I just finished the first draft of my second book. It took 7 months. The final word count was about 87,000 words. That averages out to about 410 words per day. But that’s not the reality.
The reality is half my book was written across 7 very productive weeks, and half my book was written across 5 very unproductive months. Here’s what I learned.
Find The Process
Last week I wrote a post about my writing process. On days I wrote, I always hit my wordcount goal of 1,200 words. But for a long time, getting my butt in the chair and focussing enough to work proved impossible. Then I started pre-writing with a pen and paper, and I put a time on my phone each day for writing and everything got easier.
From the moment I found my process, my average word-count per week shot up to 6,000. About 5.5 days per week on and off. If I had hit that number from the start, the book would have been done in 2 and a half months.
Momentum is Everything
Forming a consistent rhythm is hard. And sometimes life forces us to make exceptions. Here’s what I’ve learned about myself.
If I take a one day break from writing, I can get back to writing the next day without any issue.
If I take a two day break, I get kinda anxious and starting again becomes a challenge.
After three days, the momentum is gone, and I have to start cold.
The next time I’m writing the first draft of a book, I plan on allocating three dedicated months, with only brief weekend retreats to break things up. Once the habit is formed, it’s harder to break it than to fulfill it. But if I give myself too many excuses, too many easy outs, the habit dies before it’s formed.
Love (With Your Novel) is Fleeting
It’s easy to fall in love with a book. It’s much harder to stay in love. You can only work on the same task for so long before you start to hate it. A terrible kind of insecurity bubbles up, a voice in your ear whispers that your story is terrible.
About 3 months into my drafting, I stopped loving my book. Worse, I stopped liking it. And once that happened, getting words on the page was almost impossible.
The good news is: It’s fixable. It took a little wine and dining, but with the right attitude and a careful approach, I was able to rediscover my passion at least twice while getting the thing written.
The process was pretty simple, when I had been away from my book for a couple weeks and the spark was gone, I’d revisit the book the way I had at the start. Begin by visualizing the world, the aesthetics, the look and wonder of the story. The joy of the concept rather than the pain of the details. Then I’d see my characters, the protagonist with all their flaws, and everything they were trying to do. But it was more than seeing them, it was seeing what was still in store for them. I’d have a third of a book written, and I’d be able to look into the future and know what was still on its way. The end of the arc, still not on the page. My love would reignite, I had seen everything I loved about the story and everything that was still in store. It’s the reason I’m telling the story, the idea that bubbles in my stomach and warms my heart.
Too Much Buildup is Bad for The Writer
Ideas are made to be spent. Once they come into your brain, they fill a space of it until the day you get them onto the page. Worse, a great idea likes to return again and again, occupying most of your thoughts as you imagine the same scene from a hundred different angles.
The trouble with all that thinking is the buildup. At the end of the day, you only get to tell the story one way. And what does that mean for all those other perspectives? They’re tossed in the bin. Maybe I get to pull an idea or two along the way, but most of it is just wasted brainspace.
My brain knows it’s wasted work, and it hates it.
If I love a scene too much, my brain does everything in its power to keep me from writing it. To write is to commit, it takes the infinite possibility and beauty of a concept and turns it into concrete words.
For me, the best thing I can do with a scene I love is get through it as soon as possible. Keep the reimaginings low, keep the ways to spruce things up limited, and let the scene be like you saw it for the first time in your head, even when sometimes it’s just two characters chatting in a garage. It’s much easier to edit a poorly written chapter than fill a blank page.
The Outline is Key
My outline was my most important ingredient, it turned the impossible journey of 100,000 words into a bunch of 1,200 word slices. When I lost momentum, I put a list on the wall, a series of individual scenes pulled from my outline. With each scene written, I’d cross it off and move onto the next. It meant all I really needed to think about was what was directly ahead, not the entire maw that is the rest of the novel. With this book, the further the outline got into the story, the looser it described the events. That hurt me a lot. The less detail I determined early, the more work I had on the day.
New Rules
For me, seven months is too long to write a draft. The longer it takes to write, the more complications crop up along the way. My dream is to draft in 3-4 months. Less than that isn’t possible unless I start increasing my daily word count goals, and I’d rather consistently hit the daily goals I have now than risk pushing myself too hard and lose months from burnout. So, with all that in mind, I’ve set myself a few new rules:
- From the moment I start my draft, the next three months can have no major trips, just the occasional weekend getaway.
- If I miss 1 day of writing, I have to do everything in my power to make sure I hit my goal the next day.
- Once a scene is imagined, it doesn’t get revisited until the day I write it. No over-engineering here.
- Outline early, and outline thoroughly.
Hopefully in the near future I’ll be hitting my goal of 2 books a year.
DEBUT NOVEL NOW AVAILABLE FOR PRE-ORDER! (Not the story described in this article):
The Human Countermove is now available for pre-order! https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0FM9R7T5F
In a nation ruled by AI Minds, productivity is everything—even play.
Once a legend in the world of strategy games, Zouk Solinsen is now just another burnout in a society obsessed with efficiency. But when the Minds announce a high-stakes tournament—with a seat on the ruling council as the prize—Zouk is drawn back into the fray, determined to reshape the future.
With help from the enigmatic Torrez Institute, Zouk racks up early victories against the Minds. But when Maya Torrez reveals the cost of her support—a violent coup against the Minds—he rejects it and strikes out alone.
Now, with no allies, dwindling resources, and a nation on the brink, Zouk faces the biggest game of his life—and a final, impossible choice: reform the system from within, or burn it all down.

