(Even If You Feel Stuck)
You know that scene in the movie where a writer suddenly finds their groove? The music swells, fingers fly over the keyboard, and a whole novel spills out in one coffee-fueled sitting? Yeah. This probably isn’t that scene.
If you’re here, I’m guessing you haven’t exactly had that magic moment yet. Or maybe you did once, but it ghosted you somewhere between “Chapter One” and “What am I doing?”
Here’s the first thing you need to know:
You’re not broken. You’re not lazy. You’re not alone.
Starting a book is hard. Like capital-H Hard. Plenty of smart, creative, deeply capable humans sit in the “thinking about writing a book” stage for years. Not because they’re not cut out for it—but because starting is scary.
So let’s talk about why it feels impossible, and how you can sneak past that stuck feeling without turning into some perfectly productive writing robot.
Why Starting Feels So Hard
Before we talk about how to start, let’s name what’s getting in the way. Maybe:
- You don’t know where to begin
- You’re afraid it won’t be good
- You feel overwhelmed just thinking about how long it might take
- You’re not sure your idea is even “book-worthy”
- You’re already comparing yourself to people who’ve finished theirs
None of that makes you a bad writer. Those thoughts are just evidence that you care. You want to do this well. But that pressure? It can shut you down before you even begin.
The good news? You don’t need to feel confident to get started. You just need to move.
Step One: Lower the Bar (No, Lower)
This might sound weird, but the best thing you can do right now is expect less from yourself.
Forget perfection: no outline, playlist, or book-shaped aesthetic required — and you don’t even need a polished idea. Start small. You don’t need a perfect outline.
You just need to start small. Start messy. Start badly.
Try one of these:
- Write a single, terrible paragraph
- Dump your idea into a Google Doc without editing
- Jot down a scene on the back of a grocery list
- Text yourself one sentence that might belong somewhere
The goal isn’t to be brilliant. It’s to be in motion.
Step Two: Pick a Tiny Goal That You Can Actually Hit
“Write a book” is a noble goal. But it’s also enormous and vague and wildly intimidating.
So let’s shrink it. Start with something so tiny it’s almost ridiculous:
- 100 words a day
- 10 minutes with your butt in the chair
- One sentence a day for a week
That’s it. No plot spreadsheets. No 5AM bootcamps. Just one small promise to yourself. One that you can actually keep.
Because progress is addictive. And momentum? Way more powerful than motivation.
Step Three: Quit Waiting for the Perfect Time
You’re not going to wake up next Tuesday with a totally clear schedule and a full tank of inspiration. That’s not a thing. Life is always going to be messy.
So stop waiting for the stars to align. Start now. Start in the chaos.
Write during your lunch break. On your phone at the grocery store. In the carpool line. In bed at midnight with a mouthguard in and your hair doing something questionable.
Books get written in the margins of real life. Yours will too.
Step Four: Start Wherever You Want
You do not have to start at the beginning.
Have a scene in your head? Write it. Know the ending? Write that. Only a line of dialogue, a mood, or a title? That is enough.
Start with the part that has energy. You can piece it together later.
Step Five: Make It a Habit (Not a Hustle)
This isn’t a sprint. It’s not NaNoWriMo. You don’t need to crush 2,000 words a day.
Try showing up at the same time each day for a week. Ten minutes. That’s all. Schedule it like a meeting you can’t miss. Or like that one dentist appointment you keep rescheduling but actually go to eventually.
This is how writers get books done. Not with perfect discipline, but with little, consistent check-ins. If you need more encouragement on building momentum, check out Writing when you’re not sure anyone will care — it’s all about pushing through those “why bother?” days.
Step Six: Create a Writing Ritual (Even a Weird One)
Your brain loves patterns. So let it know when it’s time to write.
Pick a ritual. Light a candle. Make tea. Put on the same playlist. Sit in your favorite chair. Wear your “lucky” hoodie that smells like hope and stale coffee.
Whatever works. Just do it regularly. The more your brain associates that ritual with writing, the easier it’ll be to shift into gear.
Step Seven: Muzzle Your Inner Critic
You know that voice that says this is dumb and no one will read it and you’re wasting your time? Yeah. That voice is not helpful.
It shows up for every writer. Even the published ones. Especially the published ones.
So let it talk. Then keep writing anyway.
Try this: write a little permission slip at the top of your document. Something like:
“This draft is allowed to be a mess. I am allowed to figure it out as I go. Judgment can wait.”
Then when the critic pipes up again, thank it for its input—and move on.
Step Eight: Find Other People Who Get It
Writing can feel like shouting into the void. But you are not the only one trying to wrangle your story into existence.
Find your people. They’re out there.
Join a writing group. Lurk on a hashtag. Post a “tell me I’m not alone” meme. Whatever helps you feel a little less like a weirdo in the woods with a laptop and a dream.
This stuff is hard. You don’t have to do it alone.
Step Nine: Love the Ugly Draft
Let’s be real. Your first draft is going to be weird. Characters will disappear mid-chapter. Names will change three times. Some scenes will be brilliant. Others will read like a bot wrote them on a dare.
Good.
That’s exactly how it’s supposed to be.
You’re not writing the final book. You’re writing the version that lets you make the final book. Big difference.
So let it be ugly. Let it be scrappy. Let it be real. You’ll clean it up later. Promise.
Step Ten: Remember Why You Started
When things get hard—and they will—ask yourself this:
Why this book? Why now?
Maybe you want to tell a story that’s haunted you for years, make someone laugh, or simply prove to yourself that you can.
Write your “why” down. Tape it to your laptop. Make it your phone background. Return to it when you feel lost. Let it carry you forward.
Bonus: What Being “Stuck” Is Not
You are not stuck just because:
- You’re not inspired every single day
- You skipped writing yesterday
- You only have ten minutes this week
- You don’t know how it ends yet
That’s not stuck. That’s writing.
A Few Prompts to Nudge You
Still can’t find your entry point? Try one of these:
- “The first time they met, she was holding a shovel.”
- “He never meant to open the letter, but once he did…”
- “It wasn’t until the third missed call that she knew something was wrong.”
You don’t have to keep what you write. You just have to start.
Final Thoughts: Starting Is the Win
You don’t need your act together, the perfect idea, or 3,000 words before sunrise.
You just need to begin.
Write the weird scene. Jot the awkward sentence. Open a doc and fill it with nonsense. Hit one small milestone and throw yourself a party like you just hit the NYT list.
Because starting your book—even just starting—is a win.
And the story inside you? Yeah. It’s worth telling.
We’re in your corner.
You might also enjoy:
Do you need an outline? Plotting vs. pantsing
Setting realistic writing goals (that don’t kill your soul)