The Identity Trap: Who Are You Without Your WIP?

Writers! You’re not lazy. You’re not undisciplined. You're not uninspired. So why is your work in progress still ... well, in progress? Hours wasted staring at a blank page, too many ideas clashing in your head, or a quiet, repetitive whisper: "I'll do it tomorrow." What if it's not just procrastination or perfectionism holding you back, but something deeper? Fear of success, fear of failure ... or fear of identity loss. Your own psychology may be holding you back—and here's why.

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Franz Kafka famously stated, “A non-writing writer is a monster courting insanity,” and many writers can attest that he was correct. Starting a novel is often less intimidating than actually finishing one, leaving many more writers sitting on unpublished works in progress (WIPs). When casually asked (again) how the book’s going, the answer usually sounds something like, “Almost done, I swear!” … while calculating the last time you opened your laptop.

If you’re familiar with the conversation, welcome to the club. All writers struggle to cross that finish line—but why? Perfectionism? Fear of judgment? Procrastination? Perhaps all three. Or perhaps it’s something deeper, harder to overcome.

A simple question: “Who am I without this book?”

From a psychological perspective, when a story becomes inseparable from the writer’s sense of self, it flags the concept of identity enmeshment—and a variation of this may be subconsciously preventing writers from typing “The End”. By analyzing this concept and exploring how it applies to us, we can begin to identify (no pun intended) who we are beyond our works, and more importantly ... finish. That. Manuscript.

Trapped? I'm not trapped.

You sure about that? Like, really, really sure?

Humor me for a second while we break down the psychology.

Typically associated with family dynamics, researchers Bacon and Conway (2023) define the concept of identity enmeshment as “a diminished sense of self that includes [...] an inability to fully experience, understand, and value one’s own thoughts, feelings, and needs in the context of relationship” (p. 3596). While previous psychological research has not directly focused on writers attaching identities to their WIPs, parallels with identity enmeshment provide a useful framework for understanding how they might, and what the consequences of this phenomenon might be.

In an interesting contrast, Dollinger and Dollinger (2017) note that individuals who consider themselves creatives, unlike those who don't, often look outside of personal relationships for identity formation. And while not inherently unhealthy from a psychological standpoint, a writer identifying with their own works does represent the danger of an unending cycle.

For a writer whose identity is attached to a WIP, finishing the story means identity loss. This fear of loss triggers subconscious protective responses—specifically, a resistance to change. Murtagh et al. (2012) support this idea of subconscious resistance, specifically linking self-identity as a contributing factor.

In the context of writers, what does this threat of change translate into?

Perfectionism.

Procrastination.

Monsters courting insanity, yelling, “Almost done, I swear!”

For a writer whose identity is attached to a WIP, finishing the story means identity loss.

Credit: Anna Stampfli via unsplash.com

I'm not procrastinating; you're procrastinating.

Honestly? Probably. (This article, for instance, has a whole history behind it. But you're reading it now, aren't you?) Sowmya and Pramod (2025) list procrastination and perfectionism as subconscious methods of resisting change, noting how these cognitive barriers flare when a given task lacks "immediate rewards" (p. 739). Like, say ... writing a book. A task that can take years to complete.

One of the hardest things I've had to learn while working on my debut novel (for almost two decades) is that we are physically incapable of perfection. But sometimes, there's a good reason for putting a book aside. Maybe you feel like you're too young or too inexperienced to write the story the way it needs to be written. Sometimes a story needs to marinate a little before you're ready to bring it into the world. The trick is to figure out the difference between marinating and just ... avoiding.

Writing a book, or any medium of story, is an act of courage. You've probably heard the stat that 97% of people who start writing a book never finish. I checked, and it's not official. But it is scary, right?

Even scarier: If it is true, right now, you're part of that 97%.

Yup.

But ... what if this is the only idea I ever have?

Okay. This time, I'll humor you. Let's say you're right—you'll never get another idea for the rest of your life. Is that reason enough to dishonor the one idea you do have? To let it sit like a ghost in a half-finished draft, collecting digital dust while you hoard its full potential in the back of your mind?

Logically ... it doesn't make sense. (Unless, of course, you've unconsciously attached your identity to this idea.) Whether you get another one or not, you've got one right now. Whether it takes you one year, or two years, or two decades to finish ... it's not going anywhere. Keeping it hidden away, unwritten and frozen in time, won't make you a better writer, and it won't magically sprout more.

In fact, I can promise you from personal experience that the process of writing something into existence will trigger more ideas. That's just how creativity works. It doesn't grow in a cage; it grows in action.

Think about it: How many times has the lightbulb above your head sparked while listening to a song, or watching a movie, or reading a book, or even, like, folding laundry? The theory of relativity popped into existence while Albert Einstein was working at the Swiss Federal Patent Office, a time which Howard (2008) describes as Einstein's "golden years" (p. 3) when the history's most famous mind had time to, ahem ... "marinate" his ideas.

Fine. Maybe you're onto something. What now?

Write afraid. If you feel you can't write what you want, write something. A sentence a day keeps the writer identity enmeshment away.

Okay, jokes aside, you can read all the writing advice in the world, and it all boils down to one thing: putting words on a page. Physically, the task is cake, but this article isn't here to tell you how to write. You know how to write. Hacking your own psychology—that's why you're here.

One way to combat this psychological resistance is shifting our own narratives away from the things we produce, which is easier said than done. Another way—by doing the exact opposite. Expanding the narrative to include multiple WIPs in your collective "identity" could be an easier first step toward detachment. (Just don't get caught in another trap and end up drowning in unfinished WIPs. It's a balance, y'know?)

In a practical sense, both of these methods begin with reframing our internal dialogue from the question, “Who am I without this book?” to its empowering answer, “I am a person who creates.”

In short: you are not a book. You are the person capable of writing another.

Finish. That. Manuscript.

Okay. From denial to acceptance, you're now ready to escape from The Identity Trap and apply these practical steps to complete your first draft:

1. Write afraid: Today, put one word in front of the other. Even one sentence is better than nothing. Not that scary, right? (And hey, dipping your toe in might give you the courage to dive bomb the deep end, and those sentences build into paragraphs, to pages, and whole chapters.)

   
   

2. Pivot: Laundry, dishes, another WIP ... but no drowning. When one WIP starts making you want to cry, pivoting to a mundane task or a new idea that's less intimidating can help keep the creative momentum flowing without needing to bang your head against a wall.

   
   

3. Accept imperfection: Your favorite book in the whole world that's totally perfect in your eyes? I'll bet you ten bucks its author sees all the "mistakes" you don't. The hard truth is that you're only as good as your next WIP, because writing is a skill that improves over time. So do the best you're capable of right now.

   
   

4. Thank your brain: Everything it does, no matter how annoying, centres on the singular purpose of self-preservation. To your brain, your comfort zone is safe, and finishing a book signals danger because you've never done that before. It's literally first-time jitters on a much bigger, life-affirming scale. It's okay to be afraid. Remember step one?

   
   

5. Quantify the task: This one actually helped me finish my debut novel, and it's foolproof because it's simple math. On average, how many words do your chapters have? Let's assume 2,000. Next, how many chapters have you planned out? For pantsers who write blind, we'll use a ballpark of 25. If you multiply 2,000 words by 25 chapters, your book's gonna be 50,000 words long. Third, pick the date you want to finish the book. Seriously. If it's two months from now, divide 50,000 words by 60 days ... that's just over 800 words a day (between 1 and 3 pages). In other words, if you write 2 pages a day for 60 days, you will mathematically finish a book of 50,000 words. See? Foolproof.

   
   

6. Change your perspective: If you've already grasped every other step, then the last thing holding you back is your own perception. Fear of the unknown, fear of what now? But finishing your book isn't just an ending ... it's actually the start of a journey. This is the point where you have to ask yourself what you truly want. Do you really want to be a writer? Do you want to publish your book? Do you even just want to read your own story? Well, the only one who can make that happen is you. You are the final barrier. You're standing exactly where that (hypothetical) 3% stood—but you're not alone. Your story is alive, and you're the only one who's going to write it. Don't let it down.

You got this, writer. Happy storytelling, and remember ...

You are not a book; you are the person capable of writing another.

References

Bacon, I., & Conway, J. (2023). Co-dependency and enmeshment — a fusion of concepts. International Journal of Mental Health and Addiction, 2023(21), 3594–3603. https://doi.org/10.1007/s11469-022-00810-4

Dollinger, S. J., & Dollinger, S. C. (2017). Creativity and identity. In M. Karwowski & J. C. Kaufman (Eds.), The creative self: Effect of beliefs, self-efficacy, mindset, and identity (pp. 49–64). Elsevier Academic Press.

Murtagh, N., Gatersleben, B., & Uzzell, J. D. (2012). Self-identity threat and resistance to change: Evidence from regular travel behaviour. Journal of Environmental Psychology, 32(4), 318–326. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.jenvp.2012.05.008

Howard, D. (2008). Albert Einstein: Physicist, philosopher, humanitarian. The Teaching Company.

Sowmya, N., & Pramod, J. (2025). The psychology of resistance: Why our minds avoid work and how to overcome it. International Journal of Scientific Research in Science, Engineering and Technology, 12(3), 738–744. https://doi.org/10.32628/IJSRSET251297