Each week, I have conversations with people who claim to want to write a book. I listen carefully, not just to establish if I like an individual, which is necessary if I’m to take them on as a client; if I think the project would be interesting and teach me a thing or three; but also, if this nice enthusiast is likely to drive the work to completion.

Or not.

Sure, I could accept money thrown at me, do my best by someone for as long as I’m allowed, but I just hate it when someone quits because, true co-dependent that I am, I always wind up blaming myself. (Boundary issues are a bastard.)

So, why do people, after investing all that money, effort, and time, up and quit? What happens between the “OMG, I’ve got this amazing book idea, this burning drive to eat glass if I must…”  and the “Let’s take an indefinite hiatus…”?

True scientist that I am, thanks to that ancient chemistry degree, I’ve drawn some conclusions. But only after gathering sufficient data points.

Ok, ready for the most common reasons?

First, let’s get the acts of God out of the way:

1. The death of a parent or other loved one, which pretty much blows up life, not just creativity.
2. Sudden blindness (you think I’m kidding).
3. A life changing event that makes the original book idea seem irrelevant.

(Yes, if I could make blindness no BFD, this person would be a bestseller today!)

Second, we’ve got the whole bloom-is-off-the-rose scenario, which presents itself in different guises:

1. The discovery that muses and downloads from the Universe don’t exist (unless you’ve got access to psychedelics). (Again, you think I’m kidding)
2. A lack of appreciation for process and the abiding belief that one’s first draft should capture the essence.
3. The inability to tolerate uncertainty and inadequacy (see #2) for longer than 15 minutes.
4. The onset of Shiny Object Syndrome—oh, hey, I just came up with an even better idea for a book– which is usually played out in one’s business as well.
5. The onset of Imposter Syndrome (see #3) and a whole host of other fears.
6. The recognition that one might tell a great story, but it doesn’t even begin to translate on the page, which is not only shocking, but untenable.
7. The revelation that writing is time-intensive, despite what internet pundits claim.
8. The startling awareness that the act of thinking is laborious.
9. An unrealistic expectation of the writing timeline, particularly for more complicated genres. (see #7)
10. Second-guessing ROI.

I could go on, but you get my point.

By the way, the acts of God quitters? They’re 100% more likely to return to the task at hand after life calms down. Don’t ask me why.

Why am I telling you this?

Because writing involves a lot of drudgery and uncertainty. To produce anything worth reading takes effort. There’s a learning curve involved. If you’re used to being an expert, you will resist being a beginner. Sucking at something for a good long time is demoralizing. And it always takes longer than you think it should, which is hard, because people like us are used to making shit happen NOW.

And then, one day, it all clicks into place. And you not only finish your book, but you also become someone else. You become clear, concise, powerful, because you’ve done the work.

OK, gonna hop off my soap box and get to work. Hope this helps.