You don’t need to feel “inspired” to write. You don’t need a grand idea either.
Pull out a notebook or open a new text file, set a timer for 10 minutes, and begin. Continue writing without interruption until the timer winds down.
Don’t expect a masterpiece from this process. Don’t even expect accurate spelling or coherent sentences.
Welcome every word, even if the words stumble out cliched, badly phrased, sappy, or socially unacceptable. Pretend that your backspace key will burn you if you touch it. Let the typos and the Freudian slips flow.
If you write something and immediately wish you’d said it differently, just write it again with the desired changes. Repeat yourself as often as you need to.
If your hands run out of words to type, just write whatever sensations your senses receive. Tune into all the sounds your ears can detect. Write about the light and how it falls on things you can see; write about where the shadows fall. Write about the temperature, the weather.
Embrace the trivial and mundane details. They’re icebreakers. They often lead to something deeper and more interesting… but only if you’re patient with them.
If you find yourself resisting the act of writing, just write about that. I’ve kicked off many writing sessions with the words “I don’t want to write.” Sometimes I write that line three, four, five times in a row. If I just keep my hand moving, I’ll soon get tired of whining and write something else.
Keep writing fast enough, and your inner critic won’t be able to keep up. He’ll shrink into the distance behind you, wheezing and hacking beside the road, choking in a cloud of your dust.
To begin writing anything is better than waiting idly for ideas. Write uninterrupted for ten minutes and you’ve won this little game.
Set that timer for ten minutes. Go. Write.