Something about autumn brings out the desire for routine in me.
The Birkenstocks get pushed to the back of the closet and the Allbirds come to the mudroom; the jackets are tucked in boxes in the basement and the parkas are hung in the front closet (this is, after all, Wisconsin). I know others are big into New Yearâs Day, but something about the changing of the leaves and the brisk air nipping at our elbows makes me want to sit down and turn out a big ole to do list. I find myself looking at my writing routine, which I always get asked about, and finding the honest answer: I do not have one.
Here is my routine: wake up. Assess how many times children woke me up in the middle of the night. Chug the appropriate cups of coffee in response. Evaluate: if itâs Tuesday, the kids have to get up early for chess club, if itâs Thursday, I have my Polish tutor over Zoom at 6 AM. There is almost always a bin of laundry glaring at me. Do I have time to make pumpkin muffins before everyone gets up?
Some days I have childcare; some days I donât. Some days Iâm able to write a scene while the 18-month-old chomps on blueberries; some days I canât find the words or energy or three spare minutes. Some days Iâm able to actually use that precious childcare on writing; some days I have to use it on the dentist or scrubbing my oven or doing marketing work.
Podcasts tell me to create my âideal dayâ and I find myself wondering who these people are, who spend their mornings walking around their garden with tea and their afternoons living in their Zone of Genius. They probably donât have a pumpkin they have to decorate for their 4Kâers classroom door.
I want to be a person with habits, routines, patterns. Iâm just not sure how. How do you plan out a day when you may or may not be up in the middle of the night with a feverish 6-year-old? How do you have any kind of work routine when you canât delegate anything, so every single thingâbe it the requested blog interview, the book launch party details, the responding to substack commentsâmust be done by you? How do you finish a book on time when you also have to write for your freelance client and your newsletter and your friend whose cover letter you promised youâd look over?
This week, I took a day-long solo retreat at a basilica near my house. It was a gorgeous 60-degree day, and there were leaves and statutes and cemeteries for old friars. It was exactly what my weary heart needed, and I took a little time to pray and mull over that precocious idea of a writing routine.
Because the truth is, I do think theyâre possible. And I want one. It would be nice not to feel like a frazzled mess every time I see the looming deadline of my work in progress* looming.
What I landed on was this: I need to recommit to morning writing. The further we get into autumn the darker it stays in the mornings, and the harder it is to extract myself from my weighted blanket. But also, the further I get from my main characterâs spirit, the harder it is to dive back in. And while the words I write may be garbage, at least theyâre there. Thatâs a small slice of time that I can aaaaalmost guarantee nobodyâs going to be asking me to watch them twirl or color with them. And I can always just shove that basket of laundry in the mudroom and shut the door at the dark, cold hour of 5 AM.
Four things that make a deep work writing environment for me:
The right sound. Either the background chatter of a coffee shop, or these weirdly specific YouTube playlists Iâve become addicted to.
A h-o-t black coffee.
Being warm enough! (Why are coffee shops always freezing? I mean, I know the answerâthey want six more of my dollars for yet another warm, cozy beverage. I cheat the system and bring my chunkiest hoodie.)
No children asking me for Z bars.
All of these can be accomplished in my very own living room at the crack of dawn.
But even more than any specific schedule, my day-long existential crisis reminded me this: routines work for us, we donât work for routines.
There are a lot of days I wish I had 40 hours a week of childcare, but I donât. There are a lot of days I wish I could snap my fingers and have a clean house, but I canât. There are a lot of days I wish I was a big-name author who didnât have to do a lot of self promotion, but Iâm not.
So why stress out over any of these things? Why make goals like Writing Three Hours a Day that simply arenât realistic during this season of life?
My routine is not yours, or yours, or yours. And it may not look as straight-edged or simple as I long for it to be. But it does look like other things. It looks like spontaneous poems written in my notes app, and characters that spring from Taylor Swift lyrics. It looks like kids who see my dreams and write their own stories, telling their teachers they want to make books like mama. It looks like creativity bursting at the seams, an ordinary extraordinary.
It looks like mine.
(For those who care, hereâs my Brand New Sparkly Writing Routine: write garbage before the pitter patter of footie pajamas on the stairs. Edit during my daycare hours. Write more garbage on Zoom with my writing group. Aaaaand rinse/repeat. This precious time is reserved for fiction and essays for my professional newsletter. All writing that doesnât require deep workâthis newsletter, marketing content for my final freelance client, any book Q & Asâcan take place in the margins of nap/rest time and when Daniel Tiger is babysitting. Weekends and nights, when I so choose, can be hobby writingâpoetry, letters to my kids, notes to friends.)
So, there you have it: my long, convoluted âwriting routineâ existential crisis. As fresh as a bouquet of Meg Ryanâs freshly sharpened pencils.
Patron Saint of Google Calendar, pray for me. đ
*I canât wait to tell yâall about my work in progress. I hope to very soon. Take it up with the very, very slow publishing contract lawyers. ;)
Celebrate WHAT HAPPENED TO RACHEL RILEY!
I would love to invite any locals to our launch party for my latest middle grade book. After having *two* different launch parties canceled thanks to the ârona, I am just over the moon that I can finally celebrate a book launch in a big way.
I promise not to awkwardly read the book or wear a beret or demand you buy it. But I would love to just celebrate with friends, family and readers and my favorite local bookstore. There will be cookies, giveaways, and big hugs. Kids are more than welcome!
WHERE: Books and Company, Oconomowoc, WI
WHEN: Tuesday, January 10
TIME: 6:00 PM
No registration, fee, or purchase required. This event is open to the public.
What Happens Next: Astronomy-obsessed Abby McCourt should be thrilled about the solar eclipse her small town of Moose Junction is about to witness, but sheâs not. After her older sister Blair was sent away for an eating disorder, Abby has been in a funk. Desperate to dull the pain her sisterâs absence has left, she teams up with a visiting astronomer to help track down his long-lost telescope. Though this is supposed to take Abbyâs mind off the distance between her and Blair, what she finds may bring her closer to her sister than she ever thought possible.
Can you believe this little book has been out in the world for two and a half years?! Mind boggling. While we were organizing our basement, I found an entire box of these suckers đ¤Śđźââď¸ and I would love to send three of you a signed copy. Just respond to this email letting me know the best book youâve read lately to enter. Winners will be chosen at random on Monday. USA only.
And lastly, a book Iâve loved lately forâŚ
Kids: Strega Nonaâs Harvest has been our favorite cozy autumn read-along. Iâm obviously a diehard Tommie dePaola fan, but Strega Nona in particular has my heart. My kids love the Italian phrases and this tale of an overgrown vegetable garden has adorable folk art and a sweet story.
Middle graders: YâallâŚI did not read a middle grade book this month. Not one! But Iâm on the library wait list for Ghosts Come Rising by Adam Perry, with whom I share an agent. Iâm sure it will be a winner! (Also, realizing thatâs technically a lie. Iâve been reading The Wonderful Wizard of Oz out loud to my 6- and 4-year-old and we finally finished it. Thatâs a middle grade, right? It was the perfect read-aloud for those ages.)
Adults: Iâm not usually one for thrillers, but did any of you used to play Nancy Drew computer games? If so, hi, we should be friends. Moreover, The Last to Vanish by Megan Miranda feels *just* like a Nancy Drew computer game. Itâs creepy, atmospheric, and beautifully written.
Thanks for reading along!
-Claire-
The Nancy Drew computer games! So fun đ
Claire, this is the best thing I have read on the Internet is a longgggg time đâ¤ď¸ Joyful + real.