Goals and Habits

The great danger for most of us is not that our aim is too high and we miss it, but that it is too low and we reach it. —Michelangelo

This past year or so, I’ve been working to reactivate my moribund capacity to dream big. Bear witness: I’ve never given up on writing. I love writing. It brings me joy, it keeps me sane. I am myself when I write. I have stories and stories and stories – some of them not finished and some not particularly good – packed away.

But I long ago gave up on making money writing short stories or novels, what we used to call having a career in writing. I’m old enough to remember an era when novelists earned real advances. And if the halcyon days when F. Scott Fitzgerald could buy a mansion selling short fiction died with him, in the 1980s and 90s a story might still be worth the time it took to write it. However, I learned early on that this gold wasn’t intended to pan out, for a variety of reasons.

Other dreams died harder. When I started college, I envisioned late night discussion on art and literature, opportunities for creative collaborations, DIY theater and open mics in old warehouses and smoky bars. Aside from some rare moments, this life also didn’t manifest, also for a variety of reasons. Though tempted, I’ll resist oversharing. Life, bad choices, bad luck. That’s all it was really.

So I trimmed back. I shrank my dreams. But the funny thing about dreams is that they can never be too small. There will always be more to cut. The less space you make for them, the less they need. When you don’t ask for much, the world is very happy to accommodate. This is also true of lovers.

But it’s time for me to light a small fire under those dreams. Not the money dreams. I’m not mental. Ok, yes, I have an Oscar speech ready, but I’m not crazy. But the others? Good friendships and camaraderie with fellow writers, long talks about craft and story theory, creative team-ups, sharing my work, creating things in the real world? Those dreams are worth cultivating.

A year ago, I took a few baby steps towards that life I’d always envisioned. I wondered if I were too late, if the curtain had come down before I found my seat. But on the other hand, I’m a smart guy. I learn from mistakes. Not always quickly, but I work it out. I thought it was worth a shot.

So far, so good.

I’m having bigger dreams now. Not the big dreams of my youth, but bigger than I allowed myself even a few years ago. And the funny thing about dreams is that they can never be too big. There is always room to grow. The more space you give them, the more they need. The dreams I have today are modest, but I’m giving them their room and I’m confident they will expand.

And the greatest part? Every day when I sit down to write, I feel inspired. I’m ready. I’m anxious to get to work on whatever is next. I’m excited to meet with my writers group every month and – being greedy – am thinking about ways I can have more.

I’ve said before that I feel like I’m starting Act I at an age when I should be on Act III or IV. But also, I’m a bit wiser now, a lot more jealous of my time. I’m more focused. I have a stronger vision of myself, a lot less ego, and the rewards I’m chasing are internal. I appreciate this experience so much more. As a man once said, This is the best drink of water after the longest drought in my life.

We should all dream big. What dreams would inspire you to create something every day? What would you do if you spent your life creating at your highest level?

Think of your biggest creative dream – no matter how crazy – and how it would feel to commit to fulfilling it. What does your most outrageous and positive writing life look like? What would you be doing if you were living all-out?

If you were confident you could not fail, what would you do?

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As a highly-motivated goal setter and a usually reliable goal achiever, I’m always curious about whether and how other creative people set goals. I wish I could be one of those laissez-faire writers who wanders through their day being as creative as they feel like, for a few hours or not. Unfortunately, I have to work for my supper, so my opportunity time is reduced by half. If I allow a few hours to pass without being creative, the day is lost.

That’s not to say I don’t have bad days or skip days. Some days I feel burned out from work or don’t feel well, common afflictions I feel are beneath me, but alas. Occasional travel days and holidays like Christmas and Thanksgiving are also usually a wash. But on average, I spend a good amount of time writing every week; the exact number of hours per day may vary.

What other people say

In a post on Writers in the Storm, Jenny Hansen talked about her goals for 2026. Every year, the WITS bloggers choose a single word of intention for the year –such as Renew, Reset, or Joy – to act as their guiding star. I’ve tried that, but I never remember the word, so apparently this does not work for everyone. I suppose writing it down would help.

You’ve probably heard of SMART (Specific, Measurable, Achievable, Relevant, and Time-bound) goals. That approach can steer you in the right direction, but may be too structured for creative work. Writing a novel takes as long as it takes. However, it’s also good to be specific about your intentions and to ensure they are reasonably achievable.

I like setting enough goals that I have a roadmap for my year, with some wriggle room if I want to make a detour or if life gets in the way. This doesn’t work for everyone, but I need some structure or I find it difficult to decide what to do next. Worse, if I’m working only from a vague list, I will veer into busy work or research, or work on easy tasks rather than tackling something more meaningful, but difficult.

However, I add the wriggle room because I also need the space to play and the occasional time off. Also, when my deadlines are too strict, missing them feels like a bigger problem than it really is. There have been a few Januarys when I’ve missed some self-imposed deadlines and felt like I’d blown the whole year, when in reality A – I had 11 months to catch up and B – nobody cares.

In her post, Hansen also notes that most New Year’s resolutions fail for these same reasons. Goals are too vague, there’s no plan of action, and we have an all-or-nothing mindset that keeps us from continuing when we fall short.

In Atomic Habits, James Clear recommends starting small by picking one tiny, easily achievable goal – on par with making your bed every morning or drinking a glass of water at noon – and building forward. In his habit tracker app Atoms, Clear suggests defining the mindset you want to develop or end state you want to achieve, and view your actions as strategy. For example, you goal may be “Be more creative” and your strategy is “Write for one hour every morning before work.”

In her post, Hansen shares some insights she learned from a life coaching seminar: Our brains like solving problems as much or more than they like to-do lists. This is another way of saying it’s easy to get lost in the forest when we are looking at trees.  A long list of tasks may be more daunting than helpful, but remembering why you’re doing them may help keep you motivated.

As with Clear’s advice above, it’s helpful to define the end state you wish to achieve as you create your lists. “Post to Substack on Sunday night” is a useful task, but it you attach it to the end state of “Be more connected to my community”, the task may feel more meaningful and less like drudgery.

How I track goals

My two big picture goals for the year are finishing the next draft of my novel and keeping up with my blog. To keep track, I have a daily word count goal and I have a schedule of what I’m supposed to write and when. The word count is simply an estimate of how many words I think I need to finish the book and write 60-70 blog posts, divided by 365. The schedule reminds me that I can’t just tap out words, I have to actually finish chapters and posts. I also can’t jump to a new project when I feel stuck. I could, of course, but then I risk ending the year with a lot of words written, but nothing substantial to show for it.

The dual goals have other benefits. Hitting my word count goal gives me a pleasurable dopamine spike at the end of each writing session, even better if I exceed it. Checking off chapters and posts – usually on Saturday or Sunday – gives me a sense of accomplishment and forward motion at the end of the week, adding motivation and momentum for the start of the next week, which can be dreary.

It also helps to break down big goals into component pieces. The novel is easy, of course – chapters are excellent sub-goals. When I open a new chapter, I start by breaking down the scenes and beats, including any new character or setting descriptions. I like being able to jump around. If I don’t have any particular inspiration for an opening sentence or paragraph, I skip to set building or conversation, whatever gets me into my writing head space.

My blog goal is posting every Monday, so that breaks down easily as well. I also work better when I have an idea of what I’m going to write before I start, so I keep lists of topic ideas or series to run through. Sometimes topics get moved from one week to another, or bumped altogether if I’m not feeling it.

I don’t know how your brain works, but my brain loves checking items off a list. Seeing the word count roll and the check marks accumulate motivates me to jump onto the next piece of writing. And if I finish my novel or work ahead on my blog, I get to – not have to – start writing something new.

Your turn

Do you set goals this way? How do you keep track of your progress?

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I didn’t post my writing goals this past January, not because I didn’t have any, but because I wanted to focus on the journey of writing, rather than word counts and timekeeping and spreadsheets, though I did that too, behind the scenes. Also, my goals occasionally evolve during the year and – full disclosure – sometimes I simply blow them and start over.

Blogging. This year, I committed to posting on the blog twice per week, a reasonable compromise between posting daily and keeping my sanity. With the exception of last week’s  mini-break, I have posted on time every time, and usually have a few posts in the drafting stage well before it’s time to knuckle down and hit my deadline. There have been a few mornings I’ve finished posting five minutes before the post is scheduled to publish, but you don’t get extra cookies for finishing too early.

What I underestimated was my time commitment. My calendar shows I have exhausted my blog writing time for the entire year, and here we are in July. Yes, I keep track of my hours. When I have to do this for work, time tracking is a tedious bullshit chore that I resent terribly and forget to do for weeks on end. In my personal life, though, I love tracking my stats. Time allowance aside, I’ll keep posting, but I might not always post twice a week. I’m committed to posting weekly, more when I have time and something pithy to contribute.

On advice of experts, I also started a Substack, which mirrors what I post here. I’ve doubled my readership, which isn’t a high number, but that’s not nothing. I also started a monthly newsletter, and have published that on time every month, as well. I’m actually rather productive when I’m motivated and have a manageable schedule and my boss isn’t a dick.

Creative work. Conversely, I’m way low on my time allowance for non-blog creative writing. I won’t even comment on my number of creative writing hours per week, but it was much less than I planned for the year. I still have time to “catch up,” and even hitting my planned schedule won’t amount to a tremendous weekly average for the year.

Shockingly, I’m still hitting my word count goal – an average 500 a day, which can be 30 minutes or 2 hours of work, depending. I’m about a month ahead of where I should be mathematically, assuming I wrote exactly 500 words per day, no more or less. I’ve been on a good roll the last month or two and will likely hit my yearly word count goal sometime in October or November. Ideally, I’ll have 6 – 8 weeks to focus on editing without keeping track of my writing pace.

Finishing. The jury is still out, but with six months to go, I feel good about finishing my fantasy novel-in-progress and having a meaty outline/sloppy draft of the second. It is not impossible that I could finish both, but I’m not tempting fate. I think the second book will be easier to write, because I have a stronger plot foundation. I don’t expect Book 2 will need as much reorganizing and rewriting as Book 1. All the work I put into Book 1 has paid off as I’m planning Book 2 and I believe that will make the work go faster.

Community. I set a goal to get more connected with my writing friends and the community. You know that’s been an ongoing challenge. I had high hopes for A Writing Room, but the community there seems focused on poetry and memoir. The chat forum has lots of inspirational quotes and photos of tea, but not too much craft discussion. The critique board was not too active last I checked, which is a problem because members can’t post work to be critiqued until they review someone else’s work and if no one is posting, then… ?

Earlier this year, I started an online silent writing meetup with friends. We get together Wednesday evenings eastern and write together over Zoom. There aren’t many of us and a few have already dropped out, but I’m keeping it. I like having the appointment on my calendar and seeing a face or two while I write.

After Jane Friedman’s business workshop a few weeks ago, I corralled a bunch of the other writers into an informal networking group. We’ve met only once so far, but the group has settled on a semi-formal structure for future meetings, which will focus on the business side of writing. Nothing complicated: our blogs and websites, how we use social media, conferences worth attending. It’s a decent-sized group and everyone seems enthusiastic, so I have high hopes. Let’s say medium hopes. I have medium hopes but facing upwards!

Social media. A few weeks ago, I posted about my tech stack, mentioning some of the automation tools I use to share my blog posts to social media, and I’ve already stopped using them. Social media is such a freaking chore. I still post in a few places, but keeping up with it all is a huge time suck and it’s incredibly disheartening. My Facebook and Bluesky lists are nearly 100% writers or writer-adjacent people and nearly 100% of their posts are about…well, they’re not about writing, let’s leave it at that. I keep hearing that TikTok and Instagram are great for writers, and today I read that Pinterest is one writer’s secret sauce for selling books, and honestly, right now I’d like to go back in time to kick Al Gore right in his internets.

How’s your creative year going? Are you happy with your outcomes? Are you making any adjustments for the rest of the year?

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Can you stand one more post about writing resolutions for the New Year? I can’t promise this is the last one, but I do think I’m tapped out.

I wasn’t planning to write anything more about this, but I came across a relevant post from writing coach Jeff Goins. My favorites from his list (and my comments) include:

1. Measure activity, not results. Goins essentially frames this as a choice between writing for yourself and writing for your readers, and I agree with that. However, in the next year, I’m also going to measure the time I give myself to write, rather than the number of words I write.
2. Tell the truth. Write what scares you. Goins lists these separately, but they go together. I’ve tried to eschew the “writing as suffering” trope, but that doesn’t mean we should shy away from ugly or difficult topics. Instead of adopting Hemingwayesque vein-opening, imagine yourself bragging to friends about that amazing scar on your leg. Pretend you’re a preschooler showing someone the giant bug you just found or the ratty doll you’ve been carrying your whole life. Confess your ugly feelings. Admit that you have sometimes behaved in ways that were not a credit to your reputation. We’ve all been there. Readers can tell when you are writing from a place of authenticity, particularly about negative traits or bad choices, and they respect an honest writer.
3. Shut up. Fast from social media. Again, Goins lists these separately, but they’re related. Give yourself quiet time. Listen and pay attention to what’s going on around you. Take an internet break. I haven’t quite given up Facebook, but I post 90% less frequently than I used to and I deleted my Twitter account. This blog has become the majority of my social media time. Enjoy a week without social media or give yourself one day – 24 hours – each month to disengage. There are so many better uses of our time.
4. Break a rule. Break all of them, I say. The only one you can’t break is Will’s Rule #1, which is that you must write. Rule #2 – write joyfully and with purpose – is merely a suggestion. Write aimlessly and with a grudge, if you want. You do you.
5. Start a blog. Publish something. Meet other writers. Let’s lump all these under “community.” I’m approaching 400 days on the blog, and I’m quite proud of myself. I also dipped a toe into sharing some fiction here. After last Saturday’s post, I felt a lot braver about the idea of finding some online peers to trade critiques. It’s all about breaking the ice.

You can read the rest of Goins’ suggested resolutions here.

In some recent posts, I’ve talked about reducing my focus on numbers-based writing goals and instead shifting to time-based scheduling. In the past, I’ve used daily and weekly word count goals to get words on paper, but as my projects evolve from brainstorming to actual writing, that mindset started working against me. At this stage, getting words down isn’t as important as finding the right words and imbuing them with meaning. I need to work on character, setting, and the emotional arcs, which is fun, but don’t necessarily add to the word count. This year, my goal is to work a set number of hours per week, moving through the novel chapter by chapter, and allowing myself to be happy with whatever I finish. This is working so far.

Of note, I came across an anecdote that affirmed my thinking on this. The graphic above is a clip from Lynda Barry’s Syllabus, a course outline cum memoir, in which she shares the instructions and requirements for her creativity course while also relating what she learned from her years teaching it and from her students’ work.

As coursework, students were required to keep a daily journal of what they saw and heard and to doodle cartoons. Generally, Barry directed her students to spend no more than a few minutes on each task. Time limits ranged from 2 to 7 minutes, depending on the assignment. Her intention was to help them tap into their creative spontaneity. She wanted them to write the first things that popped into their heads and to draw loosely, without overthinking. She also assigned other tasks, like memory exercises and coloring from a coloring book.

Of course, as students will, many of them procrastinated on their assignments and rushed to complete them before class. While they might have finished a cartoon or coloring assignment in time, Barry noticed these students didn’t learn what they needed from the lesson. They were missing out on the time to create, the mindset that develops when you relax into a creative session, and the sense of play and accomplishment. They were writing and doodling to check a box, not to develop their observation and creative skills.

That was an important reminder for me this past week. When I set aside time to write, I enjoy the time I have, and if that means I draft a chapter, rearrange some scenes, or rewrite a few paragraphs, that’s find. I allow myself to sink into the work, without fretting over how many words are in this file or that chapter. I’m resisting the urge to calculate how quickly I could finish my novel if I wrote X words per day every day for a few months. That’s not the point and it’s not the mindset I want to have this year. This year, I’m going to avoid checking creative boxes and let myself indulge the actual process.

January is the traditional time for reflection and goal-setting, and while I loathe a cliché, this has been on my mind the past few weeks and possibly yours as well. Sometimes it’s ok to do what everyone else is doing, but I promise not to make a habit of it.

Before I talk about goals, I want to share my Rules of Writing, because they are connected. Your writing goal is your destination, your daily process is your map, and the rules of the road exist to make sure you arrive in one piece.

So, to begin:

Will’s Rules of Writing

1. You must write.

That’s it. That’s all the rules.

You will find many other pieces of advice camouflaged as rules. Some of this advice is very good, but much of it is based on the preferences of the person sharing it. Even if you find that 10 out of 10 writers agree that a piece of advice is very, very good, so good in fact that it should be a rule chipped into stone, you will also find a cadre of creative people who do not abide by this advice and have written successfully while ignoring it.

Every purported rule of writing can be broken. You can start your story with a character waking up in the morning, you can abuse punctuation, you can use flashbacks aggressively. You can be profligate with adverbs and the passive voice, and write in dialect. You can write about places you’ve never been and about people who don’t look like you. I don’t necessarily endorse all that lawlessness, but I guarantee that you can find examples of fantastic stories that violate at least one, if not many, of the supposed rules of good writing and groupthink.

I will argue that it’s important to understand the rules, including how they work and why we have them, so that you can break them intelligently and with flair, but none of them are inviolate.

Except for Will’s Rule #1.

If you want to write, you must write. Until science invents a way to beam our thoughts and dreams into each other’s heads, the only way to get the word out is to put it on paper. Or screen. Or speak it aloud. You can choose the method, but you can’t simply leave it in your head. You don’t have to publish, you don’t have to show it to anyone, but you must put it down.

Seriously. This is all you have to do.

Goals are good.

Not every writer works with goals, but most of us do. Humans need roadmaps, motivation, and endings. Goals keep you focused on your commitment to yourself and let you know when you’re getting off-track. They give us something to celebrate when we reach them. We might even attach a small reward at the end.

Importantly, goals also let you know when it’s ok to stop. Long projects aren’t created in a day, but are built in small pieces, chapter by chapter, word by word. Yes, we hear the folklore of the famous writer who wrote his beloved novel in six weeks or a weekend, but let’s be honest. That’s not the way it works. Having a daily or weekly goal for your writing is good for your sanity, because you know when it’s time to stop.

What goals should you have? Whatever goal you want. Do you want to finish your novel this year or write 20 poems? Will you commit to writing 500 words per day or a chapter per week? It doesn’t matter. What are other writers doing? It doesn’t matter.

My advice? Pick a project this is personally meaningful and that will bring you joy when you work on it. Then break it down into manageable, achievable parts that work for you and motivate you.

Goals are yours.

As a single guy with no kids, how I manage goals and productivity won’t mean a lot to many people. A parent with young children will glare at me in disgust if I suggest setting aside 15-20 hours per week for creative time. Even I can’t manage that consistently.

Set goals that make sense. Take a good look at your schedule and resources. Don’t listen to other writers who say you should do this or have to do that. No, you don’t have to write every day. No, you don’t need 2-3 hours of uninterrupted time. It doesn’t matter what other writers do. Have an honest conversation with yourself and commit to something realistic.

Your goal may be a set amount of time per day or a number of words or pages. You may commit to writing before work or on your lunch hour or for four hours once a week on Sundays.

And here’s another thought: If the idea of setting a goal like this stresses you out, don’t do it. Sometimes, adding one more thing – even something as small as writing for 10 minutes a day – is too much. The human brain can only handle so many things, and if you already have enough, that’s ok. Pick your battles. Writing is supposed to be joyful, not a fight. If a goal adds to your burdens, don’t set one.

Try this instead: keep a journal or composition book and a pen with you at all times. Stuff it in your purse or briefcase, keep it in the car and on your nightstand. When you have an idea, jot it down. It might be a story idea, something you saw, an interesting person you met, a snippet of overheard conversation. No set time of day, no word counts. Just you and a pen and your thoughts, when you think of them. Start by making a habit, and work up to a goal.

I’m a big fan of being realistic and cutting yourself some slack. Honor whatever time you can give to your work. It may not feel like enough now, but in time, you’ll find more. Trust me. Be kind to yourself.

Goals can change.

When a goal or process doesn’t serve you, you can alter or eliminate it. If you make some kind of commitment, I recommend giving it a good college try before you quit, but when your process doesn’t serve your work, you should change your process.

Back when I was shacked up with someone, I wrote for 20 minutes a day by hand in my car during my lunch break. In my heady, newly-single years, I wrote in the morning before work, usually getting up at 5 a.m. and writing for at least two hours. These days, I’m an after-work and weekend writer. In part, that’s due to the difference between having a live-in relationship and being single. My free time is my own. I also used to hate my job, and came home stressed and angry, so I had more creative energy in the morning. I’m also older now, so if you think I’m doing anything at 5 a.m., you are grossly mistaken.

Sometimes I find daily word count goals incredibly motivating. During my graphic novel year, my goal was two finished pages per day, or about 100 pages every two months. These days, I’ve committed to blocks of hours per week, during which I focus on creating my best work, regardless of how many words I put down. I have a long-term goal of finishing my novel this year, but my process goal is to create the best work I can out of the 100,000 or so words I’ve already written during the word-count phase.

The work is always more important than the process you use to get it down. And remember that “the work” includes your ability to express yourself creatively, your joyfulness, and your sense of fulfillment. Those are more precious than any completed manuscript.

I suppose you could call that Will’s Rule for Writing #2: Have fun. Be joyful. Love writing.