My writing process?

The people (ok one person) have asked for it

Friday, April 25, 2025. 6:21 PM.

It happened. It finally happened.

A moment I didn’t even realize I’ve been waiting for (impatiently) for well over a thousand days.

My friend asked me a question at dinner that nearly made me choke on a greasy pepperoni…

So what’s your writing process look like?

Asking a writer about their writing process is like asking a vegan why they don’t eat animals, a cult leader why you should attend their next “gathering”, or foolishly welcoming a door-to-door Mormon inside your home to better understand why they are the chosen ones.

Brace yourself. You have just unleashed the floodgates of TMI.

But my friend, we’ll call them Jamie, lucked out.

The question totally caught me off guard. So unfortunately, what came out of my mouth was some throwaway nonsense, Well, you just have to write for yourself and figure out what works for you.

Boooooo!

That’s like asking a billionaire entrepreneur to spill their trade secrets only to be hit with, “Well, you just have to make stuff people want to buy.”

Sure, there’s some truth to it, but how freaking boring.

Gimme the nitty gritty details. Something practical. Something tactical. Something I can really sink my teeth into.

My friend is brand spankin’ new to this whole writing game so I knew his question deserved a better response.

What follows is a transcript of how I hope our conversation went down in an alternate universe (between mouthfuls of pepperonis)…

---

Jamie: So what’s your writing process look like?

Me: Wow I wasn’t expecting you to ask. Where do I even begin?

Jamie: How ‘bout from the start?

Me: (sly smile) That’s why we’re friends. Ok deal. I only write in the mornings.

Jamie: Why?

Me: That’s when my creative juices are at their peak. I’ve tried afternoons and evenings but quickly realized I’m creatively inept once the clock strikes noon.

Jamie: Go on…

Me: You really want to hear more?

Jamie: I do.

Me: Ok, you may regret that but let’s do this. I like to write before I’ve had any inputs from the outside world. No reading. No podcasts. No news. And god forbid, no TikTok. Save the brain rot for later.

Jamie: Hmmm alright, but how do you know what to write about?

Me: Ah, that’s easy. I’ve got a notes tab in my phone called “Writing seeds”. It’s where I brain dump boatloads of ideas on all sorts of random topics I think could be worth writing about.

Jamie: Where do these, what did you call them, writing seeds, come from?

Me: Anywhere and everywhere. As soon as you start writing you’ll find you’re always on the hunt for new ideas. This makes you way more observant. You may come across something in a book, podcast, or conversation like the one we’re having. Actually, excuse me, I need to jot this down while it’s top of mind. If it causes you to pause, ponder, or chuckle, add it to the list.

Jamie: Do you write about every writing seed?

Me: Heck no. There’s hundreds I still haven’t gotten to and probably never will. That’s ok. They’re like mental stimulants. I glance at them before I start writing to see what gets me going.

Jamie: Speaking of stimulants, do you use any?

Me: Does a bear shit in the woods? Sorry. Yes, I most certainly do. I’m a coffee guy. But any strongly caffeinated beverage will do.

Jamie: Does it help?

Me: Honestly, I have no clue. And I have no desire to find out otherwise. But here’s what I do know. I’ve conditioned myself to associate coffee with writing. I’m like a Pavlovian dog hearing the bell. I start salivating as soon as I take that first intoxicating sip and my brain knows it’s time to write. In fact, now I feel naughty whenever I drink coffee and don’t write.

Jamie: How often do you write?

Me: Every single day. No questions asked. Missing a day is a sin in my book.

Jamie: And how long do you write?

Me: Ideally for 90 minutes. But I’ve worked up to that incrementally. When I first started, 30 minutes was all I could handle.

Jamie: Do you actually write for that entire time?

Me: Almost never! But I don’t have to. I’m just not allowed to do anything else. I stole this tip from Jerry Seinfeld. Set a timer for 90 minutes (or however long you’ve got) and give yourself two options: do nothing or write. Staring at the wall sounds easier, but no. Boredom is torture. So if your only other alternative is to write, you write.

Jamie: What if it takes you a while to get into a flow and then the timer goes off?

Me: Doesn’t matter. The session is finito. I drop my pen, stand up from my desk, walk over to my wall calendar, and mark a big fat X for that day. And call it a day.

Jamie: Wait, you don’t type?

Me: Nah. Too many potential distractions a mere click away. I’m old school. Gimme a blue bic ben and a Karst notebook and I’m all set.

Jamie: Haha alright. Do you use AI to help?

Me: ….next question. Not unless AI can remove the smudges from my notebook. If you’re a lefty, you get it.

Jamie: Figured. But I feel like you’re dancing around the main thing. How do you actually write?

Me: You’re right. I’m hesitant to answer because it really depends. But one of the main reasons I keep showing up every morning is because I often have no clue what I want to write about or will write until I’m in the act. That keeps it exciting. I’m kinda like a freestyle jazz player.

Jamie: So no outline?

Me: My “outline” is picking a writing seed from my list, writing it at the top of a blank page, and seeing where it takes me. Spoiler: usually not very far. I may puke out a few lines of sewage and realize it isn’t going anywhere. But never force it. That’s simply my sign to move on. Eventually I’ll stumble upon a topic that leads to a steady flow of words. They don’t have to be good. But if they flow I go.

Jamie: How do you start an intro?

Me: My go-to is a provocative question that I’m curious about. Then I repeatedly poke at it from different angles to see if I can’t come up with something surprising. As long as I’m still curious, I keep going.

Jamie: What about editing?

Me: Editing is the name of the game. Anyone can write a first draft. But a dozen? That’s where it really starts to take shape. Refine. Refine. Refine. Every draft should be shorter (and hopefully better) than the previous one. If not, have you even edited?

Jamie: When do you finally hit publish?

Me: Before it feels ready. Because it never feels ready. Parkinson’s Law states that work expands to fill the time available for it’s completion. Writing is no different. That’s the beauty of a deadline. Mine is Tuesday mornings.

Jamie: Do you write with your audience in mind?

Me: Yes and no. But mainly no. I am my audience. I consider myself a proxy for the reader. If I’m not intrigued or having a good time writing, no chance the reader will later.

Jamie: Ok cool. This is helpful. Anything else?

Me: Hmmmm… yeah here’s something. Writing is a 24/7 gig. The irony is that your best writing occurs away from the page. You’ll notice that new ideas, new lines, new examples will pop up out of thin air. You will be tempted to think that you’ll remember them next time you write. But you won’t. Capture them immediately before they fall through your fingertips like sand. I like texting myself little tidbits to refer back to.

Jamie: I appreciate you.

Me: Oh boy.

Jamie: What?

Me: We’ve been chatting for two hours and I just had an unexpected realization.

Jamie: Do tell.

Me: I had to share my entire writing process with you but you’ve gotta ignore it all.

Jamie: Why?

Me: I guess what I actually told you was all you really needed…

Write for yourself and figure out what works for you.

Jamie: Ha! Thanks man.

Your thoughts? Comments? Complaints? Please leave a reply below.