Writing a Novel: Lessons from Accountability, Word Counts, and Finishing My First Draft

As writers, we all wrestle with progress. Do you measure by time, by word count, or by the sheer fact that you sat down and tried?

For years, I wasn’t sure which path worked best for me. In fact, as I wrote about in this post, I spent ten years wanting to write a novel, but I couldn't figure out how to get from idea to finished draft. I’d get excited about a new story, start writing, and then… lose the thread.

It wasn’t that I couldn’t get words on the page. Quite the opposite. Hitting small daily word counts was never my problem.

My problem was that I’d write too much—pages and pages of tangents, backstory, or setting details—and then suddenly realize I’d written myself into a draft that no longer followed the storyline I set out to tell.

Three times I’d tried, and three times I ended up with a mess of scenes that didn’t add up to a novel. Plus, I was so burned out on the story idea, I couldn't face even trying to revision the monster I'd created. I didn’t want a repeat.

So after much hemming and hawing in December, I joined a novel accountability group that started in January 2025. The rules were simple: spend a few weeks in the pre-drafting phase; during drafting, write 500 words every day, with the goal of finishing a full draft by September 1.

At first, it sounded easy—a perfectly reasonable, and even encouraging goal. But once we started drafting, I quickly realized I had a very different experience than most of the group.

While others struggled to meet the 500-word mark, I hit it easily—so easily that I worried I was doing something wrong.

Ultimately, my worries boiled down to two simple questions:

• Was I writing too much?

• And would writing fast mean I'd have a nonsense draft?

Those questions ended up changing the way I think about drafting a novel... and what I learned surprised me.

Since I’ve always loved hearing how other writers work, I thought I’d share some of what I learned from my experience of writing a novel in an accountability group with you.

Here are my top lessons:

1) Accountability has different definitions

When our group set a daily target of 500 words, I thought, Great! That will keep me steady and on track. But it didn’t take long to realize that what motivated others didn’t motivate me.

Some of the writers in my group found the number reassuring—they could see progress, day by day, in neat increments. For me, the number became a distraction.

Hitting 500 words was easy. Too easy. And instead of making me feel accomplished, it made me worry that I wasn’t writing in the “right” way. That’s when I realized accountability can’t just be about numbers. For me, the true measure was time.

Inspired by Alan Watt’s The 90-Day Novel, I shifted my goal to two hours of writing each day. Then, when it came time to check in with the group, I didn’t post my word count—I posted my time spent.

That small adjustment was a breakthrough. I was still participating, still accountable, but on my own terms.

The group reminded me that accountability isn’t one-size-fits-all; it’s about finding the structure that keeps you honest and moving forward..

2) Immersion matters more than numbers

One of the unexpected gifts of the group was the sense that we were all on the same journey, even if our paths looked different.

Every day, I logged in and saw others post their word counts, their frustrations, their small victories. That sense of community helped me keep going when my own doubts crept in.

But instead of focusing on word counts like most of the group, I focused on immersion. Touching my story world every day, even on days when life happened and I couldn't hit my usual goals.

Two hours a day gave me the continuity I needed to stay in the story’s world, and that continuity made all the difference. Plus, that immersion in my story world is what stopped me from repeating my past mistakes.

In earlier attempts at writing a novel, I’d lose my way—bogged down in tangents, backstory, or settings that didn’t move the plot forward. This time, by staying steeped in the story day after day, I could sense when I was drifting and nudge myself back.

The group’s accountability deadline—September 1—gave me just enough pressure to keep momentum without letting me spiral off-course.

In the end, I finished my draft in 10 weeks, something I couldn’t have imagined without both immersion and accountability working together..

3) Reframing the first draft

One of the most eye-opening parts of being in the group was watching how differently people approached their drafts.

Some revised as they wrote, tinkering with sentences and circling back before moving forward. Others confessed that they froze if they felt their words weren’t “good enough.”

Seeing those struggles helped me understand my own tendency: I draft fast, messy, and long.

That’s when I decided to reframe what I was writing as a zero draft. It wasn’t meant to be pretty or polished—it was simply me telling myself the story.

Sharing that perspective in the group took away the shame of messy progress.

When I admitted to writing sprawling, imperfect chapters, I was met with encouragement instead of judgment. That gave me the freedom to keep going instead of slowing down to polish.

Without the group, I might have felt guilty for not writing “the right way.” With the group, I found validation in the idea that there is no single right way.

4) Overwriting isn't failure... it's fuel!

Here’s where the group dynamic really shifted my perspective. I remember hesitating before posting my daily progress—2,000 words, 2,500 words—numbers far higher than most of the group.

Part of me worried people would think I was rushing or not taking the work seriously. But the accountability group was a safe space, and the simple act of reporting honestly taught me something important: my process has value, even if it looks different from someone else’s.

When I read back through my draft, I saw that much of my overwriting piled up in Act 1: long exploratory scenes, stage directions, even moments where I explained in narration what I’d already shown in action.

But instead of feeling defeated, I realized I had raw material to shape. Others in the group were “underwriters,” building up their stories later. I was an “overwriter,” carving mine down.

Both processes worked. The accountability group gave me the perspective to see overwriting not as failure, but as fuel for revision.

5) Being part of a writing community offers real value

The biggest gift of joining an accountability group wasn’t the word counts, the deadlines, or even the zero draft I finished. It was the people.

Being part of a writing a novel accountability group showed me just how powerful community can be for finishing a draft.

Writing is such a solitary act that it’s easy to forget there are others out there wrestling with the exact same doubts, habits, and quirks. In my group, I saw writers struggling with word counts I found easy, and I saw others finishing scenes in ways that inspired me.

That mix of perspectives helped me feel less alone in the process.

Community also gave me a place to be honest. On days I felt embarrassed about my sky-high word counts, I could admit that and still be met with encouragement. On days I struggled with motivation, I saw other writers posting about their own struggles and found the nudge I needed to sit down anyway.

Accountability worked not just because I was reporting progress, but because I was doing it alongside people who understood what it meant to wrestle words onto the page.

Most of all, community reminded me that writing a novel doesn’t have to be a lonely pursuit. Yes, the actual drafting is still me at my desk, one word after another, but the check-ins, the shared milestones, and the collective cheerleading made the journey lighter.

Accountability groups aren’t just about the metrics—they’re about connection. And sometimes, knowing you’re not the only one in the trenches is the push you need to keep going.

My takeaway on writing a novel with an accountability group

Joining a novel accountability group taught me far more than I expected. I didn’t just hit a daily word count or meet a September deadline—I learned how I actually write best.

I discovered that accountability is about commitment, not numbers. That immersion fuels momentum, that first drafts don’t have to be polished, and that my tendency to overwrite isn’t a flaw but part of my process.

Most importantly, I learned the value of community: writing alongside others kept me honest, encouraged, and moving forward. Sometimes the greatest gift of a group really is the reminder that we’re not writing alone.

In the end, finishing my first draft wasn’t just about showing up at my desk. It was about showing up for myself and for the group, even when our processes looked different.

What about you? Have you ever tried writing a novel with an accountability group? I’d love to hear about your experience! Leave a comment below or send me a message here and let me know your thoughts!

Peace & plenty,