For years, I had a Sunday-night ritual that felt practical but was quietly keeping me stuck. I would scan the week ahead looking for the kind of writing time I thought counted: long, uninterrupted stretches where I could really sink into the manuscript. Most weeks, those stretches were nowhere to be found, and I would close my planner already defeated. The myth that big blocks of writing time are the only way to move forward is alluring because most of us would prefer to work this way even if it doesn't fit into our schedules.
In this episode, I talk about how that belief takes hold, why it’s normal to desire these blocks, and why it reflects a model of academic life that does not match the reality most scholars are living, especially those juggling teaching, service, caregiving, health concerns, and the constant interruptions of institutional life.
I also make the case for a different way of thinking about writing time. Progress does not depend only on having more hours. It depends on matching the kind of time you have to the kind of task in front of you. Not every part of book writing requires the same level of focus or energy. Freewriting, outlining, revising, note-making, and drafting all ask different things of you, and some of them fit surprisingly well into smaller windows.
When I stopped treating “working on the book” as one single activity, I could make meaningful progress in the time I actually had instead of dismissing it as insufficient. That shift changed more than productivity. It changed my relationship to the project itself. The book stopped feeling distant and accusing and started to feel like something I was genuinely in conversation with again.
