How I Structure My Creative Time

If there’s one thing I’ve learned about creativity, it’s that it doesn’t wait around. It shows up when it wants to, and if I’m not ready, it’ll move on without me. That’s why I structure my days around it. For me, the morning is sacred. Once the first meeting hits, the noise of the day takes over, and my creative window quietly closes. So I wake up early. Not because it’s trendy but because it’s the only way I can protect my focus before it gets pulled in a hundred directions.

I’ve always been fascinated by how great writers and creators structure their lives, not just their work. I honestly didn’t study Stephen King, Christopher Nolan, or Hayao Miyazaki to copy their techniques, I studied how they lived. How they showed up to the page or the storyboard with care, intention, and discipline. King writes every morning. Nolan creates environments where deep, focused thinking is possible. Miyazaki treats animation like a living thing…slow, detailed, and deeply emotional. That’s what I wanted to learn from. Not how they write, but how they prepare to write.

That level of discipline gave me permission to take my own creative work seriously. I’m currently working on my first screenplay, Degen Galaxy – a 2D animated story about the tech and venture capital world, told with a mix of humor, satire, and reverence. It’s a love letter to the tech ecosystem and the odd cast of characters that drive it forward. I think the tech world is one of the most fascinating and absurd modern landscapes. Covering it like a creative historian that in part lives in it, is one of the most fun challenges I’ve taken on.

I’m deeply inspired by the sheer amount of smart creativity it takes to build something out of nothing, whether it’s a startup or a story. And I think 2D animation is one of the greatest artistic forms we have. There’s something timeless about it – hand-drawn movement, carefully crafted expressions, each frame a decision. It’s not fast, it’s not optimized, which gives it more meaning. That really speaks to me. There’s beauty in the slowness and the labor, and I try to carry that same energy into my writing.

People sometimes ask how I stay motivated to write, and the honest answer is: I’m just a fan. I love great writing. I love a perfect line of dialogue. I love when a story turns in a way I didn’t expect but instantly understand. I’m the type of person that will listen to the same great song on repeat 1000 times. Reading great writing is like listening to your that amazing song on repeat – I just don’t get tired of it. So writing creatively never feels like a burden. It feels like I’m getting to be a part of the thing I love most.

But writing time doesn’t appear out of nowhere. I’ve learned to treat it like any other kind of commitment, it needs a container. For me, that’s usually the first two hours of the morning. No email, no Slack, no news, no multitasking. If something good comes out of it, great. If not, that’s fine too. The point is to show up and make space.

My only advice to other writers is this: get the first few lines onto paper as soon as you wake up. Don’t wait for inspiration to arrive…just start. Writing is rhythm. Writing is flow. Even if those first few lines end up getting cut or rewritten later, they serve a purpose. They’re your warmup, your way of telling your brain, “It’s time now.” I actually learned this by watching the old “master” at the Korean hair salon I go to. When someone walks in with a huge, unruly mane, you can almost see the wheels turning in his mind- mapping, planning, imagining. But before he dives into anything major, I noticed he always makes a few small snips. Maybe they don’t mean much structurally, but they matter. It’s how he gets into flow. A cue to his hands and his mind: now we shape, now we create.

I’ve come to respect this idea that creative structure isn’t about rules, it’s about rhythm. You don’t force it, but you do make room for it. And when you treat your time with care, it responds. It’s not magic. It’s just attention. When I give my creativity a place to land, it usually shows up.

And that’s really what it comes down to for me … attention, time, and care. Just the quiet, consistent practice of making space to do the work I love.