What if November 30 arrived and your book were no longer something you were going to write someday?
What if there were an actual manuscript on your computer—the whole messy, uneven, needs-some-work first draft?
You could read it. Improve it. Finally have something to work with beyond a collection of notes and a very sincere intention.
For years, November has been associated with NaNoWriMo, the challenge to draft 50,000 words of a novel in a month. The nonprofit behind it closed in 2025, but November writing challenges have continued under other names.
And if you’re an aspiring Christian nonfiction author, there’s something useful in that tradition for you.
You don’t need to write a novel to give yourself a November finish line.
You may already have years of teaching, experience, stories, and hard-earned understanding to draw from. The question is whether this November will become another month of thinking about the book—or a month when the manuscript finally moves forward.
Are you tracking with me?
They built the wall in 52 days
Nehemiah 6:15 records that Jerusalem’s wall was completed in fifty-two days.
The conditions weren’t peaceful. The opposition wasn’t imaginary. The builders had to account for threats while continuing the work.
They had a clear assignment, an organized effort, and a commitment to keep building.
That’s what interests me about the story. We can become so focused on finding better conditions that the work itself keeps getting postponed.
Now, writing your book isn’t the same assignment as rebuilding Jerusalem’s wall. But you may recognize the habit of waiting for a season with fewer interruptions.
After the holidays. When work settles down. When the family needs less. When you have a quiet house and an uninterrupted stretch of time.
And sometimes adjusting the timing is wise. You have real responsibilities, and pretending otherwise won’t help you finish.
But sometimes the quieter season keeps moving further into the future.
So here’s my question: what would it take for this November to produce something different from the last one?
How November usually goes
November 1 arrives full of promise. You open a document. Maybe you buy a notebook. You might even tell somebody you’re finally doing it this year.
Then you realize there are a few things you should research first.
That research suggests a different angle. The different angle requires a new outline. The new outline raises questions about the title. Before long, you’re watching another training about writing a book.
Then Thanksgiving approaches, and you decide it would be more sensible to start afterward.
Suddenly it’s December.
The notebook is still lovely. The intention is still sincere. The manuscript is still mostly missing.
Can I be blunt with you? If that pattern sounds familiar, giving yourself another deadline may not be enough. You need to look at what happens between deciding to write and actually producing pages.
Because you may be working very hard around your book without moving the book itself forward.
Are you preparing to write—or preparing to keep preparing?
Preparation matters. I’m a big believer in making strategic decisions before pouring months of effort into a manuscript.
But preparation should eventually give you something you can use.
A decision. A clearer direction. A workable plan. Enough understanding to attempt the next section.
If every round of preparation leaves you convinced that you need another round, it’s worth examining what’s happening.
Ask yourself:
- If I had time to write tomorrow, would I know what I was trying to say? You don’t need every sentence planned, but you need enough direction to begin.
- Is my preparation producing decisions? Or am I collecting more possibilities while avoiding choosing among them?
- What do I expect a rough first draft to prove? Am I treating imperfect writing as evidence that I shouldn’t be writing at all?
That last question can stop a book before it has a chance.
A first draft will expose gaps. You’ll discover explanations that don’t quite work, stories that need a different home, and sections that sounded clearer in your head.
That’s useful information. It gives you something specific to improve.
An unwritten book can remain wonderfully impressive because nobody—including you—has had to examine the actual sentences.
The math can be more manageable than you think
You don’t have to adopt a novel-writing challenge’s word count for your nonfiction book.
The right length depends on the reader, the subject, the format, and the promise you’re making. Some focused books need considerably fewer words than others.
But consider one example:
1,000 words a day × 30 days = 30,000 words.
That could be a substantial first draft of a focused nonfiction book.
It isn’t a universal target. It isn’t a promise that every writer can produce those words in an hour. And it certainly isn’t a complete publishing plan.
It does show how a project that feels enormous can become easier to understand when you look at it over a defined period.
You may choose a different target. You may use November to complete a manuscript you’ve already started. You may discover that the useful goal for this season is a shorter draft.
The point is to choose a meaningful finish line for your actual book and your actual life.
You may have more material than you realize
If you’ve taught Bible studies, led groups, answered questions, or helped people through a situation you understand, you may already have material worth developing.
Think about the things people regularly ask you to explain.
The lesson you’ve taught several times. The experience that changed how you approach life. The problem you had to figure out the hard way, and the things you wish someone had told you at the beginning.
That doesn’t automatically make a finished book. But it can give you a place to begin.
Sometimes aspiring authors assume they have to manufacture an entirely new body of wisdom before they’re allowed to write. Meanwhile, they’re overlooking something useful because it has become familiar to them.
You’ve explained it so often that it seems obvious.
It may not be obvious to the person who needs your help.
The work is recognizing which part belongs in this book—and developing it for the reader you want to serve.
Strategy first, then sprint
Before you invest thirty days in a manuscript, make sure you’re giving the right book that attention.
I care about this because it’s possible to be disciplined, enthusiastic, and completely committed to a project that still needs a better foundation.
More words won’t settle an unclear promise. A faster pace won’t choose the reader for you. A deadline won’t automatically turn several competing ideas into one coherent book.
That doesn’t mean you need to disappear into six more months of planning.
It means the decisions deserve attention.
You can also have a sound book idea and struggle with the way you approach the writing. Perhaps you begin enthusiastically and lose momentum. Perhaps every session turns into another revision of material you’ve already written.
Those situations may look similar from the outside: the book isn’t finished. But the help that moves one writer forward may miss what another writer needs.
That’s why I want you to understand your own pattern before making another promise to “try harder.”
My free, 90-second quiz, What Kind of Writer Are You?, is a useful place to begin. It helps you recognize how you get stuck and a practical next step that fits.
November won’t write your book
A new month can give you a deadline and a sense of possibility. It can’t do the writing for you.
But don’t dismiss the value of a defined season simply because you’ve tried before.
This November could be the month you stop treating every imperfect paragraph as a reason to restart. It could be the month you make a decision you’ve been postponing. It could be the month a book that has existed mostly in conversation becomes a manuscript you can actually read.
Will everyone complete an entire draft in thirty days? No.
Can you make meaningful progress instead of spending another month circling the same intention? That’s a possibility worth taking seriously.
And if you do finish the draft, you’ll have something you didn’t have at the beginning: a whole piece of work to evaluate and improve.
That’s a very different starting point from “I have a book in me.”
Before November begins, discover what’s been stopping you
You’ve spent plenty of time thinking about your book. Let’s take ninety seconds to think about the writer.
I created “What Kind of Writer Are You?” to help you recognize your writing pattern, the trap that can keep you stuck, and a practical next step that fits.
Before you make another November writing resolution, take a moment to understand the writer who’ll be doing the work.
Take the free quiz and discover your writer type →
I’m cheering for you—and for the progress you could make this November.
Love & Prayers,
Donna