software, and location to write.
Then there is another breed: a group of writers who have kept their routines deliberately agile.
They don’t want to worship the ritual: relying on a candle that might burn out, a pen that might get lost, a location that can’t travel with them. They don’t want to lose writing time, so they practice writing on trains, planes, and automobiles.
I think I need to learn something from them if I want to keep working over the next few weeks.
My ideal conditions
First, I want to paint my perfectionist picture of writing.
It’s early morning. I had a great night’s sleep the night before, and I feel fresh and alert.
I’ve just eaten a meal with protein, fruits, and vegetables. I have a water bottle and/or caffeinated beverage at my side. I also went outside for a short time and had some good lungfulls of fresh air and a look into the natural sunlight.
I’m in my studio. The combination of light is bright and welcoming, but not glaring. The temperature is just right, or maybe slightly on the chilly side.
I have a full keyboard and external monitor attached to my laptop so I’m having a very ergonomic experience.
The desk is clear, I don’t have any other pressing responsibilities or anxieties for the day. I know I’ll have at least 45 minutes all to myself to write. I don’t have a hard stop time though, so I can keep going if I get on a roll.
The kids are asleep, or out with their dad, or occupied somewhere else as someone else’s responsibility. The dogs are taken care of and content, settled into their beds. There’s no chance of interruption (unless the house starts to burn down).
My minimum conditions
Now, what do I need to just get the job done?
Biological needs. If hunger or thirst is affecting my ability to concentrate, I should take care of those things first. Same for any pressing bathroom business. (I’m not putting sleeping on that list because if I had a shit night of sleep, I would still hope to fit in a few minutes of writing.)
Writing tools. A full keyboard is great. My little bluetooth keyboard is also workable. Pen and paper will do quite nicely too, as long as I know where I left off or what I plan to write next.
Minimal interruptions. I can’t write when I’m actively parenting. I prefer relative quiet, but noise-cancelling headphones can work wonders.
Decent posture. If I slouch too much over my screens, I get grumpy and sad. However, I can curl over a notebook no problem.
Relative privacy. I don’t like people reading over my shoulder. Although this seems like one that I should work on getting over, building confidence and audacity.
5 minutes. The internet suggests that it takes 23 minutes to gain focus on a task. But 5 minutes is all I need to confirm my identity as a writer by being able to say I WROTE TODAY.
Below this threshold…
Below the minimum threshold, it's actually counterproductive to try to write because I'll just get confused, frustrated, and make mistakes.
And that’s good to know what the threshold is, because I don’t want to put myself in situations where I’m just disappointing myself and feeling worse and making it more likely that I won’t write the next day.
Where can I meet those minimum requirements?
Cafes, libraries, parks, patios, tables, bars, couches, lobbies, hotel rooms, standing desks, ferries, arm chairs. Trains, planes…
But not automobiles. I get car sick, so I can actually WRITE much, although I get some lovely ideas staring out at the road. Things just click. Then if I’m the passenger, I can jot down a few words without too much risk to my inner ear & tummy.
I can write here
Even though our home is still under construction, I can write here.
Sure, I’ll miss being out in nature--being able to step outside and into the Bear Valley, surrounded by hills, bald eagles, foxes, frost, fields, and open space for the mind to wander and weave.
My boys are already missing Lone Rock, with Seamus asking repeatedly when we’re going back there.
I didn’t really appreciate how much living in Lone Rock was a getaway. We had to keep things clean, but I didn’t have to look around and see an unending list of other home projects that needed completed.
I’ll have a lot more on my “house” to do list here in Madison…but on the other hand, I can make my new space whatever I want it to be.
It’s a chance to form new routines. I’m driving less across the Wisconsin countryside, so all of a sudden there are more hours in the day.
I can write here.
