Edited January 2026. The original title was “How to Overcome Inertial And Restart After A Break”
I was rolling along making significant progress on the first edit of Hope and Madness when we left for an extended vacation to Asia.
Determined to keep my momentum going, I had every intention of writing while we were away. I packed my laptop. I told myself I’d write on planes, in hotel rooms, during quiet mornings. I even committed to submitting work to my critique group and mentor upon my return.
Life intervened with other plans.
A packed itinerary. Medical challenges. A wicked case of jet lag. Then we arrived home just days before Thanksgiving, sliding straight from suitcases into holiday mode. While I managed a submission, barely, by the time things settled, the work I’d been so deeply immersed in felt … distant.
I’ve experienced more than my fair share of interruptions—vacations, injuries, illness, major celebrations, life changes. All of them upend my routines and forward progress. They disrupt the structures I rely on to meet my goals.
If the break is only a few days, I often return refreshed and invigorated. But when time away stretches into weeks, months, or even (gasp) years, the pain of restarting looms large. Add in the small indulgences that creep in during a break. Reading instead of writing. Sleeping in. Extending the “fun” just a little longer. Before we know it, inertia takes holds like quicksand. Not because we don’t care, but because moving forward feels heavier than staying still.
Applying the analogy to exercise might be the easiest way to envision the problem. Strength and stamina that took months to build fades surprisingly fast. And the memory of how hard it was to get there in the first place can convince us to delay starting again. We remember the struggle more vividly than the satisfaction. Writing, like exercise, requires conditioning.
Over time, I’ve learned that getting back into motion doesn’t require dramatic gestures or perfect conditions. It requires gentle, practical strategies. Here are the ones that help me restart.
Strategies for Overcoming Inertia after a Break
These examples focus on writing, but the strategies are ones I’ve developed and relied on after many kinds of literal or figurative pauses.
Internalize Your Motivation
“I should do this today” is easy to ignore. It sounds optional. Negotiable. Something to get to later.
What’s harder to dismiss is a choice framed as identity. I’m a person who honors commitments. I finish what I start. When I measure my actions against that truth, restarting isn’t a debate. It’s alignment.
Add to that the pull of the story itself. I care deeply about telling the story of Hope and Madness. When I reconnect with that passion, motivation doesn’t need to be forced. It arrives naturally, ready to lift me up and set me back in motion.
Take the First Step
Not the whole climb. Just the first step.
For me, the start was setting up my computer in my office. Opening the manuscript without committing to “working” on it lowered my resistance further.
Go for the Quick Win(s)
Set a simple, attainable goal that creates momentum. Small wins rebuild confidence.
I reread the last few scenes and compiled notes for the next chapter. Action, even minimal action, breaks the spell of avoidance.
Start Slow and Build
You don’t return to peak performance on day one. You ease back in. Work for a short, defined period, then gradually increase your time or intensity.
Joining my writing sprint, even after procrastinating long enough to be late, and then participating in my critique group the following day helped me find my rhythm again.
Slide in from the Side
Sometimes the most effective way back is indirect. When the main task feels too heavy, beginning with something adjacent can help.
Even when work on my manuscript is humming along, I have days when I struggle to get words on the page. When that happens, I turn to related tasks: reading comp titles, doing research, outlining, creating a branding plan, or wading into the technology quagmire. Since this most recent return, I’ve been working on a secret booklet I’ll share in January.
Celebrate Progress
Progress deserves recognition, even small wins. Celebration reinforces the behavior you want to repeat.
Positive feedback prompted a happy dance. Finishing my next chapter notes sent me out for a walk in the sun.
Build a Habit Into a Routine
Habits create muscle memory, removing much of the resistance. When they’re embedded in a routine, they require even less energy and become more automatic. A consistent writing window, location, or ritual can make returning easier the next time life intervenes.
My sprint and critique groups provide structure, accountability, and emotional support. Developing a writing process has given my work a dependable framework. As I settle back into my daily routine, writing consistency has followed naturally.
When You Slip Up, Start Again Without Shame
This may be the most important strategy of all. We’re human, not machines. Shame deepens inertia and keeps us stuck. Compassion helps us restart.
Missed days don’t erase my identity as a writer. They’re part of the process, not a failure of it. Each time I hit a roadblock in completing my book, I have a good sulk and then begin again. The more I practice persistence, the more persistent I’ve become.
Final Thoughts on Restarting
If you want to delve deeper into strategies to overcome inertia, I recommend reading Atomic Habits by James Clear. While I read it several years ago, many of its ideas continue to resonate with my experience.
If you’ve been meaning to return to something you set aside, I hope this offers reassurance as much as strategy. Restarts rarely look graceful from the inside. They’re often harder and messier than we expect. If you’ve found your own way back, I’d love to hear what’s helped you begin again.