It struck me recently that, for something which occupies so much of my mental space, the bulk of my fiction writing has in practical terms always taken place in whatever corners of my life are not commanded by other activities. (Figuratively, but often literally as well: I have sat in the corners of cafes, pubs, and church halls, and sought out quiet lunchtime spots in schools and workplaces to scribble down a few lines before the next ‘real’ activity came along.)By the end of this year my ‘official’ written word count will stand at something like 160,000 (the sum of two complete novels). When you add to that the numerous notebooks and sheets of paper I have filled with ideas for stories, plus the countless hours which have gone into worldbuilding and plot-planning ever since I was about nine years old, that makes one heck of a lot of filled corners.Initially I found this slightly worrying. A proper writer, I thought, should set time aside, and be able to keep to a schedule. Then I remembered a book I came across about six months ago. It was titled Write a Novel in 10 Minutes a Day, and on looking through it I had recognised something of myself in the author’s suggested method. When writing her own first novel she would set a timer and write for ten minutes, then when the timer went off she would leave the computer and do something around the house – put the laundry on, check on the children and so forth – and then return to her computer for another ten minutes. In this way she eventually produced a work 95,000 words long and, as she was a home-schooling mother of five at the time, one can be sure that her household duties were not light!I don’t use a timer (though I might be tempted to try sometime!) but the anecdote got me thinking about the benefits I have found of writing in small chunks. The biggest one is that it keeps me hungry to write. There is nothing like being interrupted when the words are flowing really well, halfway through scribbling down a scene I’m excited about, to make me want to get back to writing more as soon as possible! Writing in situations where I’m prone to be interrupted has also gifted me the ability to tune in and out of the writing ‘zone’ very quickly, and that has spilled over into being able to juggle multiple threads of thought at once; I think of it like leaving multiple tabs open in an internet browser.* Another huge benefit is that it keeps me fresh to the ideas. If I’m feeling stuck and don’t know how the next bit of a scene should go, the best thing I can do is leave the keyboard, and when I come back to it later all will be clearer.** I suspect this is because it’s easy to put oneself under pressure when writing, especially on days when words are hard to come by, and temporarily downing tools means I can allow myself freedom to ponder over the issue. (Forgetting about the problem entirely for a while can also be good for resetting my perspective, I’ve found.)The author of Write a Novel in 10 Minutes a Day related a couple of others. Firstly, nearly all writers start off having to fit writing around other life commitments, and not everyone may be able to set aside hours at a time; everyone, however, can find ten minutes a couple of times a day. Secondly, for those who haven’t written a book before (her primary target market), it breaks down the task of producing such a large volume of words. A lot of writers, myself included, fall prey to their own perfectionism by holding themselves to such high standards that they have trouble producing anything, but having a tight time limit on each writing session can help to break down that barrier. This was demonstrated to great effect during a writing course I recently attended, where every lesson was filled with bite-size tasks aimed at generating and developing ideas, none of which was more than fifteen minutes long. With a bit of practice, I think everyone on the course found that taking the mental brakes off in this context produced some very good results!I used to have grandiose dreams of writing at an old-fashioned mahogany desk with a leather top, or curled in an upholstered sofa in my own library with a fire crackling in the grate, and I know I’m not alone among writers in that regard! I may not have let go of those ideas (you’ve got to have aspirations, haven’t you?) but in the meantime what I take from all of the above is that there is less need for ‘ideal’ circumstances in which to be creative than one might think. A heartening thought for those of us who have to juggle writing time with the commitments of ‘real life’!Addendum: after I had completed this post, a writing group of which I am occasionally part drew my attention to the Guardian’s ‘My Writing Day’ series, in which a large number of published authors have shared some insights into their creative processes. It seems that even the professionals aren’t always able to achieve ideal writing circumstances!