Kerouac worked at night, usually alone, in bursts that could flatten weeks of ordinary life into a few sleepless days. He wrote fast and leaned on small rituals to drop into the work. The candle he lit is the detail people tend to remember.

The Direct Answer
He wrote at night in fast, unedited bursts, with a candle ritual to bracket each session.
Kerouac described lighting a candle to write by and blowing it out when he finished, per his 1968 Paris Review interview.

A Night Writer

Kerouac favored the late hours, when the phone stayed quiet and the house went still. He would work long past midnight, sometimes straight through to dawn, then sleep through the morning. His big projects came in concentrated pushes rather than a steady nine-to-five: about three weeks for the On the Road scroll, three nights for The Subterraneans. When a book had hold of him, he let ordinary hours fall apart.

He leaned on small rituals to begin. In his Paris Review interview he described a candle he lit to write by and snuffed out when the night's work was done, a plain signal to his head that the session had started. He prayed before writing, and he wrote some projects in pencil by hand. The rituals were less about superstition than about crossing a line into the work.

A lot of this happened at his mother's kitchen table. For long stretches of his life Kerouac lived with his mother, and the late-night desk was often hers, cleared once everyone else had gone to bed. The solitude mattered as much as the hour. He needed a spot where nothing was expected of him and nobody was waiting on an answer, and the middle of the night was the easiest place to find it.

I had a ritual once of lighting a candle and writing by its light and blowing it out when I was done for the night.

Jack Kerouac, The Paris Review, 1968

Fast Drafts, Slower Truth

The speed was real. Kerouac trained himself to draft without stopping, following his spontaneous prose method so the words arrived faster than second-guessing could catch them. Still, the picture of a man who typed a masterpiece in one caffeinated blast and never looked back is only half true. Coffee, and in that period of his life benzedrine, kept the long sessions going, yet the finished books went through genuine revision before they reached print.

That gap between the fast draft and the polished book is the useful part. Kerouac got the raw material down while the energy was high, then did the shaping later with a clearer head. The legend squeezes those two stages into one heroic burst, which makes for a better story and worse advice.

The bursts were also not a healthy long-term system, and it is worth saying so plainly. The all-night sessions and the heavy drinking that trailed his later years wore him down, and Kerouac died young, at forty-seven. You can admire the focus of the method and still leave the self-destruction out of your own copy of it.

For the whole picture, including the scroll and his prose rules, read the full Jack Kerouac writing routine.

What You Can Steal