By Margaret Lucke

“A writer who waits for ideal conditions under which to work will die without putting a word on paper.” — E. B. White

The other day a nonwriter friend asked me if I write every day. With regret and some embarrassment I had to admit that despite my desires and good intentions, days (okay, weeks) often slip by without my having written a word. I mean, sure, I jot down grocery lists and dash off responses to emails, but that’s not my friend meant. She was referring to making progress on my current novel.

It’s not hard to come up with reasons not to write. Important and meaningful reasons. Errands need to be run, laundry must be done, good friends deserve a visit, the genius level on the New York Times Spelling Bee game insists on being achieved. But something feels off when I reach bedtime and realize that my protagonist has done nothing all day except sit there and twiddle her thumbs

I do believe in the value of writing routines. I’m convinced that having a good routine ensures a writer will be more productive, more focused, more intelligent, more witty and clever, more successful …

If only I could come up with one.

It’s not that I haven’t tried. In fact I’ve made quite a study of what works for others in the hope that I’d find a routine suited to my habits and temperament. What I’ve discovered is that routines are as varied as writers themselves, though they tend to fall into several categories.

>> The up-before-dawn writer

“Do they know I get up at five o’clock every morning to write 1,000 words before breakfast?” — Margaret Meade

These are the people who set the alarm for 4 or 5 a.m., get up and write for two or three hours, and then go off to report to their day jobs or whatever else places demands on their time. Anthony Trollope, who worked as a civil servant, wrote 46 novels this way. I have several friends who swear by this method and write fine books in the tender hours before sunrise.

>> The grab-bits-and-pieces-of-time writer

“The way you define yourself as a writer is that you write every time you have a free minute. If you didn’t behave that way you would never do anything.” — John Irving

Another friend, before she retired, spent all of her lunch hours at work in the parking lot, where she would sit in her car and write. Mystery writer and attorney Michael Gilbert wrote 23 novels on the train as he commuted from his home in Kent to his law firm’s London office. William Carlos Williams, a physician, scribbled stories and poems on prescription pads in between patients. I admire the way writers who do this can shift gears so quickly from other activities and home in on their writing.

>> The quota-system writer

“All through my career I’ve written 1,000 words a day — even if I’ve got a hangover.” — J.G. Ballard

These are the writers who set a daily goal and refuse to leave their desk until it is accomplished. The goal might be to write for a set number of hours or to achieve a specific page count or word count. This was the principal behind the sadly demised Nanowrimo, or National Novel Writing Month, which challenged writers each year in November to a produce a novel of at least 50,000 words. Producing 1,667 words a day would get you there. Note that the folks behind Nanowrimo didn’t insist that the novel be any good.

>> The ritual writer

“I had a ritual once of lighting a candle and writing by its light and blowing it out when I was done for the night.” — Jack Kerouac

Writers are not necessarily superstitious, but we know that sometimes we must do certain things to draw the muse to our side and appease her when she’s present. This can lead to some peculiar writing routines. Victor Hugo would shed his clothes and instruct his valet to hide them; being nude, he couldn’t leave the house so he might as well write. Charles Dickens carefully arranged certain items on his desk to foster his creativity, among them a vase of fresh flowers and a bronze statuette of dueling toads. Natalie Goldberg often wrote with a cigarette in her mouth; she usually didn’t smoke it but used it as “a prop to help me dream into another world.”

I’ve dabbled in variations from each of these categories, but I haven’t found the perfect routine for me. How about you? What works? I’m open to your suggestions.