circling the drain (and how to escape)
Last time, I wrote about Norman Foster, the architect who doesn't hesitate to junk a good design in pursuit of a great one. Crucially, however, he only starts shredding blueprints after everyone on the team has lived and breathed the project for months. By that point, they all understand the constraints and the unexpected challenges. Only then does he feel free to let go of the first approach and start again with a fresh one.
Foster's strategy works because he's not bailing in confusion and chaos. He's stepping back and taking it all in before returning to the challenge from the beginning with a perspective fully invigorated by experience.
The cursed mirror image of this approach is what I call circling the drain.
You’ve probably been there. Things are going okay. You're 80% of the way toward a solid draft. Then, suddenly, you get a twitchy feeling: “This isn’t working.”
Cue the panic spiral. Something’s off, but you don’t know what. So instead of pushing through, you start over. Then that version starts to stink. So you rebuild again. And again.
Remember how Captain Kirk used to defeat evil computers by trapping them in a logical loop?
Kirk: This statement is false.
Computer: Does not compute. [Explodes.]
When you're stuck at 80%, it's tempting to think a fresh start will fix the problem. But you don't know what the problem is. What you’re actually doing is knocking down a perfectly fine house-in-progress because you haven't figured out how to make the laundry room big enough to fit a dryer. That's why, though each rebuild feels productive, you’re just tracing the same circle…around the same drain.
Here’s what I’ve learned: that moment—that itchy, unsatisfying, “something’s missing” feeling—is normal. It happens to everyone who’s serious about writing. As I said last time:
"You’ve got X words to tackle problems A, B, and C. Work long enough, and you’ll do it. Eventually, A, B, and C are handled and you’re under X words."
The solution usually shows up when you're least expecting it: in the shower, or halfway through unloading the dishwasher. But it only shows up if you stay in the draft. The problem is, many writers don’t know that. So they bail. They think they’ve hit an unsolvable problem, fleeing the mine when they’re a few feet from a vein of gold.
So what’s the way out of this trap?
Trust.
You’ve got to trust yourself. Even if it’s your first time. If you've made it to 80%, you’ve got what it takes to finish. You’re not stuck. A quiet part of you is hard at work on solving a problem that baffles your conscious mind. Keep moving forward, and it will deliver exactly what you need.