When I posted a few days ago, I mentioned the advice which is so controversial among writers and aspiring writers, namely, that a writer must write every day.

I hate to break it to everybody, but based on the past four weeks, I have to concur.

I have now written at least 1,000 words every day for the past 28 days. I can’t say whether I really thought I’d do it or not, because the truth is that I didn’t ask the question.

Instead, I just wrote. Every day since April 1, at some point I’ve opened up my Surface and written at least 1,000 words of my new book. Most times, I’ve done it in my recliner, with tea on one side and Charlotte on the other. I didn’t question whether I felt like writing, because if I had, there likely would have been at least a couple nights when I’d have said no, like the night when I was falling asleep as I typed.

But my draft is coming along. I have a much better sense of the story now than I did a month ago. Back then, I had no idea whether what I was thinking of writing about would hold together. So far, it’s holding. And I believe it’s working because I’m writing consistently, picking up the thread every day before I can lose momentum.

I’m a discovery writer, always have been. (Translation for those who aren’t writers: a discovery writer is one who doesn’t work out the plot in advance. Instead, they discover the story as they write. Some refer to these two camps as plotters and pantsers (writing by the seat of their pants); I prefer the term discovery writer.) Being a discovery writer can be scary, because when you reach the inevitable spot where all you can think is, “What the hell happens now?”, you can’t turn to your trusty outline. On the other hand, it’s exhilarating to find out who these characters are and how they’re going to get out of this mess they’ve created for themselves.

As a discovery writer, it’s essential to keep my mind in the story and the story in my mind. My purple notebook is seldom far from reach these days so that if I have a thought while I’m out and about, I can jot it down and see whether I want to play with it in today’s writing session. But I’m doing more than just making notes. I’m making the story itself, and as it turns out, story begets story. To keep writing is to keep writing.

I know that people have lots of reasons not to write, from fatigue to busyness to fear to crises overwhelming them. On the other hand, I’ve talked with writers who insist that they can only write if they have a large block of time—several hours or more. Others say that they can’t write until they feel inspired. Still others blame circumstances, including other people’s preferences; I recall one aspiring writer who said she would start writing seriously when her daughter (then age 15) went off to college, because right now, mother and daughter liked to snuggle up on the sofa together to watch television. All of which is essentially code for writing my story just isn’t that important to me, which is perfectly fine. Not everyone wants to write. Some people want to have written, which is different, except that you can’t get there without first doing the writing that they say they want to do even though in reality, they’d rather watch the Spring Baking Championship (which I personally adore) or play golf or do any of a thousand other worthy things that don’t involve sitting alone in front of a blank screen while everybody else is out enjoying life.

The bottom line is that everybody makes choices. For those who truly want to write, the choice is to turn off the television (or step away while others continue watching), to pick up a pen or log into a document and put words on the page, one after another, without wondering whether they’re perfect (or even very good), because that comes later, after the draft exists.

Don’t kid yourself: writing is hard. It takes time. It offers no guarantees. It can break your heart. All I can promise you is that if you do it every single day, and you don’t give yourself the chance to say, “Gee, I don’t feel like writing today,” it will get less hard.

This is not to say that you won’t struggle, because you will. That’s just a part of the deal. But if you keep working at your writing, and you do it every day and never get too far away from it, and you keep chipping away at all the parts of the marble block that don’t look like an angel, eventually you will have a story.