Pre-writing, development, chapter train, revisions, edits—when you understand the whole process and have it laid out in front of you like a well-marked road, it can feel like there would be no reason at all to stop you from finishing in just a couple of months. You can make a plan, set your daily or weekly writing goals and then just wind yourself up like a marching toy with a key and get it done. Except for the catch that you’re not a winding toy, but a person embarking on a long-term, creative pursuit. There are going to be pauses. Sometimes even what feels like a dead stop. That’s okay, in fact that’s part of the process itself. Pauses can even make the work better in the long run The trick is not letting that pause bloom into a full surrender. This week we’re discussing how to recognize the different kinds of pauses and how you can take those pauses in stride and get back on track when you’re ready.
Before we get into today’s post, we wanted to ask—do you have a plan for actually finishing your memoir? If not, we know you aren’t making the progress you hoped for. That’s why we developed The Memoir Method Checklist. This free guide (and video training!) will take you through every single step you need from idea to published marketable book. Grab it now at https://pageandpodium.com/checklist
Three kinds of Pauses
When we work with aspiring authors, both as a book coach and as a ghost writer, many writers came to us because their manuscript has been on pause too long, and they’ve lost touch with how to start again or have realized they didn’t really want to start again at all.
In the video, Amanda talks about her own pausing her memoir and why it was both necessary and difficult to come back from, even as a seasoned writer used to deadlines. From going to between working with other writers and writing our own projects, we can see three distinct kids of pauses: the intentional, the shameful pause, and the compassionate pause.
The intentional pause is exactly what it sounds like, pausing on purpose. These pauses are planned and healthy: taking time off for travel, holidays, family needs, or simply because you know your creative brain needs space. When Amanda stepped away from her memoir for her honeymoon and the holidays, that was an intentional pause.
The shameful pause usually isn’t chosen, creeps in when life interrupts your writing routine. A natural—but deeply unhelpful—response is to judge yourself for it, letting that pause spiral out further because of the shame. Instead of acknowledging the needs that demanded a pause, you tell yourself you “should” push through. That self‑criticism snowballs, turning one missed session into a longer stall because shame convinces you that you’ve failed, that you’re not disciplined enough, or that you don’t deserve to write your book. Shame makes it incredibly hard to return because it frames a normal human pause as a personal flaw.
A compassionate pause is what the shameful pause could become with a shift in mindset. The demands on your time and energy are in flux, and only partially under your influence, including your health, your responsibilities, and your emotional bandwidth. Instead of punishing yourself for being human, you give yourself permission to step back, trusting that rest, processing, or simply time will support the work. Amanda’s own “shameful pause” transformed into a compassionate one once she recognized that she wasn’t just tired—she was sick, overloaded, and wrestling with a chapter that needed more time to percolate. Compassion allowed her to return without self‑judgment and with a clearer understanding of what the work required.
Together, these three pauses shape the real writing journey. You mostly likely won’t be able to avoid a pause altogether, but you can recognize which kind you’re in and choose the one that supports your writing rather than sabotages it.
Everyone Pauses
When we said that many of the writers we work with faced a pause of some kind in their process that has caused them to doubt their ability to finish, that was under-representation. It’s actually all of them. Pausing is not a sign of weakness; it’s something all writers deal with. It’s absolutely normal, so you should expect it and incorporate it into your plan as a given. This makes the inevitable pause feel less like a mini-failure and more organically part of the process. So when you take a pause, don’t escalate it by taking it on as a moral failing.
Pauses can solve problems
One of the most surprising truths about pausing is that what feels like a personal failure often turns out to be a form of creative problem‑solving. A pause can look like resistance or avoidance on the surface, but underneath, your brain is still working—sorting, connecting, and clarifying ideas you haven’t fully articulated yet. Many writers discover that what they interpreted as writer’s block was actually a necessary period of processing that ultimately strengthens the work.
For Amanda, this became clear while drafting a chapter that marked a major transition in her memoir—from the world of academia into the early days of Page & Podium. Even with a clear topic and message already defined, the chapter‑level execution wasn’t obvious. That lack of clarity was the real source of the stall. In the video, Amanda describes in more detail how she found her way back into the chapter train. The pause created space for the necessary insight to surface. When she finally returned to the chapter, the writing flowed easily because the underlying idea had finally clicked into place.
Pauses can give you the time you need to let the material percolate, reveal missing connections, and help you see patterns you couldn’t access while pushing forward. A compassionate pause doesn’t just protect your well‑being—it can make your book better.
A important thing to remember during a pause is that you still want to keep your brain on the task, even if you’re not producing words at the rate you want to. Creating visual reminders, revisiting your outline periodically, and incorporating quiet periods to allow your mind to work on the problem is more productive than it looks.
Plan your next session before you stop
At the end of every writing session, plan your next one. Put that plan on the page, not just in your head, giving your next session a mini-outline before you close out. Whether a pause is coming or not, this small habit creates a bridge back into your project.
None of us can predict when that unplanned pause will hit. Illness, emergencies, exhaustion, or life logistics can interrupt even the most consistent routine. When that happens, having a written plan waiting for you becomes an anchor. It keeps you connected to the work even when you’re not actively drafting.
Amanda relied on this during the chapter that temporarily derailed her memoir. Even though she didn’t yet know exactly what would go into the next chapter, she had outlined the essential beats ahead of time. That simple plan gave her something to revisit during the pause—something to stay curious about, something to mentally nibble on without pressure. And that curiosity helped her naturally ease back into the work once she was ready.
If you find yourself in a shameful or compassionate pause, peeking at your chapter plan can be grounding. Not as a weapon (“I should be further along”), but as an invitation: What here feels interesting? What sparks a little excitement? What am I curious to explore when I return? That gentle engagement often rekindles momentum long before you sit back down to write.
Let your anger go outward
When a pause is intentional, frustration rarely appears. But when life interrupts your writing plans, anger is natural. Don’t turn that anger on yourself.
Anger needs somewhere to go. If you swallow it, it almost always transforms into shame. If you let yourself be angry at the timing, the circumstances, the disruption, it’s easier to let go the moment things shift. That emotional release keeps you from interpreting a human moment as a personal flaw.
So let the anger out. Vent, stomp, scribble, punch a pillow—whatever helps the emotion move outward. What you don’t do is weaponize it against yourself. You didn’t fail. You’re a human navigating a human life while writing a demanding book. You deserve compassion, not punishment.
Resist the Shiny “New Project”
With a pause can sometimes come a temptation: the urge to abandon your current manuscript and chase something new. The fantasy of a fresh, exciting idea starts calling your name. Something not yet tarnished by any feelings of slog or uncertainty.
Every writer knows this feeling. Writers often have multiple future projects waiting in the wings, and during a difficult stretch, those ideas can look cleaner, easier, and more inspiring than the messy middle you’re in. This is especially common around the halfway point of a manuscript, which is a notorious danger zone.
But that impulse almost always comes from the shame voice, not the compassionate one. The compassionate voice knows that losing momentum doesn’t mean losing the project. It knows that excitement can be rekindled, that the middle is supposed to feel murky, and that staying the course is what ultimately leads to a finished book.
Celebrate wins, even if it’s just a gentle restart
Lesson six is the most predictable—and the most overlooked. As soon as you feel even the smallest bit of momentum returning, celebrate it. You don’t have to wait until you’ve drafted a full chapter or hit a major milestone. You can celebrate simply by opening your outline again, reconnecting with your ideas, or giving yourself five quiet minutes to think about the next step.
Writers often forget that the small decisions—the tiny recommitments—are the real workhorses of a long project. Positive reinforcement can fuel. Celebrate the micro‑wins, the gentle restarts, the moments you choose to stay connected to your book. Those are the choices that carry you to the finish line.
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!
