How I Finished Writing My Novel in Lockdown

During the first lockdown in March 2020, a tweet went viral stating that Shakespeare wrote King Lear during a plague, the implication being quarantine is an ideal time for creativity. A little bubonic plague didn’t hold Shakespeare back – so what’s your excuse?

A year on, in another lockdown, I think a lot of us would argue that on some days, doing more than wear yesterday’s joggers and find something to watch on Netflix is a big ask. It’s all well and good to point out the success stories of the 16th century, but Shakespeare didn’t have breaking news alerts or Twitter, did he?

Last year I had a novel to finish. I say finish loosely because yes, I’m still in the editing process, and yes, it’s still that same old book I was writing two years ago, the one I’ve told you about, and yes this is draft 400-and-something. But in 2020, during the first lockdown I finished my book, a big and important draft of it.

I’m fortunate to have a desk, a private, warm and comfortable space to write and no children to either worry about, teach or disturb me. I can’t begin to imagine how difficult it is for parents juggling work and home-schooling, let alone having any space to be creative, but maybe some of my techniques might still work. I’m someone who is very easily distracted and my living situation – renting a room in my parents’ house – had its struggles when the rest of the household was furloughed, at home all the time, bored, anxious and seemingly unaware that interrupting my writing time could shatter my attention for the rest of the day.

So here’s the problem - I’m a highly distractable internet addict and I’m writing a novel as the world goes through its biggest crisis in my lifetime. I’ve done all the usual stuff to ‘switch off’ from the ever changing breaking news (yes, my phone is on silent and out of reach, but no, I do not have the willpower to quit social media and turn off my WiFi) and I’ve just about managed to calm my mental state, but I still have a book to write.

Here's how I did it. Some are basic and seem completely obvious, but this is what works for me.

Listen To White Noise

I wish I was one of those lucky people who can work to music, who has a specially curated Spotify playlist of mood music, or even just the radio. Over the years I’ve learnt that I write best in silence. And silence, when the house is full, is impossible. Desperate for something to block out the TV in the room next door, my parents’ conversations, their music, phone calls and news alerts, I discovered the wonder of white noise generators. It might not be for everyone (though I hear babies are also a fan) but for me that constant empty noise blocked out all the background noise and gave me the space to think. My personal preference? Spotify’s 3 hour track – also a great measure of how long you’ve been writing for.

Write To-Do Lists

When I was a university student I used to mock my flatmate and best friend for her copious list making, lists that seemed to me never-ending and a waste of time. Nichola, I apologise profusely, because now I live by them. I use lists to block out my day into available hours and the weird pleasure of ticking it off gives me enough satisfaction to achieve what I set out to. I make these lists the night before and they can be as vague as “13:20-14:20 – writing” but that’s enough to give me a realistic picture of how to fit in everything I need to and it makes me accountable, tapping into guilt, and use that hour for writing rather than scrolling through Twitter.

Schedule Breaks

When I plan out my writing schedule, I always block out time for breaks. I never write for more than an hour at a time, even if it’s going well. My attention span is so bad that longer than this and I begin to resent the process and write garbage. After an hour, I take a ten-minute break. I’d love to say I use these ten minutes to meditate or at least take time away from the screen, but I don’t. I do use social media in my breaks and it’s a habit I’m trying to break. Keeping strict with my break time – ten minutes and only ten – is hard, but the more I use my to-do lists, the better my self-discipline.

Find The Time That Works For You

I used to be very hung up on the idea that I couldn’t write in the mornings. Because I’m disabled I need carers to help me get ready in the morning and this takes up a large chunk of my morning and it means my day is dependent on a) if they arrive on time b) how efficient they are at helping me get ready. It might mean, on the odd occasion, that I can’t start writing until 11am. I used to write-off mornings, convinced that any time left when the carer had gone wasn’t long enough to get settled into writing, but realistically, afternoons don’t feel like my most productive hours. It’s a comment you often hear from writers that there’s no such thing as a perfect time or perfect conditions to write in, and it’s something I’ve found to be true. Even a snatched twenty minutes before lunch is better than finding reasons why it’s not the right time to start.

Try To Make Boundaries

Writing is such a solitary endeavour that it can be hard to look like you’re hard at work, especially when much of the work involves staring into space or having muttered conversations with yourself to get your dialogue right. With all my family home and furloughed during lockdown, I had to explain multiple times that I would be busy until a certain time and that if my door was shut, not to interrupt. And yet, that message didn’t quite get through. Even a “quick” interruption of handing me post, for example, could set my progress back and lead me onto other distractions. In the end I tried to keep the message simple: knock on the door only if there is a fire, otherwise it can wait.

Make Yourself Accountable

Apart from deadlines and my own guilt urging me to finish writing my book, one of the best ways I found to encourage me to keep going was by making myself accountable. This requires honesty and a friend who will keep you to your promises. I took advantage of my carers for this one – women I saw every day and who would ask, out of interest and to keep me motivated “Did you manage your three hours yesterday?” Knowing I had to answer to someone, that I wanted to stick to my targets, helped me keep to my agreed writing time. Did I always achieve it? No. But I was always honest about it. By asking someone else to keep you on track, they also help you be kinder to yourself. To them, a failed day of writing is only a blip. They recognise what you can’t always see, that other things crop up, that you weren’t in the right headspace and, that there’s always tomorrow.