For our last video and blog of 2025 (!), we are reflecting on the biggest mistakes we’ve seen (and made) over this year, often over and over again. These aren’t mistakes like putting a comma before every “and” regardless of whether there’s a second clause, but the kind of mistake that drags down your progress, gets your whole project off track, or just sucks the fun out of writing itself. The root of all these mistakes is an insidious thing that can (and most likely will) haunt all writers at some stage of the process: fear. When we recognize that fear is what most holds us back, we can reframe our mindset to get our momentum back.
Reading is essential to improving your writing skills, and reading like a writer means seeing past the glossy end-result into a book’s structure and the author’s choices about how the story is told. Learning to read like a writer doesn’t mean learning how to merely imitate but learning the craft by example. We’re excited to announce the launch of our Memoir Method Book Club! Your first session is free, so sign up to save your seat here.
Reflect on your Mindset
As we wrap up 2025, we’ve been reflecting on the conversations we’ve had this year with each other, other writers, and out clients. We love to dig into the nuts and bolts of structure, publishing, and other logistics of writing. Those are important, but the biggest challenges first-time authors face aren’t those technical concerns and decisions. It’s how we hold the project in our minds as we work.
Every writer I know has experienced the same fear at some point: that after months or years of effort, the book simply won’t be good enough. That fear can stall progress or even convince us to quit. It’s an insidious Catch-22 that makes us believe that if we never finish, then the book can forever stay that shimmering, golden possibility and not some permanent, flawed thing in the world.
As Frank Herbert said: Fear is the mind killer.
It’s easy to spiral into self-criticism and lose sight of why we started. Whenever you feel stuck or find yourself questioning the worth of your book, reflect on your mindset. It’s the foundation for every strong project. In working with our clients and on our own projects, we have identified six mindset traps and how we can avoid them.
Mistake 1: Rushing
When we start to really get going in the draft, inevitably it’s followed by the urge to rush. Do you find yourself telling yourself that “I’ll write three chapters this weekend,” or “I’ll knock out the draft over the holidays,”?When prioritizing speed over steady, quality progress, you’re hurting your writing, but more importantly hurting your writing process.
Dorothy Parker said “I loathe writing; I love having written.” Oh, how I understand that feeling. But it can also urge us to get the writing “over with” so we can get to the “having written” part.
When we pressure ourselves to finish quickly, we rob the book the time, space, and creative attention it needs. A good book doesn’t have to be slow, but it does require more than efficiency. Readers can sense when a manuscript has been rushed; it feels mechanical, stripped of the depth and resonance that make a story worth reading.
Rushing also keeps us rigidly tied to a plan, even when the book itself is asking for more—a new chapter, an expanded scene, a deeper exploration. Slowing down to honor those instincts may extend the timeline, but it strengthens the work. The goal isn’t to finish by some arbitrary deadline; it’s to create a book that feels alive, authentic, and worth the journey.
So if you catch yourself chasing speed at the expense of joy, slow down. Reevaluate. Give yourself permission to savor the process, the writing part at least half as much as the having written part. Even with heavy material, there should be moments of satisfaction in shaping your story. Productivity matters, but creativity matters more.
Mistake 2: Clinging to what you have already written
That love of having written can lead to another mistake we often see that can quietly derail progress: clinging too tightly to material we’ve already drafted. We often work with writers who have a book’s worth of material already written—either an unstructured first draft, a false start, blogs or other short-form pieces, or years of journals. They know that it’s not a book yet, even if the word count is book-length. The first instinct is how to get from what they have to a cohesive, finished book with as little violence (re: rewriting) as possible.
I’ve recently worked with several writers who struggled with this resistance to rewriting, and the results were the same in each case, even though the individual projects were very different. They spent several weeks trying to “tweak” it into working, only to end up frustrated. Eventually, they had to accept that you can’t just “tweak” it when your chapter has split into two separate themes, or the central point is different than what you laid out in your outline, or you’ve been holding back the best example for somewhere else. When they accepted that rewriting was the name of the game and dove in, it went quickly and even beautifully.
The resistance to rewriting is natural; after all, it feels painful to “waste” words we’ve already put on the page. But drafts aren’t wasted effort. That draft is simply the winding path you had to take to find the best way to share your truth. Drafts are tools for thinking, not sacred text. Breakthroughs can come not from salvaging old material but from releasing it. When we hold on too rigidly, we lose the flexibility our book needs to grow. When we let go, we unlock momentum.
So if you find yourself resisting changes because you don’t want to “lose” what you’ve written, pause and reframe. That writing served its purpose. Now it’s time to let it go so the book can become what it’s meant to be.
Mistake 3: Getting Stuck on Right vs Wrong
Many writers—especially high achievers—get trapped in the idea of “right” versus “wrong.” Creativity doesn’t work that way.
Writing can follow a clear step-by-step process, but it’s not paint by numbers. You need to feel free to adjust and experiment as you go. One step along the way is creating an outline, and often writers we work with will feel like deviating from that outline is breaking some kind of rule, or take it as a sign that the outline is all “wrong” from the get-go. While structure is essential, it’s meant to be a guide, not a cage. That fear of being wrong can freeze progress.
My favorite metaphor for outlines is to think of it like travel plans. When you plan a long trip, some things need to be set—flight, hotels, possibly a few keys must-dos that require buying tickets ahead. But you don’t want to plan everything down to the minute, because that’s just not very fun. And what if you stumble upon an arts festival or a bar where the locals are playing an elaborate scavenger hunt? Not being able to follow things that surprise you won’t make for the best vacation, and being inflexible with your outline won’t make for the best book.
When we cling too tightly to doing it “right,” we stifle creativity. True progress comes from trusting the process, adapting, and letting the book evolve.
Mistake 4: Not Trusting Your Intuition
When you fall into the trap of “right vs. wrong,” we lose sight of our most essential creative asset—our intuition.
One of our Memoir Method members recently faced this exact challenge. She had a solid outline, but as she wrote, she felt the chapter break belonged in a different place than planned. Her instinct was clear, yet she hesitated because she was worried that deviating might complicate the structure. While it required some tweaking to her plan, her intuition was guiding her toward a stronger flow. Once she trusted it, the writing opened up.
This is the gift of intuition: it tells us when the plan needs to bend. Outlines provide direction, but they can’t predict every turn. Creative projects thrive when we listen to that inner pulse, even if it takes months of practice to recognize it.
Trust yourself. In memoir or any deeply personal work, intuition is not a distraction—it’s the compass that keeps the book authentic.
Mistake 5: Getting Stuck in your Audience’s Head
As our manuscripts start to feel real, it’s natural to start imagining how readers will respond. Suddenly the audience isn’t abstract anymore—it’s a group of people who will see our words, our choices, and our mistakes. That awareness often triggers self‑doubt, especially in memoir writing, where we’re almost guaranteed to share moments we’re not proud of. That self-doubt turns to fear, and fear is the mind (and writing) killer.
Vulnerable, imperfect stories are what make a memoir compelling. Readers connect with honesty, not perfection. Yet so many writers begin to edit themselves mid‑draft, worrying about how others will judge them. They soften details, avoid uncomfortable truths, or rewrite passages to make themselves look better. And they lose the raw authenticity that gives the book its power.
Writing from an imagined audience perspective means we’re no longer writing from our own. Instead of trusting our voice, we let fear dictate the draft.
We want to separate drafting from editing. Drafting is for discovery, honesty, and unbound self-expression. Editing is where we can consider audience perspective, ensuring clarity, and cohesion so all that we discovered and shared can be received by our audience. That’s only really possible once the full manuscript exists. Trying to anticipate reactions too early only stalls progress and undermines confidence.
Powerful books don’t try to please everyone but stay true to what the author needed to say.
Mistake 6: Not Celebrating Your Wins
The final mistake—and one of the most important—is forgetting to celebrate along the way. This isn’t fluff or cheerleading; it’s critical. Without celebration, the process quickly becomes demoralizing. We’ve seen it in ourselves and in countless clients: when we skip the step of acknowledging progress, motivation drains away.
When we finish a scene, chapter, or a revision and immediately think, “I should have gotten further,” we turn a win into a fail, progress into pain. Instead of pausing to recognize what we’ve accomplished, we focus on what’s left undone. That mindset doesn’t motivate to tackle that next thing, but robs us of momentum by reinforcing that negative feeling associated with writing.
One client in our Editor in Your Pocket program had been working on a nonfiction book for nearly 15 years. She came to us ready to give up, convinced this was her last attempt. What helped her finally finish wasn’t just accountability—it was celebration. Each week, she reported progress but downplayed it, apologizing for not doing “enough.” We encouraged her to mark every milestone, even revisions, with something tangible: a dinner reservation, a treat, or simply sharing the win with friends. That shift gave her energy, confidence, and ultimately carried her across the finish line.
Celebration isn’t only for the big finale. Every chapter, every revision, every breakthrough deserves recognition. Writing a book is long and demanding, and most of us underestimate how much it will take out of us. By celebrating each step, we train our brains to believe we’re on track—and when we believe it, we act like it. That’s how progress compounds.
So don’t wait until the end. Build celebration into your process. Whether it’s a fancy latte, a night out, or a simple announcement to your circle, those small rituals remind you: yes, you’re doing this, and you’re doing it well.
PS. Searching the internet for writing, publishing, and book marketing advice can be exhausting to say the least! If you’re ready for hands on, one-on-one support for your memoir, check out The Memoir Method. We’d love to welcome you into this nine-month group program specially designed for women writing their first memoirs. And don’t forget, if you’d like to chat with Amanda about the program (or any other services we offer), you can book a free consult any time!
