Writing

It’s no exaggeration to claim that my PhD was transformed by the Pomodoro Technique. As I was studying part-time, it was crucial to make the best possible use of every spare moment. Without that structure, I’d have been trapped in a cycle of procrastination and recrimination. Since then, I’ve used it to write three books, and dozens of shorter pieces. I’ve also shared the Pomodoro Technique in hundreds of workshops and coaching sessions. That’s given me the opportunity to find out how people are actually using it. As with any technique, you get purists who insist you must use it in a specific way. They want you to pay them money to explain that you’re doing it all wrong. There’s no wrong way to use the Pomodoro Technique. And there’s no right way, either. It’s whatever way is helpful for you. ...

Does this sound familiar? You spend all morning squeezing out a paragraph, then all afternoon trying to make it the best paragraph in the world. The next morning, you reread that paragraph, decide it’s rubbish, then delete it. That’s your inner editor ambushing you before you’ve built any momentum. Although we talk about writing as a single monolithic activity, it actually involves three distinct roles or hats: the project manager, the writer, and the editor. Every piece of writing is a project. As project manager, you create a plan for the writer … who also happens to be you. When you’ve completed your draft, you hand it to the editor. Yes, that’s you, too. No wonder you’re tired. ...