Many of these elements are also basic narrative conventions. Of course, everyone has the right to tell their story the way they see fit, and sometimes rules should be broken. But it’s important to understand (and try to apply) the basic conventions of a good story before deciding to deviate. For one thing, readers come to stories with a set of expectations based on narrative and genre conventions. For another, debut authors—especially in the increasingly competitive market of traditional publishing—have to show that they know what they’re doing. 

If you want to write a compelling, meaningful story that hooks your reader, then you want to look for and fix these five common first draft mistakes in your novel. 

1. No larger point or message

When I read a draft that is missing a larger point or message, I’m often left confused or dissatisfied because the story elements don’t add up to anything bigger. The character’s journey doesn’t have a larger purpose, or the plot takes a sudden turn that doesn’t make sense to me. I don’t see a connection between what happens and why it matters. I don’t walk away having my worldview questioned or reaffirmed. 

Whether readers realize it or not, they come to books to examine something about the world or the human condition (for more on the science of why we read, check out Lisa Cron’s Wired for Story). The point or message is the heart of the book—it’s the central argument the writer wants to make and the piece that resonates with readers. 

It’s also the foundation that the rest of the story is built on because everything must drive toward making that point.

Not having a point or message is sometimes a symptom of the other story problems, and sometimes it’s the root. When it’s the root, the writer often has no driving force behind why the characters do what they do or why the plot goes where it does. When it’s a symptom, it’s often because the writer is simply seeing their story as a series of events without a greater meaning. 

If you don’t have a message—something you want to say with your story—stop and consider this: Why must you write this novel? What universal truth is it proving? 

It’s okay if your point sounds like a cliché. Clichés persist and resonate because there’s a kernel of truth in them. 

Now consider if your protagonist’s arc and your story events connect to that point. If not, I recommend tweaking your plans before continuing to write or revise forward. 

2. Too much focus on plot instead of story

We often use the terms “plot” and “story” interchangeably, but there’s an important distinction between them. A plot without story is simply not as compelling because it reads like just a series of events; there should be more going on underneath those events.

Plot is what happens, and story is why that matters to the protagonist. Story encompasses the protagonist’s arc of change—what they learn from the plot events and why. It also touches on the emotions they experience and the point of their journey. A draft that is all plot without story feels shallow. I often find myself wondering “why?” which takes me right out of the novel. 

This might be happening in your draft if you started with a plot and didn’t give as much thought to your point or protagonist’s journey. Try flipping the script before you go any further. 

Ask yourself: what does your main character learn throughout the course of the story? And how will they hold themself back from getting their goal? How do they change throughout? How do the events of the story change them? 

Map out your character’s internal journey, then weigh your plot against it to see if the events are challenging them and moving your protagonist forward in a meaningful way. 

3. No clear character arc for the protagonist

As I hinted at in the previous point, we come to stories expecting to see a change happen in the protagonist. There are other types of character arcs, but the most common and conventional is a positive arc where a character starts off as one type of person and ends as a different type of person. They change by recognizing their internal flaw and making an effort to overcome that. 

Why is this important? Because when we read, we put ourselves in someone else’s viewpoint with the interest in seeing how they overcome difficult odds (so we can experience difficulties without risking that same challenge ourselves). In that process, we want to see the protagonist change internally, not just externally. 

When I read a draft where the protagonist doesn’t change or the arc of change isn’t clear, I feel cheated. This person went through all these trials, and they didn’t learn anything?! I don’t buy it. 

If this piece is missing in your draft, start by asking yourself two questions: Who is my character at the start of the story? And who are they at the end? 

Those two things should be fairly different if not opposite (e.g., my character starts as someone who doesn’t believe in love and ends not only believing in love but also experiencing it for herself). 

Then plan how you can get your character to resist that change for as long as possible (until the climax) when they will finally learn the lesson of the story because everything else they’ve tried hasn’t worked, and decide to make that change. 

4. Details or subplots don’t pay off

When I read, I’m like a bloodhound sniffing out clues, and the clues I’m looking for are hints about what’s going to happen next in the book. I jump on every seemingly significant detail and assume that it means something. Oh, she set her diary down on the coffee table? Yeah, that’s going to come into play later. 

As writer Anton Chekhov said (in many various ways): “If in the first act you have hung a pistol on the wall, then in the following one it should be fired. Otherwise, don’t put it there.”

Again, this is because of how our brains are wired: to look for meaning in everything. So when a writer calls out a specific thing early on in the story, we subconsciously believe that it will become important later, and we hold on to it.  

As such, significant details and subplots should connect to the main character’s plight or the theme of the story. If a detail or subplot doesn’t ultimately go anywhere, at best, the reader is distracted by it, and at worst, the reader is confused. 

What distinguishes general description from significant details? The latter are what you, the writer, take specific care to draw a reader’s attention to. So, you’ll probably have many descriptions of places, and characters, and actions throughout your book that won’t stand out to readers. But any time you emphasize an element—perhaps because it is unusual, memorable, abnormal, etc—that will stick in your readers’ minds as a significant detail. 

Check your draft to see if you have called out or lingered on any details. Do these matter in the larger story? 

If the character setting the diary on the coffee table doesn’t pay off, edit the description to make it less conspicuous (“I set the diary aside”) or take it out. 

Also check for any side characters or subplots that suddenly disappear. Make sure you either connect these to the story’s resolution or give them their own resolution. If not, cut them. 

5. No cause-and-effect trajectory from one scene to the next

When a draft doesn’t have a cause-and-effect trajectory, the story and characters can feel illogical. It often seems like they are acting without thinking or feeling, and the events are disconnected.

Because a novel is not just a series of events, it’s important to remember that each scene—each action your protagonist takes—should drive from one to the next. Ultimately, your characters are constantly acting and reacting. 

If a character gets a surprising piece of news in one scene (unless you’re creating a non-linear timeline), then they should either do something to process that news in the next scene or they should act in some way that is informed by that news. Even in the case of a non-linear timeline, there’s still that underlying cause and effect, you’re just presenting the scenes to your reader out of order. 

One of the best ways to test this for yourself is to summarize each of your scenes and try to insert the phrase “because of that” in-between them. 

An example would be: In the first scene, my character gets a surprising piece of news that her father had died. Because of that, in scene two, she rushes home from college to be with her family. Because of that, she finds out that it isn’t true. Because of that… 

If “because of that” doesn’t make sense between your scenes, then they are not being triggered by what comes before them. 

While these points don’t encompass all there is to a good story, it’s hard to have a compelling novel without them. Whether you’re in the planning stages of your next project or you’re revising a completed draft, I’d recommend using this list of common first draft mistakes to guide you. And I know it can be daunting to tackle such big-picture issues, but remember that your story can only improve from here!

Tell us in the comments: Have you made any of these common first draft mistakes? How did you fix them?

Heather Campbell is a book coach who helps writers develop tools to overcome their perfectionism and mindset blocks so they can create lasting and effective writing habits to complete a novel. When she’s not immersed in fiction, she’s running in the fresh mountain air of Colorado or snuggling with her rescue dog, Chase. Find out more at www.thewriterremedy.com and follow her on Instagram!

The post #5onFri: Five Common First Draft Mistakes (and How to Fix Them) appeared first on DIY MFA.

We tend to think that perfectionists obsess over word choice or comma placement simply because of incredibly high standards, but it goes deeper than that. 

In her book, The Gifts of Imperfection, Brené Brown explains, “There’s a significant difference between perfectionism and healthy striving or striving for excellence. Perfectionism is the belief that if we do things perfectly and look perfect, we can minimize or avoid the pain of blame, judgment, and shame.”

Perfectionism in writers is motivated by the fear that if our work isn’t flawless—and if we can’t execute it easily and effortlessly—it means that we are not good enough and that others will judge us. 

We believe this for two reasons. The first is that perfectionists tend to tie our self-worth to the outcome of our work. If we produce a messy draft or struggle to write a novel, it feels like a sign that we are failures. 

The second reason is that perfectionists tend to have a fixed mindset, meaning that we believe we cannot significantly improve the skills, intelligence, and creativity we have. As such, mistakes seem like proof of our inadequacy. 

Perfectionists develop habits that keep us from putting in a full effort. If we don’t really try, we don’t risk failure. But we also can’t possibly write a book without making mistakes and persevering through uncertainty. So, we feel stuck; we feel like we’re doing something wrong or that we’re not meant to write a book. Perfectionism keeps us safe, but it also keeps us from achieving our goals. 

One of the most challenging things about recognizing and overcoming perfectionism is that it’s sneaky. There are many different ways it can show up for different writers, but here are five common ones: 

1. Procrastinating on writing by researching

Perfectionists procrastinate when we’re afraid. For example, we’re scared that if we attempt to write the next scene and it doesn’t come out right, it means we just don’t have the skills it takes. Thus, we put off starting. 

But doing something “productive,” like researching, can also be procrastinating. 

This is especially true if you find yourself thinking that you can’t possibly start to write until you understand every intricate detail of the historical period your novel is set in or you’ve researched every possible method to plot your story. You may convince yourself that you have to know these things to get your story right, but it’s more likely that the fear of getting it wrong is keeping you from starting.

If this has you stuck, remember that the method you stick with will be the one that works, and you don’t have to know everything before you begin. There is no amount of research that will allow you to write a perfect story on the first try. 

In fact, the thing that can help you move past this is to intentionally write messy. Tell yourself that you’re just practicing the scene that has you afraid or you’re just making notes about what will happen. This takes the pressure off.  

2. Writing only when motivated

Perfectionists often see effort as a sign of inadequacy because we believe that if we were meant to write (i.e., we were born with the gift), writing would be easy. This fuels the idea that we should only write when we’re motivated. If we don’t feel like doing it, we think we won’t produce good work. 

Of course, the case with motivation is that it often comes after we get started. 

Furthermore, if we don’t learn to write when we’re not motivated, we won’t stick with a project long enough to finish it. 

Developing a writing routine can help you learn to start without motivation. Consider scheduling your writing sessions at the beginning of the week (keep your expectations realistic about how much you can do) and work on just opening your laptop at the designated times. That’s all. 

But you’ll probably find that you get some writing done because staring at a blank screen gets old quickly. 

3. Waiting for the right time or idea to get started

This is similar to waiting for motivation, but the underlying thought is that if the time is right or the idea is perfect, it will be easy to write the book. 

Again, we’re trying to find a way to complete a novel without making mistakes, but the writing process is inherently messy. No matter how free your schedule is or how good your idea is, you will have ups and downs. 

Writers who finish their books learn to develop a so-so idea into a really stellar concept. Additionally, they learn to work with the resources they have and to fit their writing practice around their life. 

If you find yourself thinking that you should wait to work on your novel, get curious about the thought. Ask yourself why you feel that way and try to dig down to the underlying emotions. 

Consider freewriting about what comes up and why it doesn’t have to prevent you from starting now. 

4. Feeling like mistakes are a sign of failure

Because of the fixed mindset that perfectionists have, we tend to see mistakes as proof that we are not capable of writing a book. And that translates to the idea that we are a failure. That kind of thinking is all-or-nothing, meaning your efforts either lead to success or failure with no in-between. 

In reality, the in-between is progress, and even mistakes count as progress. Because the opposite of a fixed mindset is a growth mindset—or a belief that you can develop your intelligence, skills, and creativity through practice. 

When you embrace this mindset, mistakes become a learning opportunity, and they help you see where you can grow and improve. 

5. Resisting getting feedback

Many writers struggle to get feedback on our work because we often feel that it is personal. It’s that much more difficult for perfectionists who have tied their worth to their writing. And when we believe we can’t get better, that negative feedback feels like a spotlight on our flaws. Who’d willingly subject themselves to that? 

But feedback doesn’t have to be personal. 

In fact, what helped me change my relationship to feedback is the idea that it tells you more about the person offering the critique than it tells you about yourself or your work. Feedback shows you what your reviewer’s preferences are, and—if they represent your ideal reader—if your work is connecting. It is not a sign that you’ve done something wrong or that you are wrong. 

I share this because I spent too long thinking that I wasn’t perfect enough to be a perfectionist. But all along, it was perfectionism—my fear of being imperfect—that was keeping me from finishing every writing project I started. 

It made me feel like I had no hope as a writer if I couldn’t produce a flawless draft easily. And even though I knew perfection wasn’t possible, perfectionism still drove me to avoid making mistakes. 

The good thing is that perfectionism is not a trait you’re stuck with. It’s just a mindset and set of habits, both of which you can change. 

The key is to remember that overcoming perfectionism—like writing a novel—is a messy process and it doesn’t happen overnight. But with consistent effort and a willingness to persist through setbacks, you can do it!

Tell us in the comments: What helps you get over your perfectionism?

Heather Campbell is a book coach who helps writers develop tools to overcome their perfectionism and mindset blocks so they can create lasting and effective writing habits to complete a novel. When she’s not immersed in fiction, she’s running in the fresh mountain air of Colorado or snuggling with her rescue dog, Chase. Find out more at www.thewriterremedy.com and follow her on Instagram

The post #5onFri: Five Sneaky Ways Perfectionism Sabotages Your Writing appeared first on DIY MFA.

For too long, I felt like I didn’t have much control over my writing habits. I thought that I was beholden to the muse to show up and motivate me to write, which meant that I didn’t write nearly as much as I wanted to. The only other thing that got me writing was a hard-and-fast external deadline, which meant I continually floundered on personal projects. 

Then I realized that writing is like any other skill I’d want to develop—I needed to put in time and effort to practice it, and I needed to believe that I could improve. I also needed to believe that I could change my habits. 

Our self-belief drives our actions. For example, if you tell yourself that you are a procrastinator, then when you have the option to work on a project in advance of a deadline, you’ll still choose to procrastinate because it’s aligned with the way you see yourself. And the more you procrastinate, the more you reinforce the belief that you’re a procrastinator. 

So first, you must open yourself to the possibility that you can change your process and develop a consistent writing practice. Then you must implement actions that make it so. 

Here are five strategies that will help you build a consistent writing practice: 

1. Schedule your writing sessions

The main obstacle to consistent writing practice is that we don’t plan to get the work done. We hope that we’ll do the work when we feel motivated, or that we’ll squeeze it in when we have some free time, but often the motivation or the time doesn’t come. We prioritize all the other to-dos on our lists and the weeks fly by without any writing progress. 

Instead, try starting each week by committing your writing sessions to your calendar. 

I was resistant to this idea at first; I worried that too much structure would feel restrictive and kill my creativity. Instead, knowing when I was supposed to get my writing done removed my decision fatigue. When the appointment popped up on my phone, I didn’t debate if I should write or check something else off my to-do list (or scroll Instagram, if I’m being honest). I sat down and got to work. And I realized that rather than feeling stifled by the structure, I was happier because I was finally acting like the consistent writer I wanted to be. 

2. Create a writing routine

Creating a replicable writing routine can make starting each session easier. When you do the same series of things every time before you sit down to write, you prime your brain to transition out of its last task and get into writing mode. 

This works even better when you optimize your routine. Take a moment to consider: 

• Where do you write best? 
• What time of day do you feel most creative? 
• What does your ideal writing environment consist of? 
• And how can you create a series of small, replicable actions that get you into writing mode?

Establishing a routine helps me get into the flow more quickly. Mine consists of getting a warm drink, lighting a candle, and snuggling under a blanket in a quiet room with my laptop. 

Figure out what works for you and try to start every writing session the same way. 

3. Use journaling to stop procrastination

If you’ve scheduled your writing sessions and created a routine, but you’re still finding it difficult to actually start writing, it’s time to get curious about why you’re procrastinating. 

Journaling helps us sort through our thoughts—especially the subconscious ones that keep us stuck or the thought patterns we barely notice. Pull out a journal and ask yourself, “Why am I procrastinating?” then write down whatever comes up. 

I’ve found that I often procrastinate on my writing when I’m afraid. I fear that the words won’t be good enough, or that I don’t know what to write next. I don’t want to get things wrong, so I put off starting. But getting these worries down on paper helps me recognize that they aren’t so scary and don’t have to keep me stuck. 

Journaling has the bonus benefit of acting as a writing warm-up. 

4. Evaluate your success based on progress, not outcome

This applies to both your writing and building a consistent writing practice. If you’re solely focused on creating perfect outcomes—producing flawless pages and never faltering with your new habits—you’ll have a harder time staying on track. This is because anything less feels like a failure, and failure doesn’t inspire most of us to keep going. 

Alternatively, if you can recognize that you’re making progress by writing more often than not and by adding words (even if they’re not all great) to your work-in-progress, you’ll feel more satisfied and motivated to keep going. 

When I start to despair that I’m failing, I try to stop and reframe. I make myself think about what I have accomplished. 

If I miss a scheduled writing session and my brain wants to say it’s the end of my consistency, I recall all the times I did show up for my writing, and it gives me confidence that I can do that again. 

Or when I write a scene that doesn’t work, I think of it as a learning opportunity. Those pages won’t make it into the book, but writing them has gotten me closer to figuring out what the story actually is. 

5. Find an accountability buddy or a coach

You don’t have to be perfectly self-motivated at the start—or ever. Though the myth persists that writing is a solitary action, getting outside support and external accountability can help you achieve your goals more quickly. 

Like bumpers are to bowling, a writing buddy or a coach can be that little bit of extra help you need while you’re still developing your new habits. Then, once you’ve strengthened your writing muscle, you may not need external motivation. 

I’m a book coach who works with my own book coach because I love having that accountability. When I have the chance to do something other than working on my writing, but I know I have to turn in pages to someone I’ve paid to help me, I’m less likely to procrastinate or slack off.

As you implement some or all of these tips, remember that the process of building a consistent writing practice (or any new habit!) often isn’t linear. There will be weeks when it feels easy to maintain new habits and the words flow through you, but just as likely, there will be times when you struggle. Life will get in the way, or you will get out of the practice. That’s okay! 

You can always come back to these steps at any time. And if you’ve built a foundation, you don’t have to start over at square one. You’ll be able to pick up the routine more easily than before. 

Tell us in the comments: Do you have a consistent writing practice? What tricks did you use to develop one? If not, what tips are you going to try first?

Heather Campbell is a book coach who helps writers develop tools to overcome their perfectionism and mindset blocks so they can create lasting and effective writing habits to complete a novel. When she’s not immersed in fiction, she’s running in the fresh mountain air of Colorado or snuggling with her rescue dog, Chase. Find out more at www.thewriterremedy.com and follow her on Instagram!

The post #5onFri: Five Tips to Build a Consistent Writing Practice appeared first on DIY MFA.

Through my own struggles with writing a novel, as well as my work with other writers, I’ve seen this firsthand. Cultivating the right mindset about writing a novel is just as critical to success as understanding the craft of it. 

Here are the five things about writing a novel that I wish I’d realized sooner.

1. Let yourself be a beginner at writing a novel.

When you first start writing a novel, you are a beginner, no matter how much writing you have done before. You will struggle with description, you will write flat characters, and you will agonize over making dialogue sound real. 

It’s even more frustrating if you’re an avid reader, and you know what good storytelling and good writing look like. You may think you’ll be able to easily replicate advanced skills in your story. 

What you’re experiencing is a gap between your taste and skills. Ira Glass explains: “All of us who do creative work, we get into it because we have good taste. But there is this gap. For the first couple years, you make stuff, it’s just not that good. It’s trying to be good, it has potential, but it’s not. But your taste, the thing that got you into the game, is still killer. And your taste is why your work disappoints you.”

Writers give up in the early stages of the first draft because they don’t understand how their writing could be so bad—especially if they’ve been told before that they’re good at writing. But even if you’ve been good at writing other things, you’re a beginner at writing a novel. So try not to compare yourself to your favorite authors or expect that you should be more advanced. Give yourself the grace to be bad and the permission to practice your craft until it improves. 

2. Everyone has to learn how to write a novel.

Our tastes trip us up, but so does a belief in natural talent. There’s a pervasive idea that some writers are just born with it, that a whole and compelling story just flows out of them and onto the page. 

However, despite how easy some novelists make this endeavor look, no one is born knowing how to write a book. Yet, so many first-time novelists sit down with the hope that they are a natural talent, and that writing will be easy and storytelling will come effortlessly. If we don’t get our first draft perfect on the first try, we might believe it’s a sign that we don’t have the gift and we can’t do it. 

In reality, you have to learn. Even if you have plenty of experience writing articles and short stories, you still have to learn to write a novel. 

A novel’s conventions are not like any other piece of writing. A novel is also such a large-scale project that it requires a different approach. Learn about story structure and character development. Try out different planning methods and writing habits. Look at a novel as something you have to learn how to do. 

3. You don’t have to do it on your own.

Along with the genius myth, we also believe that writers do their work alone. And while the act of writing is generally solitary, working on a novel should involve outside input. We get so close to our own work that we can’t evaluate it objectively. Getting outside perspectives on your story will help you see the problems that you can’t identify on your own. And help abounds to get your writing and your story in the best possible shape. DIY MFA, writing groups, critique partners, coaches, editors, workshops, and more are all available to you.

You also don’t have to wait until you already have a draft to get help. Want to skip years of writing in circles, trying to figure out on your own how to raise the stakes of your novel or make your characters more believable? Take a class or work one-on-one with a book coach. 

Asking for help doesn’t mean that you’re not cut out to write; it’s just a more efficient way to learn and hone your craft. 

Getting help will better prepare you for traditional publishing as well given that the industry is more competitive than ever, and agents don’t have as much time as they once did to help promising writers develop their skills. As such, they’re less likely to take on a writer who’s not quite there yet. So before you query, you should take advantage of any opportunity you can to learn new skills, get feedback on your work, and make your draft the best it can be. 

4. Editing will take longer than drafting.

Many beginning writers think that the hard part of the process is completing the first draft; then all the story needs is a polish, and the book is ready to publish. They wind up discouraged when they either finish the draft and find it’s a mess, or they try to query a story that’s just not ready and get continually rejected.

Instead, go into your first draft with the mindset that your novel will be far from done when you type “the end.” In fact, in the case of your first novel, the editing process will likely take the bulk of your time. You can’t see the scope of your novel until you’ve completed a full draft because you discover so much about your story and your characters along the way. And then you can see what’s working and what isn’t. 

Ultimately, your first draft will need a massive story-level edit before line edits. Plan to spend significant time on that step of the process. 

5. Persistence is more important than talent or natural ability. 

Given the debunked myth about natural talent, the thing that separates successful writers from—well, writers who do not publish or do not finish—is persistence. 

It takes time to learn, to practice, to develop your skills, to revisit your story over and over to make it better, to work with others and apply their feedback. But writers who think that talent is all it takes will not realize they need to put in this effort; they will never see their skills improve because they give up when the work gets hard. 

I’ll admit that this happened to me on more than one draft. I felt like my terrible first drafts were a sign that I couldn’t write well, and I’d never get better. I just never got better because I kept quitting. 

So remember, your writing and storytelling skills can be improved, but only if you’re prepared to stick it out through all the tough times. 

With the right mindset, you can learn to look at those challenges as opportunities for growth, rather than warning signs that you’re doing it wrong. 

In fact, if you have the mindset that writing a novel takes continual learning and practice, and you show up to write consistently, you’re doing it right. 

Heather Campbell is a book coach who helps writers develop tools to overcome their perfectionism and mindset blocks so they can create lasting and effective writing habits to complete a novel. When she’s not immersed in fiction, she’s running in the fresh mountain air of Colorado or snuggling with her rescue dog, Chase. Find out more at www.thewriterremedy.com and follow her on Instagram!

The post #5onFri: Five Things I Wish I’d Known about Writing a Novel appeared first on DIY MFA.

They’re both ambitious undertakings that require consistent, focused effort over a longer period of time. They both require a special kind of dedication and optimism. And neither once comes without its setbacks. But that’s why we take on these challenges: to prove ourselves. To accomplish something. Oh, and to maybe achieve fame and fortune if we’re good.

If you want to be one of the rare few that writes a novel, you can learn a lot from the process of running a marathon to improve your writing. 

1.   It’s more of a mental challenge than you think

Obviously, writing a novel is a cerebral pursuit, much more so than running. But both activities challenge you mentally, especially if you have to find a way to keep going when all reason tells you to stop. In fact, the hardest part of running a marathon, in my experience, was convincing myself the entire time not to stop just because it was hard. 

The very same internal struggle happens for many writers. Maybe you worry that everything you write is trash. Maybe your brain tries to convince you to go do something easier. But you must develop the mental strength to overcome those self-defeating thoughts. You must get started anyway. A common piece of running advice is to just commit to ten minutes. At that point, you’re warmed up, and you’re more likely to keep going. The same holds true for writing. Even if you don’t feel like starting, just sit down to type for ten minutes. You’ll likely find your groove and move past the negative thoughts. 

2.   Planning and preparation will increase your chances of success

Just like there are pantsers who sit down and write a whole novel “by the seat of their pants,” there are also a handful of people who do a marathon with very little training. In the case of the former, many let their messy, pantsed drafts sit for years because they’re too difficult to fix. As for the latter—you can’t walk for two weeks after the race. 

Of course, there are outliers in both cases, but you’re likely to get a better outcome in writing and running if you prepare. Learning how to write a novel, coupled with researching your subject, developing your characters and world, and creating an outline will make writing your first draft a smoother process. Similarly, building up your mileage slowly, following a training plan, and learning about proper nutrition, will help you get across the finish line in better shape and with a time you can be proud of. 

3.   There are no shortcuts

A marathon is 26.2 miles—no more no less. A book is tens of thousands of words. As much as we’d like to make both easier, they are simply not. And there’s no way to shortcut the distance or the process. Preparation makes you better equipped to handle the difficulties, but if you want to achieve either goal, you’re signing up for a long process. 

However, throughout that long process, you’ll learn a lot. You’ll tweak your running form to become more efficient, or you’ll establish a writing routine that helps you get into a state of flow. You’ll try different things and determine what works and what doesn’t. You’ll get faster or you’ll dial in your writing voice. Despite the challenges and frustrations, you’ll come to appreciate going the long way. You will come out a much better writer or runner because of it. 

4.   The last stretch is the hardest part 

Once you get through the first 20 miles of a marathon, the last 6.2 feel like, well, another marathon. Even if you haven’t hit the wall, your body and mind are depleted at this point. You’re close to the end, but not close enough. This is the hardest part. The same goes for editing your novel. This is where the real work begins. There are a number of loose threads that feel like they may never come together. You’ve spent so much time with your idea that you begin to worry that it’s boring—at least you’re getting a little bored with it. And you still have to fix your character arc. This is the point where you must decide if you will continue. 

When you hit this stretch, either in running or writing, it’s time to “dig deep.” Runners often talk about “remembering your why,” the reason why you decided to run a marathon. This is equally important in novel writing. To commit to such a lofty goal, you must have a reason driving you. Do you have an important message to share with the world? Or a story that you just can’t let go? Tap into your why to keep you going. 

5.   Completing it is a rare and special accomplishment

So many people say they want to run a marathon or write a novel; so few actually achieve either. If you’ve completed a manuscript or gone the distance, you are exceptional! Even if it’s a bad experience, it’s still a cause for celebration. You’ve achieved a rare feat. 

Finishing my first marathon and my first novel made me want to cry happy, relieved, exhausted tears. At the same time, I wasn’t fully satisfied with my performance in either. 

That’s the thing: many people will be happy to cross the accomplishment off the bucket list—one and done. Then there are those of us for whom one is not enough. We finish and say, “I’m proud that I covered the miles or wrote that many pages, but I bet I can do it better. Let’s try it again.” 

I believe that’s the key to success in both marathoning and novel-writing. The insatiable desire to see how well you can do, and the determination to stick with the pursuit until you become better. Despite all the obstacles that may come up in your journey, if you master your mindset, prepare, resist shortcuts, remember your why, and you don’t settle, you can achieve your dreams. 

Heather Campbell is a book coach and editor helping writers cut through self-doubt and confusion to finally complete the novel they always dreamed of writing. When she’s not immersed in fiction, she’s running in the fresh mountain air of Colorado or snuggling with her rescue dog, Chase. Find out more at www.thewriterremedy.com and follow her on Twitter and Instagram!

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