Morning pages are an age-old writerly ritual. The practice of three hand-written pages, first thing in the morning, is a touchstone tool of Julia Live Cameron’s The Artist’s Way.
I don’t doubt the benefits and romanticism of the ritual. Fresh from sleep, crack open your journal and fill a few pages. Write with abandon, a full stream of consciousness.
The rules are often adapted and spun based on who you speak to, and what they think makes for a more productive spell of creativity. Write until your hand cramps, until you have three full pages of ink, or until a timer rings. Do night pages, instead of morning ones. Write at dawn on an empty stomach, or only after your morning exercise.
Morning writing is not new. And every great writer, it seems, has their unique approach.
And despite the universal affirmation there’s no wrong way to do morning pages, for years I knew I was 100% doing them wrong. Because I wasn’t doing them at all. And I used to think I was a terrible writer for that.
This is not for lack of trying. This practice always eluded me throughout college, my years in Brooklyn, and even the periods I was supporting my own clients on their authorship journeys. As much as I was drawn to the idea of a truly analog practice—sitting at a clean desk, writing by hand, and savoring the accomplishment of filling my notebook with fresh ink, the pages eventually turning and crinkling with love—it just didn’t stick.
In reality, I found the process grueling and creatively draining. My fingers were raised to type more than they were to pen. So with morning pages, I was slow to write the words zipping through my brain. My handwriting, no matter how careful, always looked like childish scribbles and scrawls. And despite the content of morning pages never mattering (by definition), I always walked away feeling more blocked and unoriginal with my ideas.
In short, for so long morning pages were, for me, more a creativity extinguisher than an icebreaker.
That all changed last May, when I decided to try yet again but with a twist: to release certain expectations and “rules” around the ritual.
I realized the ceremony of morning pages is not in the special pen, the particular notebook, the mystery of what this ink will become while I forsake the digital world for a time. For me, the magic comes in tiptoeing past everyone’s bedrooms in the early morning, sliding to a new desktop page on my iMac, and typing in a blank Notion doc for 30 dedicated minutes.
The stream of consciousness came more easily, and I surprised myself with the thoughts I was having and the topics I’d cover. What a release to empty out my thoughts before the day’s inputs took over.
I had finally found my unique recipe for morning pages. And if you’d like to give morning pages a shot yourself, here’s how to create your own routine.
Step 1: Identify the time of day you are most likely to be consistently able to do this practice. The first trap of “morning pages” comes in its very name—dictating the when and putting a claim on your time. But for many, afternoons or evenings may be more suitable. Consider where some daily writing best fits your schedule and energy levels. Maybe it’s a particular hour you block, or a scheduling cue, like “when I have my first cup of coffee” or “once the kids are off to school.”
Step 2: Find your preferred mode of writing your pages. Perhaps it's the way you write everything else, or maybe you’ll try something different to mark your ritual. Will you use a notebook or a computer? Pen, pencil, or a particular keyboard? Remember, this is your recipe, so don’t be afraid to be particular and specific in your choices here. Some pens fit your hand better than others. A laptop and a desktop have very different feels. Channel your high-maintenance Mariah Carey here :)
Step 3: Set your surroundings. Environment is everything! For me, this means a room full of sunlight, a chair with lumbar support, a cup of coffee or tea, and a scented candle burning to my right. Consider the sights, sounds, smells, and other sensations that best support your writing.
Step 4: Choose your writing boundaries to signal when you’re done for the day. This helps establish a sense of success and closure to your routine. With morning pages à la The Artist’s Way, the requirement (or boundary) is three full pages. But if that doesn’t fit your style, consider setting a timer, choosing a number of words to write, or something more abstract, like “until my brain feels empty” or “until my dog starts barking at the mailperson.”
Two final thoughts. All great recipes require some trial and error in the beginning to find that signature taste. And, the best part of a recipe is you can adapt it for some renewed excitement. Just like switching out spices or flavors in a traditional dish, sometimes all you need is a little tweak to turn the mundane into something exciting and energizing again.
What’s on the real (or virtual) bookshelf.
Currently reading: What the Most Successful People Do Before Breakfast by Laura Vanderkam
Up next: Our Country Friends by Gary Shteyngart
This episode from Book Riot on The 10 Biggest Bookish Phenomena of Our Reading Lives / Seven Tips to Run a Successful Book Club from The Atlantic / Lily Herman via Shondaland reports: Is TikTok the New Frontier in Book Publishing? / Literally everything in this store
I loved Our Country Friends - what a hilarious satire of country life mid-pandemic 🤣 You’ll appreciate it so much living upstate! Such a great reframe on morning pages too -- yay for introvert morning quiet sneaking around so we sustain it for as long as humanely possible!!!! And for a blissfully quiet house + blank Notion page ready to capture what wants to be said :))
I love this. I recently bought a Dolly Parton prayer candle at a consignment shop, and now when it's time for me to get into deep focus mode, I light the Dolly candle. It's my favorite ritual.
It's also a signal to my teenager to please leave me the hell alone for 40 minutes while I write. :) Boundaries are life.