I spend my days helping people write their memoirs and craft their life stories into meaningful heirloom books to pass on—and yet, when it comes to writing my own personal stories, I have been completely stuck.

For a while I thought it was burnout, not having the energy to focus on my own stories because I was “storied out” from everyone else’s. But that’s not it.

Sometimes I think it’s my perfectionism creeping in—it has a habit of hindering my progress when I feel that something isn’t living up to my overly high standards (even though, as a longtime editor, I am fully aware that first drafts are meant to be anything but perfect!). But it’s not this, either, for I have done too little to even assess my storytelling as imperfect.

Could it really be that I am feeling overwhelmed by the task before me? How could that be when I work regularly to calm overwhelm and set priorities for my clients every single day? How could that be when I’ve written so much about how to approach your life story writing that I could gather it all into a book (hey, why haven’t I done that yet, either?!)?

Well, here’s the reason I haven’t been making progress with my own personal narrative: Despite knowing the steps—and despite having taken the first few of them—somewhere along the way I neglect my plan. I ignore the life timeline I’ve thoughtfully written; I start jotting notes in an entirely new notebook (separate from my previous writings, many on the same topics); and I keep going back to square one, thinking my newer ideas are more urgent than those I have already begun executing. I am tripping over myself constantly.

A project reset: 3 steps to getting my (and your) life writing back on track

I spent much of this morning procrastinating in the form of…

• cleaning out my email inbox

• scrubbing every surface in my office…and kitchen, and bedroom…

• driving into town to run two errands that could totally have waited!

This is a routine familiar to every professional writer I know, but I feel no less guilty for knowing this.

The oft-repeated advice for escaping this avoidance routine? SIT IN THE CHAIR AND WRITE. That’s it. Just sit. And write.

But, to circle back to the first part of this blog post: I don’t know what to write. And so…a full project reset is in order.

If you, too, are feeling overwhelmed in the middle of your life writing endeavor, try this: Go back to square one and organize (or, perhaps, reorganize) everything:

1. Compile all your writing.

   Gather all of your writing into one pile. Include journals (even the ones with a mere two paragraphs of personal writing within their pages); loose papers (even the notes scribbled on the back of bill envelopes); and printouts of writing you’ve done on your computer. If you’ve created a life timeline, have this on hand, as well.
   
   

2. Sift through your stories.

   Set aside a block of time—likely between one and two hours—to review what you’ve got. Take notes about recurring themes you encounter in your writing, and about new ideas that come to mind during your reading. Are there glaring omissions? Blocks of writing that feel more complete than the rest?
   
   

3. Plan with intention.

   Make a plan for diving back in to your memoir project with intention. Designate ONE place for your writing to happen (a single document on your computer, perhaps, or a preferred notebook for handwritten musings). Decide on a major theme for your project, and file any writing that does not adhere to this theme in a folder marked “future writing.” And finally, set some reasonable goals for yourself: Will you write a little every day, or for a chunk of time every Saturday, perhaps? Do you aim to have your stories compiled into a book (if so, you may want to start gathering photos as you go). Are there holes in your storytelling that may need further research—a conversation with mom or a sibling, maybe, or a trip to the library? If so, sketch out a plan for moving forward with all those elements.

Sometimes our storytelling gets muddled. There’s so much we want to say, we’re scattered in our approach, we start and stop so often that we lose our place. It’s all okay. So I tell myself, and so I say to you! Hopefully, a reset is all we need. It’s what’s on my agenda for tomorrow, now that my home is squeaky clean and, fingers crossed, procrastination–proof…