Hi writers!
Welcome to Episode 65 of Your Words Unleashed Podcast.
Today I am going to address a very controversial topic, and it is when it’s okay to quit writing your book.
The reason I’m inspired to do this episode today is that I’m going through a period of letting go of a lot of things.
I’m dealing with some health-related issues that are requiring me to pull back from the intense work pace I maintained over the summer.
I have pushed myself very hard over the past few years to build what I have now, which is a successful, sustainable coaching business.
I feel very purposeful in my work and am incredibly grateful for the many wonderful clients I’m helping to make huge strides forward in their writing and in their careers.
At the same time, it’s also been a lot for my body to handle.
And even though my workload and stress level are so much lower than when I was an academic, it’s been increasingly apparent that I need to find more ease and spaciousness in my life by cutting back.
But I’m also giving my attention to the things that make me feel most alive and that are the most compelling to me on a soul level.
Which is why today I want to tackle a topic that I’ve never heard anyone talk about openly before of giving yourself permission to quit writing your scholarly book.
This is something that I think never gets openly discussed because it is so associated with shame, embarrassment, and personal failure.
Yet, it’s also something that many—if not most—book writers wrestle with at some point.
It’s something I have actually done myself, as I will talk about in a minute.
And it’s definitely something that a portion of my own clients are wrestling with it right now.
Writing a book is often seen as the pinnacle of our intellectual contributions. But sometimes, continuing the journey just doesn’t make sense anymore.
Whether you’re working on your first monograph, an edited volume, or a long-overdue passion project, it’s important to acknowledge that not all writing projects are meant to be finished.
In today’s episode, I want to share three reasons why it might actually be okay—even wise—to stop writing your book.
So if you’ve been feeling weighed down by that looming manuscript, keep listening!
Reframing Quitting as a Positive Thing
So before I get to those, I want to disentangle quitting from failure.
In case you don’t know, one of my core values is transparency.
Because of that, I like to bring certain things that are considered highly taboo in the world of academia out into the light and to un-shame them.
And one of those things is the idea of quitting.
There’s a popular quote that I’ve seen floating around which says, “When you get tired, learn to rest, not to quit.”
I’m all about rest, don’t get me wrong! I’m doing more and more of it these days.
The problem is that you can’t paint quitting with such a broad brush.
There are times in life when you need to let go of a goal or a relationship or a job because it’s not aligned with your values.
Or at least it isn’t anymore.
Context matters!
I personally believe that people should give themselves permission to stop doing things that go against their integrity or are causing a great deal of harm to themselves or others.
When I left academia, I often told people that I “resigned” from my faculty position, when the truth is that I quit.
I quit a toxic work culture and an unsupportive workplace that was negatively affecting my health.
I was also drawn to another career path that was far more compelling to my soul than what I was leaving behind.
And I’ve never been more professionally fulfilled! So should that be seen as giving up?
Some academics in my network feel that way, and hence, we are no longer in touch and that is par for the course.
But, apropos to this episode, and something I’ve never spoken about publicly before is that I also quit working on a big book project last year.
If you’ve listened to the earliest episodes of this podcast, I talked a lot about how I was working on my third book.
It was meant to be a crossover book, a coaching guide to help scholars decide whether they wanted to leave the academy.
It was also supposed to help them negotiate their identity crisis and conflicting emotions around this massive career and life transformation.
How this book idea even came to pass was that I was put in touch with an acquisitions editor at a prestigious university press when I was still in my faculty position.
They asked me to pitch a book idea, and this was one that I had been toying around with for fun but didn’t plan to write for at least several more years.
But they were excited about the idea and asked me for a proposal.
And, like any good workaholic with no boundaries around work at that time, I dove right into the project just as I decided to quit my job and become a full-time writing and career coach.
I was still in the mindset of overperforming and did a huge amount of work on the proposal.
I conducted nearly 40 in-depth interviews with transitioning academics and gathered nearly 30 online survey responses. I coded all of this data.
With the help of my amazing developmental editor Jenny Gavacs, who I interviewed on Episode #59 of this podcast, I put together what I consider to be a really kick-ass 10-paged single-spaced proposal.
I also wrote most of an introduction chapter and had a very good sense of what was going to go into the rest of the chapters.
But I was literally burning the candle at both ends to do this project while trying to build my business.
I gave the editor the proposal, which sent my proposal out for review.
Unlike scholarly books, a proposal is often all you need to get a contract with a crossover book.
For me, this is where things completely shifted.
The proposal was reviewed by four people, only two of whom fit the target demographic of the book. Both of those folks reviewed it pretty positively.
The other two included a faculty member and a high-level administrator at elite universities, both of whom tore the project apart.
In a nutshell, their reviews were a combination of defensive and hypercritical.
These were clearly the kind of people who bristle when anyone talks about leaving academia.
It was obvious that they both viewed higher ed as an all-encompassing calling rather than as a job—a belief that I’ve openly critiqued as being highly problematic and a gateway to exploitation of workers.
My book touched an emotional nerve with them, and one of the reviews literally felt like I was being yelled at.
Because they were written by the exact opposite of my intended readership, I couldn’t see a way to overcome their objections.
On top of that, the acquisitions editor did not provide any guidance on how to address them and didn’t even suggest setting up a meeting to discuss them.
And if there’s one thing I’ve learned you need when publishing a book—it’s your editor to be staunchly supportive and willing to go to bat for you.
This editor’s lukewarm response, on top of the fact that I had no specific professional reason to write the book, made me realize that it was an uphill battle I wasn’t willing to fight.
So I decided to do something radical. I did not succumb to the sunk-cost fallacy and I chose to stop working on it altogether.
Because I realized that my quality of life would be so much better if I took that off my plate.
I decided to revisit the idea in six months and see how I felt. When that six-month period passed, I still didn’t want to return to the project and so I never did.
Of course, I informed the press right away about my decision to step back from the book, and they were fine with it.
To be honest, that editor never checked in with me to see if I had changed my mind, which just shows where they stood on the project.
And I have to say, this was one of the best decisions I could have made because since then, the market has become flooded with coaches who specialize in helping people leave the academy.
I think this is great, but it wasn’t what I was intending to do full-time.
All of this is to say that in my view, quitting something because it will make you happier, healthier and more aligned with your values always equals success.
3 Times When It’s Okay to Quit Writing Your Book
So let’s get to these three times when it’s okay to quit your book.
It’s important for me to first give the caveat that you’ve already tried everything in your power to get this thing done.
This means, you’ve tried co-writing and accountability groups, you’ve shared your work with others and received feedback, you’ve discussed this at length with the important people in your life—potentially even a therapist or a writing coach.
In short, you’ve been proactive about getting help and support, and that has not been enough for this project to feel really aligned with your purpose.
1) It’s harming your mental health, well-being, and personal relationships.
So let’s get on with it. The first time to consider quitting writing your book is when it’s harming your mental health, well-being, and personal relationships.
Even the most social of authors can find book writing to be an intensely lonely, isolating process.
And when a project stretches on for many years, it can start to take a toll on all aspects of your life and health.
You might be constantly stressed, anxious, or even depressed because of your book.
Worse yet, the strain of trying to balance your personal life with writing may be negatively affecting your relationships with friends or family.
If this sounds familiar, I want you to pause and consider: Is writing this book worth it to my life?
Many people believe that they need to suffer through this process.
I certainly did when I was writing my first book. But I was also single with no kids, so it didn’t feel like I was sacrificing as much as if I were trying to write it now.
But let me tell you that no project is worth sacrificing your health or relationships.
If you have chronic insomnia, if you’re constantly anxious about writing, or if you find yourself not being available to your partner, children, or friends AND there’s no end in sight, those are signs that your book might be doing more harm than good.
When you decide to prioritize your well-being, it doesn’t mean you’ve failed.
In fact, it could be one of the most empowering decisions you make in your academic career.
2) You don’t have BOTH internal AND external reasons to write your book.
Okay, the second time is when you don’t have BOTH internal and external reasons to write your book.
You really need to have a mixture of both to see the entire thing through.
In terms of external reasons, the folks I know whose only motivation for writing a book is to get tenure or reach full professor tend to have a very hard time being consistent and finishing.
Book projects often start out as passionate, deeply personal endeavors. But sometimes, this shifts.
You probably began your project because it truly excited you. But maybe you were a grad student and a decade has passed since then.
Somewhere along the way, it may have become far more about meeting external expectations.
Of course, getting promoted is a huge motivation. But this is often not enough to fan the consistent flame that’s you need to get through writing six to eight full, cohesive chapters.
If you don’t maintain an intrinsic personal connection to the work, it will undoubtedly feel like a heavy burden and potentially a waste of your intellectual energy.
And the same is true for having only internal reasons for wanting to write your book.
Like I just talked about in my own case, my third book was largely something I was doing out of my own genuine interest in the topic.
But it was competing with the time I needed to be putting towards my business, my health, and my relationships.
I’ve also known a lot of people who have incredible insights and ideas about cool topics that would make great books.
But, writing their book really wouldn’t really do much for their careers. This is why I’ve found that it’s harder for folks in STEM fields to finish their books.
When you have so many other things to juggle, even the most compelling book idea will probably take a backseat.
And that is okay. You can pick it back up if and when you have more time and space for it.
3) Your topic is no longer timely
And now I get to the final reason, which is that your topic is no longer timely.
In other words, the field has moved on.
As we all know, scholarship doesn’t stand still. That’s why people are so scared of getting scooped, right?
If you’ve been working on a book for many years, it’s possible that the foundational ideas or theories you started with are longer as relevant or urgent.
Maybe you began writing your book five years ago on a niche topic. At the time, it was cutting-edge and innovative.
But as you’ve worked on it, other studies may have been published that address a lot of what you planned to write.
Rather than seeing this as your failure, you can consider it as an opportunity to change course.
By stepping back from your book, you can pivot to focusing on ideas that feel exciting to you.
You might be able to take some of the chapters from your current project and rework them into articles or shorter publications.
Even if your book doesn’t get published in its entirety, much of it can get out into the world in other ways.
Summing Things Up
Let’s sum everything up.
I gave three times when it’s okay to quit writing your book **after you’ve tried everything possible to get it done.**
These are:
- When it’s harming your mental health, well-being and relationships.
- When you don’t have both internal and external reasons to write your book.
- When your topic is no longer timely.
My larger point in doing this episode is that knowing when to quit something is an important skill that we don’t talk about nearly enough in academia.
Remember that quitting and failing are two separate things.
Holding onto a project that no longer serves you—or your career—can actually set you back more than walking away.
By letting go, you create space for new ideas, new projects, and new energy.
And not all is lost!
I told you how I let go of my book project that was originally intended to help scholars leave the academy.
What I’ve done instead is to create a career coaching program that I launched a few months ago called the Career Reset.
Although it’s not specifically focused on helping people leave the academy, it is one option I provide. And I have clients coming to me for that.
So I’m essentially putting all the work I expended on my unfinished book to good use.
You too would likely be able to repurpose a lot of your efforts in new projects that are hopefully even more personally fulfilling.
So, if any of what I’ve said today resonates with you, give yourself permission to assess whether your book project is still serving you and your life.
Is it something you truly want to finish—and have both internal and external reasons to do so—or is it time to cut your losses?
Is it truly worth the sacrifice?
You might fit all of the scenarios I just gave and decide that it still is, and that is great.
You can also do what I did and give yourself a set time frame to not work on it and to not feel guilty about not working on it.
Then you can reassess how you feel more objectively a few months later.
Remember, the best decisions are the ones that help you move forward rather than keep you stuck.
I hope this episode helps you find some clarity and peace, regardless of what you choose.
I’m here for you either way!
Take care until next time.
