writing routine

Writing Through Illness Keeping the Flame Lit

/ Author Simon Phillips / Leave a comment

There’s a particular stillness to the house when one is unwell. The windows dim, the hours stretch thin, and even the simple act of sitting at a desk becomes a task weighed with strange solemnity. Over the past week, I’ve been writing through a heavy spell of illness, not the romantic sort that lends itself to poetic fever-dreams and sudden inspiration, but the ordinary kind. The draining, silent kind. Head fog, aching bones, and the slow drag of breath.

And still, the story asks to be told.

It hasn’t been easy. The rhythm of my chapters, those long, rolling sentences that mirror the breath of the world I’m building, do not come quickly when my mind is wrapped in cotton. Dialogue feels slower to surface, the flow of magic across a battlefield takes more effort to visualise, and Simion’s thoughts… his weariness starts to echo my own. Yet somehow, that makes the writing more honest. There’s no room for pretense when you are sick. What emerges on the page feels stripped back to truth.

There’s comfort in the discipline, too. Even a few hundred words become a kind of anchor. I’ve been working steadily through Chapter 31, part by part, and while I’ve not progressed at my usual pace, I’ve remained in the world. That matters more than anything. Staying inside the rhythm of the novel, no matter how slowly, prevents the silence from becoming distance. And when you are tired, truly tired, that distance grows fast.

This post is not a grand revelation, nor a triumphant declaration of productivity. It is simply a mark on the wall. A quiet signal that the story lives, even on days when the author does not feel particularly alive himself. If you are also working through something, whether a cold, a long week, or a deeper weariness, I hope you remember this: words written under strain are still worthy. They still carry weight. And sometimes, they carry more of you than you realise.

I’ll return to the cliff’s edge soon, where Simion waits beside those ancient stones. There is much still to tell.

Until then, rest, breathe, and if you can, keep the flame lit.

Writing Between Worlds: How I Create Without a Dedicated Space

/ Author Simon Phillips / Leave a comment

There’s a romantic image of writers, sitting at a tidy desk by the window, sunlight pouring in, coffee steaming, and silence wrapping around them like a warm blanket. I admire that image. But my reality looks nothing like it.

I don’t have a designated writing space. Instead, I bounce between my school desk during quiet moments, the dining table when it’s free, and sometimes, my children’s study desk, usually after they’ve abandoned it for something more exciting. These places aren’t ideal, but they’ve become little writing islands where my story continues to grow.

As for my schedule, it’s a puzzle I solve day by day. I try to write in the afternoons between lessons, catching the quiet moments when the school slows down. Evenings are when I get the most done, once the family is asleep and the house slips into silence, that’s when I open the laptop and step back into Ældorra or whatever world I’m working on.

Weekends are unpredictable. If there’s time, after the housework, the errands, the family time, I write. Sometimes it’s just for twenty minutes, sometimes I surprise myself with a full hour of deep focus. But I’ve learned something valuable: consistency doesn’t always mean strict routines. Sometimes it just means showing up when you can, and making those small moments count.

I don’t write in perfect conditions. I write around life. And in a way, I think that gives my stories more life too.

If you’re a writer juggling your own chaos, I’d love to hear where and when you find your writing windows. Let’s build a space together, even if it’s scattered.