When you wanna quit (but you’re not done yet)
Week 3 support for Novel November writers.
Welcome to week three.
This is the week that breaks people.
Not because the writing gets harder. Or because the word count goal becomes impossible. Not even because of some external obstacle that shows up out of nowhere. (Shit happens sometimes.)
Week three breaks people because this is when the truth becomes undeniable: you’re tired, the initial excitement is dead and the finish line is still too far away to pull you forward.
The honeymoon phase of Novel November is over. You’re in the long middle now. The part where motivation can’t fully carry you anymore and you have to show up on discipline alone.
And discipline is exhausting when you’re already tired.
So let’s talk about what’s really happening in week three and how to tell the difference between “I need rest” and “I need to stop.”
Why Week Three Breaks People
You started November with the ace of wands — fire. New project energy. The thrill of a challenge. The promise of 50k words in 30 days.
That carried you through week one easily. Week two may have been a bit harder but you were still riding some of that momentum.
Now it’s week three and you’ve hit the wall. That fire is starting to burn out.
The excitement is gone. Writing feels like a chore instead of an adventure. You’re not discovering exciting new scenes anymore. You’re grinding through the messy middle where everything feels muddy and unclear.
The finish line isn’t motivating right now. You’re not close enough to the end to feel that final sprint energy. November 30 is still two weeks away. That might as well be forever when you’re exhausted.
You’re legit tired. Not metaphorically or figuratively like some people may claim. But physically. Mentally. Creatively. Two weeks of sustained output takes a toll. Your body needs rest. Your brain needs space. Your creative well needs refilling.
The story feels like a mess. Of course it does. You’ve been discovery drafting at high speed. You haven’t had time to step back and see the whole picture. You’re too close to it. Everything looks broken when you’re this deep in it.
This is normal. This is expected. This is the actual challenge of Novel November.
The word count goal is arbitrary. The real test is whether you can keep showing up when it stops being fun.
The Two Questions That Matter
When week three hits and you want to quit, you need to figure out what kind of tired you’re dealing with.
Because there are two different types of tired. And they require opposite responses.
Question 1: Am I Tired or Am I Done?
Tired means: You still care about this story. You still want to know what happens to these characters. You’re just exhausted from the pace and need rest.
When you think about abandoning this draft, you feel sad. Disappointed. Like you’d be letting yourself down or giving up on something that matters.
That’s tired. That’s your body saying “I need a break” not “I need to quit.”
Done means: You genuinely don’t care what happens next. These characters don’t interest you anymore. The story feels hollow. When you think about stopping, you feel relief.
That’s done. That’s your intuition saying “this isn’t the story I thought it was” or “this isn’t worth the energy I’m spending on it.”
How to tell the difference:
Close your eyes. Imagine it’s December 1.
Scenario A: You abandoned your draft halfway through November. How do you feel? Relieved? Or regretful?
Scenario B: You pushed through and finished a messy 50k-word draft. How do you feel? Proud? Or resentful that you wasted time on something you didn’t care about?
Your gut knows the answer. Your body will tell you if you ask it.
If thinking about quitting makes you sad, you’re just tired. Rest and keep going.
If thinking about quitting makes you relieved, you might actually be done. And that’s okay too.
Question 2: Is This Resistance or Is This Wrong?
This is trickier because resistance and genuine misalignment can feel similar.
Resistance means: You’re scared of the next scene. You don’t know how to write it well. You’re afraid it won’t work. So your brain is creating reasons to stop before you have to face that hard moment.
Resistance feels like avoidance. Like procrastination. Like suddenly every other task becomes more urgent than writing this scene.
When you push through resistance and write the scary scene anyway, you usually discover it wasn’t as hard as you thought. And you feel satisfied afterward, even if the writing is rough.
Wrong means: Your gut is telling you this story doesn’t work. Not that this scene is hard, but that the whole premise is off. You’re trying to force something that isn’t true to the story.
Wrong feels like pushing a boulder uphill. Like you’re working against the natural flow of the narrative. Like you’re trying to make the characters do things they wouldn’t actually do.
When you push through “wrong” and force yourself to write it anyway, you feel worse afterward. Drained. Frustrated. Disconnected from your work.
How to tell the difference:
Ask yourself: Am I avoiding one specific difficult moment? Or does the entire story feel misaligned?
If it’s one scene - that’s resistance. Write it badly. Skip it and come back. Do whatever you need to do to get past it.
If it’s the whole story - that might be wrong. And you might need to listen to that.
If You’re Just Tired: Strategies for Pushing Through
Let’s say you’ve asked yourself these questions and the answer is clear: you’re tired, not done. You care about this story. You just need help making it through week three.
Here’s how.
Lower Your Daily Word Count
You don’t have to write 1,667 words every day.
You can write 1,000 words a day and still hit 50k by month’s end if you write every day. You can write 1,200 words a day and have some cushion for days you don’t write at all.
The daily goal is arbitrary. What matters is forward momentum.
If you’re exhausted and 1,667 feels impossible, aim for 800. Or 500. Or 300. Who’s gonna check you? The Novel November police? They don’t exist.
Something is always better than nothing. And 300 words of actual progress beats zero words because you were too overwhelmed to start.
Permission granted: Adjust your daily goal to something sustainable. You’re not failing. You’re adapting.
Write the Scenes You’re Excited About
Skip the boring parts.
Seriously. If you’re dreading the next scene in your outline, don’t write it. Write the scene three chapters ahead that you’re actually excited about.
You’re discovery drafting. The whole point is to follow what has energy. If a scene feels dead before you even write it, it’s probably dead to your reader too.
Write what lights you up right now. You can fill in the connective tissue later. Or you might discover those “necessary” scenes weren’t really necessary at all.
Permission granted: Follow your energy, not your outline. Write what wants to be written.
Talk to Someone About Your Story
Not for feedback. Not for critique. Just to remember why you care.
Call a friend. Voice text someone. Chat to me in the comments. Talk out loud to yourself if you have to.
Tell them about your main character. What they want. What’s in their way. Why you’re writing this story.
Sometimes you just need to hear yourself talk about the work to reconnect with why it matters. To remember that underneath the exhaustion, there’s something here worth finishing.
Permission granted: You don’t have to do this alone. Connection can reignite your fire.
Remember: Messy Drafts Are THE POINT
You’re not writing a publishable novel in November. You’re writing a messy, imperfect, alive-first draft that contains the bones of your story.
Every published book you’ve ever read went through this phase. The messy middle. The moment where the author wanted to quit. The draft that felt like it would never come together.
They all pushed through. They finished the messy draft. Then they revised it into something beautiful.
You’re not behind. You’re not doing it wrong. You’re exactly where you’re supposed to be: in the uncomfortable middle of creation.
Permission granted: Stop judging your rough draft against published books. That’s not a fair comparison.
If You’re Actually Done: Permission to Pivot
Now let’s talk about the other scenario.
You’ve asked yourself the questions. You’ve sat with it. And the answer is clear: you’re done with this story. Not tired. Done.
Maybe you started with the wrong premise. Maybe these characters aren’t who you thought they were. Maybe the story revealed itself to be something different than what you wanted to write.
That’s not failure. That’s information. Use it.
You have three options:
Option 1: Pivot to a Different Story
Yes, you can start a new project in the middle of November. I’ve seen people do this successfully.
Count the words you’ve already written toward your 50k-word goal. They still happened. They still count as creative output.
Then start fresh with something that has your energy. You might be surprised how fast the words come when you’re writing something you actually care about.
Option 2: Reimagine This Story
Maybe the story isn’t wrong. Maybe it’s your approach that’s wrong.
What if you told it from a different character’s perspective? What if you changed the genre? What if you rewrote the premise to reflect what the story truly wants to be instead of what you planned?
You can keep the bones of what you’ve written and shift the direction. That’s not cheating. That’s creative problem-solving. A skill many writers need to learn.
Option 3: Walk Away Completely
Sometimes the bravest thing is to stop.
Not because you failed. Not because you’re weak. But because you’ve learned something valuable: this story doesn’t serve you right now.
Maybe you’ll come back to it later with fresh eyes. Maybe you won’t. Either way, you spent two weeks learning what doesn’t work. That’s not wasted time. That’s part of the process.
The truth: Finishing isn’t always the goal. Discovering what you DON’T want to write is just as valuable as discovering what you do.
A note about this challenge in general:
Novel November is a wonderful experience. And I think every writer should try fast drafting at least once. But it would be remiss of me not to keep it real: the writing world can make this challenge toxic as hell.
People shame those who don’t finish. They treat 50k words like some sacred threshold that separates “real” writers from failures. They turn what should be a supportive creative container into a competition where anything less than complete victory is worthless.
That’s bullshit.
The goal isn’t finishing with exactly 50k words. The goal is discovery. Making progress. Learning what your story actually is. Finding out what works and what doesn’t in a defined container with community support.
If you write 30k words and discover your premise needs to change, that’s still success. You learned something crucial about your story.
If you write 15k words and realize this isn’t the project you want to spend your energy on right now, that’s not quitting. That’s honoring your creative truth. There are a lot of writers who don’t honor their creative truth. No shade, but it’s true.
If you write 50k words and half of them are garbage you’ll delete in revision, you still did it right. That’s exactly what rough drafts are for.
The number is arbitrary. The discovery is what matters.
So if you decide to pivot, walk away or finish with 40k words instead of 50k, you haven’t failed this challenge. You’ve used it exactly as it’s meant to be used: as a container for creative exploration.
Don’t let anyone shame you for that. Including yourself.
Self-Care: When Your Body Says Stop
Your body will tell you when to rest. The question is whether you’re listening.
Before you write: Ask your body what it needs today. Not what you think it should need. What it actually needs.
Does it need gentle movement before you sit down to write? Does it need food first? Does it need ten minutes of complete stillness?
Honor what comes up. Your body knows.
During writing: Notice when you hit your actual limit. Not your imaginary limit (the one saying you should be able to write for three hours). Your real limit.
Maybe you can only focus for 45 minutes today. That’s your limit. Write for 45 minutes, then stop.
Pushing past your body’s real limits doesn’t make you disciplined. It makes you depleted.
After writing: Celebrate what you did, not what you didn’t do.
You wrote 400 words instead of 1,667? You still wrote 400 words that didn’t exist before.
You only worked for 30 minutes instead of two hours? You still showed up for 30 minutes.
Progress is progress. Stop measuring yourself against an imaginary standard.
Rest days are allowed. Yes, even during November. Especially during November.
If your body is screaming for rest and you keep pushing, you’ll burn out completely. Then you won’t finish anyway.
One rest day now might save you from three lost days later. That’s not slacking off. That’s strategy.
The practice: Check in with your body before, during and after writing. Trust what it tells you. Adjust accordingly.
The Truth About Week Three
This week is hard because it’s supposed to be hard.
You’re doing something ambitious. You’re creating at a pace that pushes your limits. You’re discovering your story while simultaneously trying to get it on the page.
That’s exhausting work. Of course you’re tired.
But you’re also capable. Two things can in fact be true at the same time.
You’ve already written x-number of words. You’ve shown up every day even when it wasn’t fun. You’ve pushed through resistance and doubt and comparison. I’m reading your comments and reflections and seeing it all.
Week three doesn’t break you because you’re not strong enough. Week three breaks people who stop believing they can finish.
Don’t stop believing. Not yet. Hold the line.
You’re closer than you think. Week four is going to feel different. The finish line will come into view. The final sprint energy will kick in. Knight of wands energy.
But you have to make it through week three to get there.
What’s Coming: Week 4
Next Sunday’s piece is about finishing imperfectly: why your ending doesn’t have to be perfect, how to pace the final week without burning out and what to do when you cross the finish line.
But first, focus on the now and get through this week.
So here’s my advice: Lower your expectations. Increase your self-care. Stop judging your rough draft. And keep showing up.
Even if you only write 200 words today. Even if you skip a day and rest. Even if all you do is stare at the page and eventually type one sentence.
Keep showing up.
You’re not done yet. And you’re closer than you think.
So… are you tired or are you done? Share in the comments. Sometimes naming it helps clarify the answer.
If you’re feeling like you need to pivot or your premise isn’t working:
Sometimes the story you planned isn’t the story that wants to be written. If you’re realizing your premise needs work or you’re considering a pivot to a different project, my Air Element workbooks can help you gain clarity before you keep drafting.
For fiction writers: 3-Level Story Concept Workbook - $37
Clarify what your story is actually about beyond plot events, develop your unique premise and find your thematic north star.
For nonfiction writers: 3-Level Content Clarity Workbook - $37
Define your central message, identify your unique angle and build the intellectual framework that organizes your content.
Air clarity now saves you months of revision later. If your gut is telling you something’s off with your premise, listen to that. These workbooks help you figure out what needs to shift.
Lakeisha, you are the writing fairy godmother I could have used when I bailed on NaNoWriMo twice. Now that we're in the messy, messy middle, the one thing that helps me push forward is knowing that I've done this before, so I can do it again. Your posts are super supportive and inspiring. Thank you. ❤️
i'm not writing a novel, but a lot of these have been helping me in my personal life...
thank you for that 💛