Chapter 1: The Dilemma of Scheduling

In the quest for writing, the path often feels ambiguous and directionless, akin to wandering without a map or GPS.

"To truly focus, you must carve out a distraction-free time daily," insists Master Writer #1. "Be resolute. Select a specific timeframe and location, and make sure those around you are aware of it."

"That's not the approach," counters Master Writer #2, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "You should write whenever you have the chance. Waiting at the laundromat? Bring your laptop or at least a notepad to capture your thoughts."

Master Writer #3 interrupts, brimming with creative energy. "These folks are missing the point. The key is to write when inspiration strikes you. That's the only true way to create."

As you exchange glances with each of the Master Writers, you feel the weight of their expectations. The clock ticks away, and you realize that time is of the essence—not just for bankers or athletes, but for writers too.

Pushing aside a trivial joke about a writer, a banker, and a skateboarder, you take a deep breath. In the depths of your mind, where your best ideas lie dormant, there is a flicker of clarity waiting to be unleashed.

Upon opening your eyes, a grin spreads across your face. "Masters, I—"

Suddenly, all three Master Writers lie motionless. Are those tranquilizer darts lodged in them? The consequences of their dedication to writing have left them incapacitated.

"Stay alert," you remind yourself, checking on their well-being. Thankfully, they appear unharmed, although Master Writer #2 might need new glasses after that fall.

"Show yourself, coward!" you challenge the unseen presence around you. The surroundings are blank and devoid of direction. You feel foolish for getting ambushed in such a sterile environment—though the truth is, you weren't the one caught off guard; the Master Writers were.

"Ah, good," a voice emerges from the void. "You’ve finally realized you’re not alone."

"Yeah," you respond. "Neither are you."

"Really? This is how you write dialogue?"

You survey the endless whiteness. "No, it's just that I don't articulate as I write."

"Fair enough. Who does?"

"Stephen King?"

"True, he’s quite close."

You rise, your knees creaking. Writers typically don’t exercise much; they spend most of their time hunched over their writing tools. "Who are you? Show yourself so we can converse directly!"

The voice chuckles. "You want me to come out? That's amusing."

Growing impatient, you look for an escape. Yet, no matter how far you walk, the tranquilized Master Writers remain close at hand, frozen in their writing debate.

"I'm getting fed up with this," you declare, unsure if you’re talking to yourself or the voice.

"I understand that feeling."

"You know nothing!" you retort.

"Wow. I truly hope your dialogue isn’t like that."

With an exasperated sigh, you settle down, mirroring the Master Writers’ stillness. Almost—Master Writer #1’s hand flickers. It must be their designated writing time, which even slumber can’t interrupt.

"Don't be like that," the voice remarks.

"I thought you understood my feelings," you mutter. "So just leave me be."

"I do know how you feel, which is why I can say this is the worst time to be alone."

Just then, a portal opens in the white void, and a hand extends toward you.

"Come on," the voice encourages. "Let’s get you out of here."

"But the Masters." You can't abandon them; they possess invaluable writing wisdom! Even if they hold conflicting views on writing schedules and even footwear. Is Master Writer #3 even wearing shoes?

Before you can ponder this, the hand pulls you from the emptiness—

And into the real world.

You glance back, panic rising. The Master Writers are doomed! They won’t—

Wait.

What is "there," anyway? All you see is your laptop, a blank Microsoft Word document staring back at you, cursor blinking ominously.

Recognizing that you were rescued (or maybe not—still undecided) by this stranger, you turn to face them. They exhibit all the traits of a Master Writer, yet you find yourself questioning the essence of what distinguishes a Master Writer from a lowercase master writer.

"Please," the Mystery Writer gestures to the chair, "take a seat. It's yours, after all."

Indeed, that squeaky swivel chair is yours, along with the laptop, the pencil beside it, and the entire space!

"Before you call for help," the Mystery Writer raises their hands, "just know I’m a figment of your imagination. So are the Master Writers I, um, put to sleep."

"So, it was you." You cross your arms, giving them a skeptical look. "Not cool. They were imparting wisdom about writing time."

"Oh really?" The Mystery Writer smirks, leaning back in the chair that seems to have materialized out of nowhere. "What’s the best time to write?"

"Well, Master Writer #2 suggests—"

"Ah, that's your choice."

You swivel back to your laptop, the chair creaking in protest, seeking reassurance from an authority figure who might not exist after all. "No, Master Writer #1—"

"An intriguing stance," the Mystery Writer nods, still smiling.

"Yet Master Writer #3—"

"The most unconventional of the trio, true, but still valid, depending on perspective."

With a deep sigh, you close the laptop, resting your chin on it. "I just… it feels impossible to find the time to write."

"Well, what are you doing at this very moment?"

"Chatting with you."

The Mystery Writer laughs—the same light-hearted chuckle that echoed in the sterile confines of your blank page. "Talking to yourself, I’d say."

Rolling your eyes, you prepare a witty retort, but when you meet the Mystery Writer's gaze, your words falter. They occupy a chair that shouldn’t exist, yet if they’re merely a figment, how can they be real?

"Who are you really?" you inquire.

"Great question." The Mystery Writer gestures toward your laptop. "Why not open it and discover?"

Closing your eyes, you realize the flicker of inspiration that had been there earlier has vanished. But… that’s alright, you think. Both blank white and black spaces can be filled with anything.

Your role isn’t to find that "anything." It’s to create it.

With your eyes wide open and laptop ready, you begin. Or perhaps you continue.

Is there really a difference?

Hey there! Thanks for tuning in.

I know this piece diverges from my typical style, but what does my usual style even entail? I could point out a few defining features in one piece, only to find something entirely different in another. Yet, they remain uniquely mine because I created them.

Until next time—whenever that may be.

Chapter 2: Embracing the Unconventional

This video explores how to effectively carve out writing time in a busy life, demonstrating practical strategies and real-life examples.

In this video, discover helpful tips and tricks to uncover moments to write, no matter how hectic life gets.