The Minimum Viable Writing Week
(How to Stay in Relationship With the Work)
There’s no such thing as an ordinary writing week—especially when you’re building a series, one minimum at a time.
I’m tooting my own horn a little this week, because I’ve got my writing mojo back. My ‘Lives on a Train’ short story series has a new book joining in early February, The Caledonian Sleeper, after what feels like an impossibly long break. So, now’s the perfect time to get up to speed with the characters and stories in the first two books, which weave their way through the carridges in unexpected places.
They are available here via Kindle Unlimited and Amazon.
Now, to the lab experiments that got me there.
The reason I’ve (finally) finished book three—and have already drafted book four—is that I’ve changed how I approach my work, and I’ve made an effort to prioritize my writing in a manageable way.
The fastest way to burn out is planning as if nothing will go wrong.
As if you’ll never get tired, never have a heavy week, never grieve, never need to be a person with a life.
So instead of building my writing practice around an “ideal week” (spoiler: I’ve never had one), I’m building it around a minimum viable writing week: the smallest set of actions that keeps the thread unbroken.
Not heroic. Not impressive. Not performative.
Just steady.
Why “catching up” is a trap
When we miss a week (or a month(s)), the instinct is to punish ourselves back into motion.
We create a plan that requires intensity.
We try to “make up for lost time.”
And the work starts to feel like debt, one that keeps growing.
A minimum viable week is the opposite.
It says, simply: stay in contact.
Most of my writing weeks don’t look heroic—they look like coffee, a notebook, and one small commitment to keep going.
How to choose your minimum
Your minimum should be:
small enough that you can do it on a hard week
specific enough that you know when it’s done
kind enough that you don’t resent it
Examples:
One 45-minute writing session
Two 20-minute sessions
Three 10-minute “touch the work” sessions
One revision hour + one reading hour
The goal isn’t to do the most.
The goal is to keep the relationship with the work alive.
Winter-friendly examples
If winter is low-energy for you, your minimum might be:
10 minutes of handwriting most days
one longer session on the weekend
one “tend the well” date to refill the creative tank
If you’re in a demanding life season, your minimum might be:
one session every Friday morning
one page of notes
one paragraph
Small counts.
A soft invitation (if you want a steadier kind of consistency)
If you’re tired of the all-or-nothing cycle—and you want consistency that doesn’t require you to become a different person—the Anti-Hustle Writers Lab is a good place to land.
Here, we practise minimums. We practise returning. We practise being writers in and with real lives.
If you want to join us, you’re welcome. Subscribe if you’d like a place to exhale.
Your turn
What’s your minimum viable writing look like for this coming week?
If you share it in the comments, you might give someone else permission to choose a minimum that’s actually livable.




Sound advice, as always
"The fastest way to burn out is planning as if nothing will go wrong." Isn't that the truth! Wise words, Tracy.