The Unsexy Truth About Writing Consistency (And Why Your Routine Doesn't Have to Look Like Anyone Else's)

I almost didn't record my podcast episode about consistency because I wasn't being consistent enough.

The irony wasn't lost on me. I had emails to finish, packing to do, and about seventeen things that felt more urgent than sitting down with my microphone. For a moment, I thought nobody would even notice if I skipped it.

But that's exactly why I needed to record it. Because real consistency isn't about showing up when everything's perfect—it's about showing up in the middle of chaos, choosing one thing over the other things pulling at you, even when you're tired and it would be easier to skip it.

If you've been beating yourself up for not being "consistent enough" with your writing, your author platform, or your creative work, this is for you. Because I'm willing to bet the problem isn't your work ethic. It's that you're measuring yourself against someone else's impossible standard.

Why Your Definition of Consistency Is Probably Making Things Harder

When you think about consistency, what comes to mind? Maybe it's Mark Wahlberg's 2am workout routine, or an author who writes 2,000 words every single day without fail, or someone's perfectly curated Instagram grid that never misses a post.

The problem is that we look at other people's bar for consistency and think we have to match it. We compare our lives—with our unique resources, responsibilities, and seasons—to someone else's completely different reality. And when we inevitably fall short, we decide we're failing.

But here's what I've learned after spending eight years working on the same novel: Consistency isn't about matching someone else's output. It's not about showing up at 100% every single day. It's just about choosing that this thing matters more than that thing. Again and again. Even at 70%.

You're probably already consistent with things in your life. You have shows you never miss. Routines you do on weekends without thinking about it. Maybe you always go for a walk on Saturday mornings or always grocery shop on Sundays. That's consistency too—it's just not the thing you think you should be consistent with.

The shift happens when you stop making consistency into this massive, complicated thing that requires perfect conditions, and start seeing it for what it really is: boring. Unsexy. Just choosing to do the thing even when you don't particularly feel like it.

The 8-Year Novel and What Finally Changed

Let me tell you about my novel. It started after the Tubbs Fire in 2017—a wildfire near where I grew up in Napa and Sonoma counties. Wildfires hold a special place in my heart because they're a specific type of trauma, and having lived far away during those fires, I knew I wanted to write this story.

But for years, I couldn't figure it out. I wrote two or three completely different outline versions. Nothing felt right. I took Margaret Atwood's MasterClass and learned she wrote one novel's beginning four different times from different characters' perspectives before she nailed it. That gave me permission to keep trying.

But permission doesn't equal progress. Last year, I wrote 30,000 words in the wrong direction. I was writing what I thought I should be writing, not what excited me.

At the beginning of this year, I decided to start over. And this time, I committed to something simple: 500 words, five days a week.

Not every day. Not 2,000 words. Not even my absolute best work. Just 500 words, five days.

I use Scrivener—writing software that tracks your statistics and lets you set writing goals. When I looked back at my history, I could physically see the months where I'd written nothing. Huge blank chunks. And I thought, "Oh. That's why I'm not making progress."

Since committing to this boring, unsexy goal of 500 words five days a week, I've made more progress than in the previous seven years combined. I'm on track to finish a very bad first draft by the end of this year. And some days it really is bad—maybe 70% of what I'm capable of—but 70% is infinitely better than 0%.

The Myth of Needing "Full Days" to Create

Here's something I hear constantly from writers: "I just need a full day to write. If I could just get away from everything, I'd finally make progress."

I used to believe that too. I'd set up elaborate writing retreats for myself. Clear my entire schedule. Tell everyone I was going off the grid to write.

And then I'd write absolutely nothing.

I'd arrive exhausted and overwhelmed by the thought that I had to write, that I had to produce something worthy of all this setup. The pressure paralyzed me.

Here's the truth: Those big blocks of time only become useful after you've built the boring daily habit. When you're already writing 500 words on random Tuesday mornings before checking email, then a full day becomes this gift where you can really flow. But if you're waiting for perfect conditions to start? You'll wait forever.

The breakthrough happens when you build creativity into your regular life. When you write during normal days, in normal clothes, in normal chaos. That's when you start recognizing lightning when it strikes—during walks, during conversations, during ordinary moments—because you've trained yourself to capture it.

How to Actually Build Consistency (In Your Season, With Your Life)

So how do you actually do this? Here's what's worked for me:

Choose one thing. Not five things. One. Maybe it's a daily word count. Maybe it's posting on social media three times a week. Maybe it's one newsletter per week. Pick the thing that will move the needle most.

Lower your bar. Your goal should be sustainable and boring. If you're thinking "this feels too easy," you're probably on the right track. You can always increase it later, but starting small means you'll actually start.

Track what you're not doing. This was huge for me. When I saw those blank months in my Scrivener stats, I couldn't lie to myself anymore. You might not use writing software, but you can use a simple spreadsheet or even mark Xs on a calendar.

Give yourself permission to show up at 70%. Some days will be better than others. Some days you'll hit your goal and it won't be your best work. That's fine. You're building the habit of showing up, not the habit of perfection.

Build in rest. Notice I said 500 words five days a week, not seven. You need space to be human, to have off days, to travel, to deal with life. Build that into your plan from the beginning.

What Consistency Actually Gives You

Here's what surprised me most: Consistency gives you freedom.

It gives you freedom to know you did the thing, put it away, and move on without it eating up mental energy. It gives you freedom from the constant anxiety of "I should be working on that thing." It gives you freedom to say no to other opportunities because you're already committed to your one thing.

And ironically, it gives you freedom to be spontaneous. When you have that boring baseline routine, those random bursts of inspiration or extra energy become bonuses instead of requirements.

This upcoming season—the holidays, the new year, whatever you're walking into—will require a lot of your energy. There will be a thousand things pulling at you. And there will be that voice telling you you're not doing enough, not being consistent enough, failing to measure up.

Choosing Consistency and Choosing You

Consistency doesn't have to look like anyone else's version of it. It doesn't require waking up at 2am or writing 2,000 perfect words every day or having your entire life together before you start.

It just requires choosing. Choosing that this thing matters. Choosing to show up even in chaos. Choosing 70% today over 0%. Again and again and again.

That's it. That's the unsexy truth.

And honestly? That's the version of consistency that actually works.

That's what The Done Club is designed for—six weeks of group coaching and co-working sessions where you choose your one book thing and actually get it done. I created it specifically for this: to give you space, accountability, and permission to make progress on the thing that's been sitting in your brain, taking up space. If this is what you want consistency to feel like, join The Done Club here.