The Neurodivergent Writerâs Guide to Fun and Productivity
(Even when life beats you down)
Look, Iâm a mom, I have ADHD, Iâm a spoonie. To say that I donât have heaps of energy to spare and I struggle with consistency is an understatement. For years, I tried to write consistently, but I couldnât manage to keep up with habits I built and deadlines I set.
So fuck neurodivergent guides on building habits, fuck âeat the frog firstâ, fuck âitâs all in the grindâ, and fuck âyou just need time managementââhere is how I manage to write often and a lot.
Focus on having fun, not on the outcome
This was the groundwork I had to lay before I could even start my streak. At an online writing conference, someone said: âIf you push yourself and meet your goals, and you publish your book, but you havenât enjoyed the process⌠Whatâs the point?â and hoo boy, that question hit me like a truck.
I was so caught up in the narrative of âYouâve got to show up for whatâs importantâ and âPush through if you really want to get it doneâ. For a few years, I used to read all these productivity books about grinding your way to success, and along the way I started using the same language as they did. And I notice a lot of you do so, too.
But your brain doesnât like to grind. No-oneâs brain does, and especially no neurodivergent brain. If having to write gives you stress or if you put pressure on yourself for not writing (enough), your brainâs going to say: âHuh. Writing gives us stress, weâre going to try to avoid it in the future.â
So before I could even try to write regularly, I needed to teach my brain once again that writing is fun. I switched from countable goals like words or time to non-countable goals like âfunâ and âflowâ.
Rewire my brain: writing is fun and Iâm good at it
I used everything I knew about neuroscience, psychology, and social sciences. These are some of the things I did before and during a writing session. Usually not all at once, and after a while I didnât need these strategies anymore, although I sometimes go back to them when necessary.
I journalled all the negative thoughts I had around writing and try to reason them away, using arguments I knew in my heart were true. (The last part is the crux.) Imagine being supportive to a writer friend with crippling insecurities, only the friend is you.
Not setting any goals didnât work for meâI still nurtured unwanted expectations. So I did set goals, but made them non-countable, like âhave funâ, âget in the flowâ, or âwriteâ. Did I write? Yes. Success! Your brain doesnât actually care about how high the goal is, it cares about meeting whatever goal you set.
I didnât even track how many words I wrote. Not relevant.
I set an alarm for a short time (like 10 minutes) and forbade myself to exceed that time. The idea was that if I write until I run out of mojo, my brain learns that writing drains the mojo. If I write for 10 minutes and have fun, my brain learns that writing is fun and wants to do it again.
Reinforce the fact that writing makes you happy by rewarding your brain immediately afterwards. You know what works best for you: a walk, a golden sticker, chocolate, cuddle your dog, whatever makes you happy.
I conditioned myself to associate writing with specific stimuli: that album, that smell, that tea, that place. Any stimulus can work, so pick one you like. I consciously chose several stimuli so I could switch them up, and the conditioning stays active as long as I donât muddle it with other associations.
Use a ritual to signal to your brain that Writing Time is about to begin to get into the zone easier and faster. I guess this is a kind of conditioning as well? Meditation, music, lighting a candle⌠Pick your stimulus and stick with it.
Specifically for rewiring my brain, I started a new WIP that had no emotional connotations attached to it, nor any pressure to get finished or, heaven forbid, meet quality norms. I donât think these techniques above would have worked as well if I had applied them on writing my novel.
It wasnât until I could confidently say I enjoyed writing again, that I could start building up a consistent habit. No more pushing myself.
I lowered my definition for success
When I say that nowadays I write every day, thatâs literally it. I donât set out to write 1,000 or 500 or 10 words every day (tried it, failed to keep up with it every time)âthe only marker for success when it comes to my streak is to write at least one word, even on the days when my brain goes ânaaahhhâ. On those days, it suffices to send myself a text with a few keywords or a snippet. Itâs not âsuccess on a technicality (derogatory)â, because most of those snippets and ideas get used in actual stories later. And if they donât, they donât. Itâs still writing. No writing is ever wasted.
A side note on high expectations, imposter syndrome, and perfectionism
Obviously, âSetting a ridiculously low goalâ isnât something I invented. I actually got it from those productivity books, only I never got it to work. I used to tell myself: âItâs okay if I donât write for an hour, because my goal is to write for 20 minutes and if I happen to keep going for, say, an hour, thatâs a bonus.â Right? So I set the goal for 20 minutes, wrote for 35 minutes, and instead of feeling like I exceeded my goal, I felt disappointed because apparently I was still hoping for the bonus scenario to happen. I didnât know how to set a goal so low and believe it.
I think the trick to making it work this time lies more in the groundwork of training my brain to enjoy writing again than in the fact that my daily goal is ridiculously low. I believe Iâm a writer, because I prove it to myself every day. Every success I hit reinforces the idea that Iâm a writer. Itâs an extra ward against imposter syndrome.
Knowing that I can still come up with a few lines of dialogue on the Really Bad Daysâdays when I struggle to brush my teeth, the day when I had a panic attack in the supermarket, or the day my kid got hit by a carâteaches me that I can write on the mere Bad-ish Days.
The more I do it, the more I do it
The irony is that setting a ridiculously low goal almost immediately led to writing more and more often. The most difficult step is to start a new habit. After just a few weeks, I noticed that I needed less time and energy to get into the zone. I no longer needed all the strategies I listed above.
Another perk I noticed, was an increased writing speed. After just a few months of writing every day, my average speed went from 600 words per hour to 1,500 wph, regularly exceeding 2,000 wph without any loss of quality.
Talking about quality: I could see myself becoming a better writer with every passing month. Writing better dialogue, interiority, chemistry, humour, descriptions, whatever: they all improved noticeably, and I wasnât a bad writer to begin with.
The increased speed means I get more done with the same amount of energy spent. I used to write around 2,000-5,000 words per month, some months none at all. Nowadays I effortlessly write 30,000 words per month. I didnât set out to write more, itâs just a nice perk.
Look, Iâm not saying you should write every day if it doesnât work for you. My point is: the more often you write, the easier it will be.
No pressure
Yes, Iâm still working on my novel, but Iâm not racing through it. I produce two or three chapters per month, and the rest of my time goes to short stories my brain keeps projecting on the inside of my eyelids when Iâm trying to sleep. I might as well write them down, right?
These short stories started out as self-indulgence, and even now that I take them more seriously, they are still just for me. I donât intend to ever publish them, no-one will ever read them, they can suck if they suck. The unintended consequence was that my short stories are some of my best writing, because thereâs no pressure, itâs pure fun.
Does it make sense to spend, say, 90% of my output on stories no-one else will ever read? Wouldnât it be better to spend all that creative energy and time on my novel? Well, yes. If you find the magic trick, let me know, because I havenât found it yet. The short stories donât cannibalize on the novel, because they require different mindsets. If I stopped writing the short stories, I wouldnât produce more chapters. (I tried. Maybe in the future? Fingers crossed.)
Donât wait for inspiration to hit
Thereâs a quote by Picasso: âInspiration hits, but it has to find you working.â I strongly agree. Writing is not some mystical, muse-y gift, itâs a skill and inspiration does exist, but usually itâs brought on by doing the work. So just get started and inspiration will come to you.
Accountability and community
Having social factors in your toolbox is invaluable. I have an offline writing friend I take long walks with, I host a monthly writing club on Discord, and I have another group on Discord that holds me accountable every day. They all motivate me in different ways and itâs such a nice thing to share my successes with people who truly understand how hard it can be.
The productivity books taught me that if you want to make a big change in your life or attitude, surrounding yourself with people who already embody your ideal or your goal huuuugely helps. The fact that I have these productive people around me who also prioritize writing, makes it easier for me to stick to my own priorities.
Your toolbox
The idea is to have several techniques at your disposal to help you stay consistent. Donât put all your eggs in one basket by focussing on just one technique. Keep all of them close, and if one stops working or doesnât inspire you today, pivot and pick another one.
After a while, most âtoolsâ run in the background once they are established. Things like surrounding myself with my writing friends, keeping up with my daily streak, and listening to the album I conditioned myself with donât require any energy, and they still remain hugely beneficial.
Do you have any other techniques? Iâd love to hear about them!
I hope this was useful. Happy writing!
