I'm Finishing My Novel In 2022, 2023, 2024...

The Novel Finishing Goal

“I’m finishing a novel THIS YEAR. In 2024, I have a simple goal. Finish my novel.”

I said this in January/February of 2024. It’s now April of 2025. The Novel is not finished.

I had a plan, though, I really did.

I’d focus on ONE novel. I made a goal of writing 1000 words a day for 30 days while using pomodoro timers of 20 mins to write and 10 minutes to rest in order to keep myself on track, and to keep writing steadily.

I joined several writing communities, such as Scribophile’s Writing Together that meets by zoom Monday through Friday mornings 10-11am ET. I also took online free writing classes, all meant to get me into the zone, and to keep my motivation and intent up.

But what happened? Why with all of this perfect planning and motivation did I still not finish my novel?

Well for one, my bad habits of procrastinating persisted. Several days would stretch by where I hadn’t touched my WIP.

And for two, I did realize that my biggest enemy is myself. I stand in my own way.

Three, I asked God for help, I got on my knees and told God I wasn’t able to do this on my own, because I kept failing, and I needed His strength.

I kept writing, and life kept going. I was in grad school, changed what I was working on multiple times.

Disaster struck.

In under two years, I’ve had multiple surgeries (and fifth one coming up April 25^th.) Two on my ankle, which I had broken in multiple places, and two on my right eye, the upcoming fifth surgery is on my left eye.

Due to the surgeries, and the sudden breaking of my ankle, I had to take a break from grad school. I lost a best friend over this, who was upset I wouldn’t be there on campus for her last semester, and she rage quit our relationship.

Heartbroken by losing her, I abruptly stopped writing, and stopped drawing, for several months, I lost all of my creative impetus. But then I did get back up.

Getting dumped as a best friend, even as an adult, didn’t stop hurting. I swallowed the pain that I wasn’t wanted anymore, and turned my attention towards healing my ankle, and getting back into my writing.

I started journaling again, after all, what more to tell your journal that your best friend has abandoned you?

I picked up my sketchbook again. I started finding new author channels to watch on YouTube, and joined a bunch of new online writing and artist communities. I joined Substack (though that took me forever to get over my fear of publishing on it, but hey, here I am!)

I wanted to find people who do want me, and won’t throw me away once I’ve lost my usefulness.

And I did find them. I also realized I already had them. I already had long-lasting friends who have been with me this entire time who never pushed me away, and thrown me away and treated me like they don’t care about me anymore, for any reason, have never made me feel unloved. They’ve been here, and when I told them what happened, they helped me see the truth of what the entire relationship was like, and were there to help me heal.

I’ve made a commitment to not just finishing my novel, but to my career to be a successful novelist, as well as I want to draw comics and make graphic novels. My only enemy is myself, and I’m not standing for it anymore. Outline, no outline, I’m getting the writing done.

I’ve figured out why I kept not finishing a novel. The real reason I keep starting all over, is I feel that the story isn’t good enough. I can see that the draft is heading to a dead end, so I just scrap it, and start writing a different story. Over and over, rather than write a failing story, I try to start over with writing a perfect story. So I end up with nothing done.

My current W.I.P. has changed titles, and main characters and new plots and redone settings over and over and over again.

I think I just forgot that a rough draft isn’t supposed to be perfect. Rough drafts are supposed to ugly and dirty and messy. They’re supposed to be something you want to hide away, and don’t let anyone see. And that’s why you then clean it up, and tidy it up, and edit it, and make a second draft or third draft. Then it’s the child that’s well-clothed and fit enough to go out in public to be viewed, those better cleaned up drafts that you let others read and get feedback on.

Write it anyway.

Write through the pain of a non-perfect first draft.

Stephen King said a first draft should only take 3 months, so that’s what I am aiming for.

Of course its now going on 5 months into the new year, since I’ve procrastinated so much, but I’ll let that go, and focus going forward. I’ll do my best to finish my novel in 3 months from now.

I am finishing my novel in 2025.

Period, dot, dot.

Thanks for listening, Storytellers.

Are you writing a novel? How long have you been writing it? Do you have a goal to finish what you’re writing?

Let’s talk about it in the comments!