Carina Rampelt | June 8, 2021

Gwyneth Paltrow starts her day swishing coconut oil around her mouth. Jay Shetty meditates for two hours every morning in a routine that includes “breathwork, visualization, and mantra meditation.” Arianna Huffington swears by nightly candlelit baths with plenty of soaking salts. 

Over the top daily routines for CEOs, celebrities, and other high achievers have become the stuff of parody. But if I’m honest, I haven’t been immune to their pull—the idea that with just the right routine, I too can be optimally productive, creative, and happy. 

And I’m not alone. I think the ongoing popularity of these routines reveals something important. “I’ve learned that being creative is a full-time job with its own daily patterns,” writes Twyla Tharpe in The Creative Habit. She argues that while people’s individual habits differ, “the routine is as much a part of the creative process as the lightning bolt of inspiration, maybe more.”

That resonates with me. I love reading about the working habits of successful writers, past and present. While their individual routines vary enormously, I’ve identified some patterns that successful writers seem to share. I’ve taken to calling these patterns “creative principles.” 

I say “principles” and not “practices” or “habits” because I think it’s more valuable to take inspiration from other writers’ routines than to imitate them exactly. While it’s tempting to believe that following a notable person’s routine will allow you to access the same success, the reality is that you’re a different person. You have your own unique preferences, body chemistry, schedule, and commitments to contend with. 

In this post, I’ve compiled a list of the four most important creative principles writers need to build a sustainable and nourishing writing practice. Let’s dive in.

Principle 1: Tune your instrument

There’s a saying among vocalists, “you are your own instrument.” People who sing for a living have to take exceptional care of their bodies—getting enough rest, staying well hydrated, and eating healthy. Some singers have been known to cut sugar and dairy out of their diets entirely because it affects the quality of sound they can produce. 

For writers, the connection between physical well-being and quality of work may not be as obvious, but it is critical. Many writers throughout history have noted the importance of the mind-body connection to their creative output. The Romantic poets—like William Wordsworth and Samuel Taylor Coleridge—were all prolific walkers. One of Jack Kerouac’s writing rituals involved standing on his head in his bathroom and touching his feet to the ground nine times. Novelist Haruki Murakami runs 10km or swims 1500m every day (and sometimes does both) as an integral part of his writing process.

I’m not saying that you need to start training for a marathon like Murakami, but taking care of yourself physically is important to maintaining the writing spark. Make sure you’re getting enough sleep, eating a balanced diet, and moving your body in ways that feel good. If you were entrusted with a priceless Stradivarius violin, you would make darn well sure to take proper care of it. You are your own instrument—so do your best to keep yourself in tune.

Principle 2: Claim a room of your own

Virginia Woolf famously argued that every writer needs “a room of one’s own” in order to produce their best work. And while some of the best writers have produced masterpieces in difficult workspaces—Jane Austen scribbled some of the most famous novels in the English language at a tiny table in between domestic chores—I would argue that they succeeded in spite of their surroundings, not because of them.

Thanks to the pandemic, can you probably relate. Many of us have been working in less than ideal circumstances—balancing laptops on the couch or sharing space at crowded kitchen tables. But even if you can’t magically give yourself more physical space to work in, you can give yourself more mental space. 

Many people, myself included, find it helpful to keep their workspace as clear as possible from distraction. “Use your desk to help you focus on a single active project,” writer Gretchen Rubin recommends in her book Outer Order, Inner Calm. 

I work at my kitchen table and when I’m writing I make sure my workspace is clear of everything except what I need—no placemats, no random dishes left over from breakfast, just my laptop, notebook, and pen. (Noise-cancelling headphones are also a godsend for helping to create a protective mental bubble). Having this micro “room” of my own gives me the space to focus, even as I’m sharing my workspace with my partner and my attention-hungry cat, Beatrice. Consider—what space, however small, could you stake out as a room of your own? 

Principle 3: Become an inspiration magpie

Creativity is the act of combining disparate ideas in new ways. To write effectively, you need to have the raw materials: nuggets of wisdom, wry anecdotes, and half-baked ideas—a veritable magpie’s nest of shiny objects that you hoard, waiting for the right opportunity to use them. 

For writers, that means reading. A lot. As William Faulkner once exhorted: “Read everything – trash, classics, good and bad, and see how they do it. Just like a carpenter who works as an apprentice and studies the master. Read! You’ll absorb it. Then write. If it is good, you’ll find out.”

But don’t limit your inspiration exclusively to the written word. You can find inspiration in all sorts of unexpected places. I’ve always loved the way Sandra Cisnernos explains (in the third person) how she gathered inspiration as a young author. 

“The young woman fills her ‘office’ with things she drags home from the flea market at Maxwell Street. Antique typewriters, alphabet blocks, asparagus ferns, bookshelves, ceramic figurines from Occupied Japan, wicker baskets, birdcages, hand-painted photos. Things she likes to look at. 

It’s important to have this space to look and think. When she lived at home, the things she looked at scolded her and made her feel sad and depressed. They said, ‘Wash me.’ They said, ‘Lazy.’ They said, ‘You ought.’ But the things in her office are magical and invite her to play. They fill her with light.” 

When you stumble across something that stirs you—whether a phrase, an image, or a treasure you found at a flea market—make a note of it for later. You’ll never know when it will come in handy. 

Principle 4: Leave space for daydreaming

Writers have long emphasized the importance of solitary, idle time to their creative output. Jean-Jacques Rousseau wrote an entire book on the long, meandering walks he took in and around Paris to be alone with his thoughts. “Conversation enriches the understanding, but solitude is the school of genius,” wrote English parliamentarian and writer Edward Gibbon. It’s telling that one of William Wordsworth’s most famous poems, I Wandered Lonely As A Cloud, shows him sinking into a meditative reverie: 

For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;

While women writers were long excluded from access to private space to be alone with their thoughts, these themes are no less prominent in their writing. “It is in our idleness, in our dreams, that the submerged truth sometimes comes to the top,” wrote Virginia Woolf. More recently, poet Mary Oliver reminds us, “Whoever you are, no matter how lonely / the world offers itself to your imagination.” 

It can be challenging to carve out time for solitary reverie in our always-on, notification-filled world, but as writers like Cal Newport and Jenny Odell have highlighted, how we engage with our technology is a conscious choice. Try to find pockets of time throughout the day where you can let your imagination run free—go for a walk, sit outside with a cup of coffee, or doodle on the back of a napkin. Don’t give yourself an agenda, just allow yourself to be carried off into reverie. This seemingly “idle” time is where the creative magic happens. 

Putting the principles into practice

If there’s anything to be learned from the writers who have come before us, it’s that there’s no one way to live a creative life. However, there is a lot of interesting crossover between the working habits of creative writers throughout history—the exercise routines of Coleridge and Kerouac, the meditative daydreams of Wordsworth and Woolf. 

Though their particular habits and routines may vary, many of the same principles apply: honoring the mind-body connection, claiming space, collecting inspiration, and welcoming “idle” time all feature heavily in their creative process. These, I would argue, are the essential nutrients of a happy and productive writing practice. And though coconut swishing and hours-long meditation practices may work for some, one size certainly does not fit all when it comes to creating a routine that works for you. 

Not feeling inspired? Here’s a menu of options to get you back in the writing flow. 

Take care

• Go for a brisk walk or run

• Try this yoga practice for writers

• Do the 7-minute workout

• Eat a brain-boosting snack 

• Take a 20-30 minute power nap

Make space

• Tidy the surface you’re working on

• Clear any digital clutter—unnecessary tabs, files on your desktop, etc. 

• Put on some white or ambient noise to help you focus

• Start a timed work block with an app like Forest

• Block distracting websites or apps 

Collect inspiration

• Read a book that’s just for fun

• Experience the non-written arts: visit a museum, see a play, watch a film, etc. 

• Dedicate a notebook to logging ideas, quotes, and interesting snippets

• Have a rummage at your local thrift shop or flea market

• Save visual inspiration to a folder or Pinterest board

Daydream 

• Meditate for 5-10 minutes—set a timer or use a free app, like Insight Timer 

• Freewrite your unfiltered thoughts 

• Go for a solitary walk and leave your phone at home

• Do a household chore while alone with your thoughts (no podcasts!) 

• Drink your coffee outside or while gazing out a window