When I moved to Charlotte sight unseen for my husband’s career in 2022, I had already published We Don’t Get to Ring the Bell in December 2021, but I was navigating an identity crisis and needed to develop new writing systems for my next projects. Most writing schedule advice assumes you have a predictable routine, a dedicated office, and the luxury of protecting your creative time. They don’t tell you how to write when you’re rebuilding your entire life from scratch. Was a flexible writing schedule an option, or should I stick with my writing blocks routine?
I’m not here to sell you on making your writing time 5 AM or blocking out four-hour writing sessions. That’s fantasy advice for people whose biggest challenge is choosing between the coffee shop or the library. This writing habit is for mid-career professionals whose lives include client deadlines, family obligations, and the occasional existential crisis about who they are and what they should be doing.
The Problem with “Perfect” Writing Schedules
Every writing guru has the same advice: set goals and write at a consistent time and place to create a writing routine. Block your calendar. Protect your boundaries. Write every day at the same time.
Here’s what they don’t mention: Your writing productivity doesn’t mean writing at the same time every day. It’s just not possible for most of us.
When Eddie and I packed our car in May 2022 with whatever the movers wouldn’t take, my perfectly crafted Arizona writing routine vanished. No familiar coffee shop. No established home office. No predictable schedule because everything—from finding a grocery store to figuring out which direction was north—required mental energy.
I tried to force my old routine into our corporate housing. It lasted about a week. That’s when I learned something that would save my client work and my sanity: flexibility isn’t the enemy of discipline. Rigidity is.
The Flexible Writing Schedule That Works
After months of fighting against my new reality, I discovered that sustainable writing schedules aren’t about perfection but adaptation. Here’s what I developed instead of the ideal writing routine.
Writing Tip #1: The Buffer System
Instead of scheduling specific writing times, I scheduled writing windows. I would write Monday through Wednesday between 9 AM and 2 PM. Not “Monday at 10 AM sharp,” but “Monday when life allows it within this timeframe.”
This buffer system meant I could still write even when the cable guy arrived three hours late or when I needed to figure out Charlotte’s grocery shopping and traffic trends. The window stayed protected; the exact timing stayed flexible.
Writing Tip #2: The Minimum Viable Progress Rule
On days when my energy was scattered or anxiety was running high, my writing goal became small writing sessions of 30 minutes or writing a paragraph. That’s it. Often, reading would turn into editing, which would turn into adding a sentence and thirty minutes of actual writing.
The rule wasn’t about achieving a specific word count. It was about maintaining a connection to the project even on difficult days. Writing consistently gave, and still gives, me a sense of accomplishment and, over time, reflects progress.
Writing Tip #3: The Energy-Based Approach
Instead of forcing myself to write during optimal morning hours when I was processing the logistics of starting over, I started paying attention to when my mind actually felt creative. Some days, creative activities were sparked after a long walk through my new neighborhood. Other days, it was a late afternoon after a nap and a coffee or chai.
I stopped apologizing for not being a morning writer and started honoring my actual creative rhythms.
The Progress Documentation Strategy
Moving to a new city meant losing all my familiar progress markers. I couldn’t check off “went to favorite coffee shop” or “completed morning routine.” Instead, I added projects to my calendar, made a daily schedule, and set achievable goals.
I would reflect on my progress at the end of the day or week. Seeing my progress accumulate became crucial when everything else felt uncertain. On days when I questioned whether I belonged in Charlotte, I could look at weeks of consistent small wins.
Making a Writing Routine Work for Your Specific Chaos
The beauty of this approach is that it adapts to whatever complexity you’re facing. The principles remain the same whether you’re changing cities, managing aging parents, or navigating career transitions.
For the overwhelmed executive: Your writing window might be “sometime between client calls” rather than a specific writing time that is a blocked calendar appointment. The buffer system lets you write when meetings end early instead of forcing unrealistic morning sessions.
For the caregiving professional: Your minimum writing productivity might be voice-recording ideas during your commute rather than requiring a quiet desk. Progress is progress, regardless of format. Your writing sessions might utilize AI tools like RightBlogger to transcribe recordings and edit content. (I love RightBlogger so much, I’ve shared my affiliate link with you.)
For the identity-questioning mid-career professional: Your energy-based approach might mean writing during whatever time of day you feel most like yourself, rather than fighting against your natural rhythms. Setting writing blocks, at least for me, simply didn’t work to make me productive. I needed writing inspiration, which I found by taking walks and limiting distractions.
The key is designing your writing schedule around your actual life, not the life you think you should have.
What This Approach Delivers
Instead of a set goal for the day or week, I focused on short writing sessions to avoid burnout and accommodate my energy. I tend to write on a flexible schedule; mornings and late afternoons are my prime time.
If I were to give you writing advice, I would recommend a flexible writing routine that builds a writing habit, rather than a certain number of words per day.
Using this flexible writing routine, I’ve developed a writing practice that could survive future disruptions, whether client emergencies, health challenges, or the next time life reorganizes itself.
During the pandemic, I wrote my book, We Don’t Get to Ring the Bell. I was focused on connecting with other writers, developing time management techniques, and networking with business owners who, when the lockdown lifted, may need a content author to write new articles for their websites.
The creative process and writing goals are accomplished not because I had perfect conditions, but because I had a system that worked with imperfect conditions.
Your Writing Schedule Reality Check
Here’s what I wish someone had told me before I wasted months trying to force rigid routines into chaotic circumstances:
Your writing process should serve your book, not your ego. Don’t worry about time management. This is about creating a writing process that works for you. It doesn’t matter if you write at 5 AM or 11 PM, in a beautiful office or on your kitchen table between dinner prep. What matters is consistent progress over time.
Flexibility isn’t failure. It is sustainability. The writing schedule that lasts is the one that adapts when life gets complicated, not the one that requires perfect conditions.
Small, consistent actions compound faster than sporadic perfect sessions. Twenty minutes of imperfect writing beats zero minutes of waiting for the ideal moment.
Your book deserves to exist, and your writing schedule should make that more likely, not less. Stop apologizing for not having the perfect setup and start working with the life you actually have.
Sometimes the best thing you can do is permit yourself to write imperfectly and consistently rather than perfectly and never.
Looking for more practical advice on writing during life transitions? Check out my other posts or reach out if you need help developing systems that work with your specific circumstances.