Do you have any unfinished writing projects kicking around? The partial draft of an essay you’ve started, a book proposal in the works, or an unfinished novel?

Of course you do! We all do. But is does one weigh on your mind? If so, take a moment to examine your response to it.

• Is it keeping you from working on a new project? (I have to finish this first.)
• Does it make you feel like less of a writer? (I don’t have the discipline to finish it, or I’m behind on my writing goals!)

Unfinished projects can hold us back. We may feel guilty about them, or decide to invest unknown time and effort to finish them, while putting off the work that really makes our hearts sing.

False starts, half-written pieces, and scattered notebooks are the messy and necessary detritus of a creative life. Wisdom lies in knowing which of those projects to carry through to completion.

If you feel constrained by incomplete projects, or face months of clean-up before you start the real work of your writing, this short guide may help you weigh your options.

How to choose the keepers

Start by identifying any unfinished projects that are tugging on you—something that you are not actively working on, or that you keep pulling up without making real progress. Choose any project that makes you feel uncomfortable, guilty, or inhibited.

Got one? Okay, let’s figure out your options. Consider it carefully and decide which of these buckets the project falls into:

1. Finish soon
2. Set aside for the future
3. Save as fodder for future projects
4. Let it go

How do you know which bucket the project belongs in? Let’s look at each.

Projects worth finishing

Is this project worth your time and energy right now? That’s the big question—and always one worth asking.

Don’t get me wrong—I am a big fan of finishing and sharing your work. That’s an essential part of the creative process. If you never publish, then your writing finishes its journey to another person’s mind. (I wrote about the importance of shipping recently here.)

At the same time, we learn and grow in the process of writing, and may outgrow our past efforts. Don’t let the sunk cost fallacy — that commitment to finish because you’ve already worked on something — keep you on a path that no longer serves you. Checking an item off a list isn’t a big enough payoff.

If you don’t immediately think, “Yes, I want to finish this now,” you might examine why you’re pausing. Maybe life is too busy. Perhaps the project feels scary, or you’re not happy about the direction it’s taking you. Here are a few questions to help you examine your the project’s potential value.

How much work will it take to finish? A week? A month? A year?

If you love the project but don’t foresee having the time, consider down-cycling it. Turn it into something smaller that you can finish soon. Perhaps that aborted book becomes a short story or a blog post. That blog post becomes a social media post. You can always return to it later as the grander project, and will have learned something in the interim. (Many great nonfiction books start from essays.)

How will this project serve you?

Does it help you tune your skills or build your audience? Is it the kind of writing you want to do? Is it teaching you something? Perhaps it pays well; that’s a benefit, too. Make sure you understand your why.

How will this piece help others?

Will it make a difference in the world? The author George Saunders asks himself, “When, George, are you at your most powerful?” For him, the answer is writing fiction. You might ask the same question of yourself.

How does it make you feel?

How does writing this project make you feel? Powerful (a la George Saunders)? Joyful? Inspired? Or bored?

If it’s a clear win, chart your plan for finishing the project. Get help if you need to—an accountability group, a coach, a friend. If the project doesn’t have an absolutely green light, see if it fits in one of the other buckets.

Projects to save for later

If you don’t have the time or resources to work on it now, save it for later. You may return as a stronger writer and wiser person.

Create a special folder or file for Future Projects, and carefully place it in there. Make a note to revisit it in six months to a year. If the project is important to you, put that date in the calendar. Then, move on with a clear conscience.

If you find yourself with unexpected time or interest, you can always pick it up. But by switching the label to “deferred,” you release your creative energy to work on something else.

(When we think of things as unfinished, we often allocate mental resources to maintaining them. This is called the Zeigarnick Effect. If we stop thinking of them as unfinished, we can let them go for a while. Try this also when something is keeping you awake at night—write it on a list for the next day, and see if that helps you let go.)

When you revisit the project, you may discover that you have traveled down a different path in the interim. The luster may be gone. Don’t worry, there are two more buckets for the project.

Useful fodder

If you know any avid quilters, ask to see their fabric stash. It may amaze you. Quilters save bits and scraps, they buy “fat quarters” and yards, they save backings and more. They may spend hours organizing and sorting the stash by color, texture, pattern, and more. And they root around in the stash when it’s time to do a new project. Few “use up” their stash.

Writers have stashes, too—stories, journals, notes, notebooks. From time to time, you can peruse that collection and see if you can use anything. Unfinished projects may simply become fodder for other, as-yet-unknown work.

Projects to let go of

Not everything needs to be finished. Perhaps you are not the person to bring this project into the world. That’s okay. Perhaps you’ve taken a different path, and don’t plan to return to this one.

Take a moment to think of what you learned from the unfinished work. That you need to work on plotting? That the subject doesn’t bring you joy? It felt off?

Acknowledge the lesson, then channel your inner Marie Kondo—thank it for its service and let it go.

Now write

Everything has an opportunity cost. The time you spend finishing a project is time not spent on the next thing, the one that may bring you joy. And the weight of the unfinished projects can slow you down.

If you decide to finish the work, make the list of what needs to happen. Then, follow through. Give yourself a deadline and finish.

What are you taking with you on your writing journey?

If you decide to cache it for the future, add it to your stash, or discard it altogether, you’re free to turn to the next project. The new thing. See where it takes you, as you set off on your path with a lighter burden.

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