The Unexpected Joy of Small Spurts of Writing

Years ago when asked to write about how I would like my “perfect day” to be like, I would describe a perfect writing life. This day unfolded with long, uninterrupted stretches at the desk, a hot drink nearby, and words flowing endlessly onto the page. I had a season where a day like this could be planned. But, that season didn’t last long enough for me. Now, I find myself scribbling notes on scraps of paper, jotting thoughts into a little journal, or tapping a sentence into my phone while waiting in line. Or, such as today, jotting down half-formed thoughts before the demands of the day pull me away. The season of writing for me now is fragmented and disjointed… not like my picturesque dreams. Can these fragments even count in the big picture of my creative life?

Lately, I’ve been learning that yes, they absolutely do.

This shift in perspective was solidified by reading Ray Bradbury’s Zen in the Art of Writing. Bradbury was a master of creativity, and one of his habits fascinated me: he made lists. Lists of nouns, lists of phrases, lists of images that captured his imagination. “The Lake.” “The Carnival.” “The Dwarf.” These weren’t finished stories, not even outlines. They were just fragments. And yet, many of those lists became the seeds of his most beloved works. Let me say here, I’ve never read any of his works. But, I do like to read about the inspiration of prolific authors. His use of lists fascinated me…and gave me hope.

There was something profoundly freeing about his practice. He didn’t pressure every writing session to become a masterpiece. He allowed space for curiosity, for play, for the joy of words themselves.

That’s when I realized: the small moments of writing aren’t just filler between the “real” writing. They are writing. They’re sparks that keep the creative fire alive!

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Why the Small Moments Count

1. They build creative momentum.
   Even jotting down a single sentence reminds your brain that you are, indeed, a writer. It keeps the channel open. Then, when bigger pockets of time arrive, you’re not starting from scratch—you’re continuing a thread you’ve already begun. (This article comes on a day in which I found myself with a 2-hour block of time in which I could write without interruptions! Yay!)
   
   

2. They honor inspiration when it comes.
   Ideas rarely arrive on schedule. They show up while you’re washing dishes or out on a walk. If you capture them in a quick list, you’ve honored that inspiration instead of letting it slip away. (I currently have a book title that came to me on a whim. I’m keeping a running list of words, thoughts, and ideas in a journal. As they come to me, I’m determined to capture them. At the right writing time, the book will emerge.)
   
   

3. They cultivate joy in the process.
   There’s something fun about curating words you’d like to use one day. Maybe you come across “serendipity” or “lilt” or “gossamer” and tuck them away for later. It’s like gathering treasures. You may not use them immediately, but you’ve nurtured delight in language itself.
   
   

4. They remind us that writing isn’t always output—it’s input too.
   Reading, noticing, reflecting, list-making—these are all part of the writing life. They feed your creativity in ways you might not see immediately, but the benefits always surface later.
   
   

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Reframing the Writing Life

I will admit it here, as I’ve admitted the truth even to my son lately. For a long time, I equated productivity with my worth. This was anything in life. If I wasn’t being productive, with a specific said piece of something as a result, then I was not living a productive life. As a writer, this same stifling opinion about productivity weaved its way into my thoughts. If I didn’t hit a word count goal, the day felt wasted. But Bradbury’s reminder to make lists helped me see writing differently.

What if the measure of a writing day isn’t always word count, but whether I showed up for the words at all?

Maybe my only accomplishment on a busy Tuesday is scribbling down, “The sound of rain dripping from the roof” That doesn’t look like much—but what if, someday, that note blossoms into the opening line of a short story? What if it sparks a memory that turns into a heartfelt essay? What if it blossoms into a devotional piece that encourages a worn out caregiver?

The truth is, we rarely know which small seeds will grow into something bigger. Our job is simply to plant them.

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Encouragement for the Writer in the Margins

If your writing life feels fragmented right now, take heart. You’re not doing it wrong. Every sticky note, every scrap of dialogue captured in your phone, every list of obsolete or quirky words or character names—they all count. They’re proof that you are engaging with your creativity, even in life’s busiest seasons.

And sometimes, those small pieces carry unexpected joy. You may flip back through a notebook in a few months (or years as I recently did) and stumble on a phrase you forgot you’d written. It might make you smile, laugh, or inspire an entire new project.

Writing isn’t just about output—it’s about noticing, collecting, and playing with words. And in that sense, even the smallest moments are part of the beautiful, ongoing art of being a writer.

So the next time you scribble a note in the margin of your day, don’t dismiss it.

Celebrate it.

Because in the end, all the words add up.

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💡 Maybe your next masterpiece starts with nothing more than a list.

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